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Chapter 92: The World Trembles — Mutants Step Onto the Historical Stage
🕑 Added 2025-05-19 18:27:19 +0000 UTC
Hank was right.
The annihilation of both the U.S. and Soviet fleets off the coast of Cuba sent shockwaves across the globe, triggering a political earthquake that rivaled an 8.0 on the Richter scale.
Every nation that received the news was utterly dumbfounded. For a long moment, they refused to believe the intelligence was real.
Only after repeated verification—again and again—did the horrifying truth finally sink in.
And how could it not?
This was the Cold War. The U.S. and the Soviet Union were the world’s only superpowers. Any move they made sent ripples through the entire planet.
Let alone a standoff like this—one that had nearly sparked World War III.
The whole world had its eyes glued to the Cuban confrontation.
Under such circumstances, how could the total destruction of both fleets possibly be kept secret?
Despite their shock, the event was shrouded in mystery.
Intelligence agencies across the globe scrambled to investigate, analyze, and dig up answers. Every available hand was deployed.
But all came up empty. No one could figure out how or why the fleets of the two most powerful nations on Earth had been wiped out in one fell swoop.
It was supposed to be impossible.
“It was the mutants!”
“It had to be them!”
At the Pentagon, the Secretary of Defense slammed his fist on the table and declared with absolute conviction to the gathered officials:
“No one else could so effortlessly wipe out the naval forces of two superpowers—unless we’re talking about literal monsters!”
His voice rang through the conference room, strong and forceful.
“The fleets weren’t just sunk—they were obliterated before they even had a chance to go under. Not a single soul survived.”
“And there was no sign of those mutants at the scene. We have no idea where they went. We can’t even confirm if they’re still alive.”
“No one knows what actually happened.”
“All we have right now... are theories.”
One of the generals finally spoke after a long silence.
“But they’re reasonable theories,” the CIA Director interjected. “We’ve already received intel: one of the mutants has the power to lift a nuclear submarine from the bottom of the ocean! The man can control metal!”
“If he could lift a sub, then redirecting all those warheads toward both fleets? Entirely within his capabilities.”
Everyone in the room nodded silently. That theory made sense. It was the only one that did.
“Hanson,” the Defense Secretary turned to the CIA Director, “your agency set up a mutant division, didn’t it? The team that went to Cuba—weren’t they from that unit?”
“They should be,” Director Hanson replied hesitantly.
“Should?” the Secretary’s expression darkened.
To hear such vague language from the head of the CIA was beyond disappointing—it was downright absurd.
“That metal-controlling mutant—I know him. He was part of that original mutant task force. He has magnetic powers.”
“But as for the others... I’m not sure. Moira’s been suspended. This whole mission was carried out off the books.”
Though he knew how bad it sounded, Director Hanson had no choice but to admit the truth.
“And you were the one praising her as an ‘exceptional agent’ not long ago,” the Secretary sneered.
“Well... maybe not that exceptional,” Hanson shrugged, “but right now, she’s the only person we’ve got who knows what actually happened.”
“Goddamn it,” the Secretary cursed under his breath. “Fine. Once you make contact with this ‘exceptional agent,’ report back to us immediately.”
“Hanson, we need intelligence. We need information on the mutants.”
One of the generals cut in, his tone solemn and firm.
Even though no one had the full picture yet, one thing was clear—mutants had captured the attention of every major power.
“We’ll have to wait until I get in touch with Agent Moira,” Hanson muttered awkwardly, rubbing his nose.
He hadn’t taken her proposal to form a mutant unit seriously back then—thought it was a waste of resources.
And when the entire base was taken out shortly after, he didn’t just shelve the project, he outright disbanded it.
To this day, he didn’t even know the full roster of the team.
What a mess.
Now, the only lead left was the very agent who had been suspended, abandoned by both sides.
---
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters
Havok, Banshee, and Darwin sat listlessly on the steps, their expressions dull and heavy.
The atmosphere around them was thick with sorrow.
Ever since they returned from Cuba, the once-bustling mansion felt half-empty. It was hard to adjust.
“Shit... why did it have to turn out like this?” Banshee muttered in frustration.
No one had an answer for him.
“I just hope Charles pulls himself together soon,” Darwin said quietly.
Though Charles had been acting like nothing happened, everyone knew the truth. Erik and Alex’s departure had left a deep, painful scar.
They all instinctively looked toward the lawn, where Charles and Moira stood in conversation. If anyone could comfort him right now, it was probably Moira.
“One day, the government will realize just how lucky they were to have Professor X on their side,” Moira said sincerely.
Everyone understood—the confrontation triggered by Erik’s onslaught had ushered in a new era of tension between mutants and humans.
Many mutants would be forced to pick a side.
Despite that, Charles had chosen to stand with humanity, and Moira found herself deeply moved by his unwavering conviction.
She had not misjudged this man.
He had vision. He saw the bigger picture. Unlike Erik, whose ideals were becoming more and more extreme.
“I think it’s time I really became a professor,” Charles said with a wry smile. “Maybe I’ll even go bald someday.”
Moira actually laughed at that one.
“I’m still with the government, Moira,” Charles continued, his expression growing serious. “We’re still their people, even if unofficially.”
“No,” Moira shook her head gently. “You have your own team now. Isn’t that better? You’re the X-Men.”
“Heh. Has a nice ring to it. But Moira, anonymity is our first and strongest shield,” Charles said solemnly.
Given how tense things were becoming, mutants stepping into the spotlight would only escalate the conflict with humanity.
So Charles made his decision: for now, mutants would remain in the shadows.
Especially what happened in Cuba—that truth had to stay buried forever.
“I understand!” Moira promised, gripping Charles’s hand tightly. “No matter what threats come my way, I’ll never reveal your location.”
“I know you won’t,” Charles said earnestly.
Then he kissed her.
But even as their lips met, his hand gently pressed against his temple.
A psychic wave pulsed silently.
He erased every memory Moira had of mutants.
That way, what happened in Cuba would stay buried in darkness—forever hidden from the world.
Of course Charles knew the U.S., the Soviets, and the rest of the world weren’t fools. Their suspicions would still fall on mutants.
But without concrete evidence, there was still room to maneuver—still a chance to avoid total war.
He just hoped Erik and Alex wouldn’t mess it all up.
“Sorry, Moira,” Charles whispered in his heart. “But this is the best thing I can do for you.”
He knew the world would demand justice for the sunken fleets.
The rage of two superpowers would need a target.
And the mutants would inevitably become that target.
Moira, caught in the middle, would only suffer.
Cutting her off from the mutants… was the only way to protect her.
