MUTOSTERONE

After dinner, Professor gathered everyone in the Control Room. The dim glow of holographic projections flickered over their faces, casting long shadows as the mission briefing began. Barry, Seraphina, Kai, Hana, Rick, Gregor, Elias, Raven, Seren, and Solus all stood in a loose circle, watching as Professor M activated a projection of a heavily fortified island. "Listen carefully," Professor began, his tone sharp and unwavering. "Our target is Echelon Prime's main base, located on Vermilion Isle, northeast of Edenia."

Barry tilted his head. "Vermilion? Sounds fancy."

Silas, leaning against a console, smirked. "It used to be a wildlife preserve before Echelon Prime turned it into their personal fortress. Now, it's the most heavily guarded black site outside Nexus jurisdiction."

The hologram zoomed in, revealing fortified walls, anti-air defense systems, and a sprawling underground facility. The entire island was a military stronghold, surrounded by jagged cliffs and unpredictable ocean currents.

Professor crossed his arms. "Echelon Prime has been using Vermilion Isle as their primary operations hub. Thanks to Silas, we've identified their security patterns, supply routes, and key locations within the facility." His voice hardened. "This is where they plan to escalate the conflict between mutants and humans."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "What's our objective? Eliminate them?"

Professor shook his head. "No. Our goal is infiltration. We need intel—who they're working with, what their next move is, and how deep their influence runs. But if we're discovered…" He let the silence linger before finishing. "We fight our way out."

Rick cracked his knuckles. "My kind of mission."

Hana exhaled sharply. "And how exactly do we get in? That place looks like a death trap.

Solus grinned. "I could just portal us straight inside."

Seren snorted. "Right. And teleport us all straight into a solid wall. Genius plan."

Professor raised a hand. "No reckless moves. We do this right, or not at all."

A heavy silence followed as the weight of the mission settled on their shoulders. Professor looked at each of them, his voice calm but firm. "Echelon Prime wants war. They want mutants and humans to tear each other apart. If we don't stop them now, Edenia won't survive what comes next. We leave at dawn."

Professor looked over the group, his expression firm. "Raven, Gregor, Elias—you three are going."

Raven nodded sharply. "Scouting from above is my specialty."

Gregor cracked his knuckles. "And my stone skin can handle anything they throw at us."

Elias grinned. "Toxic warfare? Say no more."

Before anyone else could speak, Solus stepped forward, arms crossed, his confidence radiating like a sun about to explode. "Hold up. Why just them?" he asked. "I could wipe out the whole base instantly. Portal them into the middle of the ocean—problem solved."

Raven arched an eyebrow. "And if you miscalculate?"

Solus shrugged. "I don't miscalculate."

Gregor grunted. "Right, because you're perfect. Except when you portal your own shoes into a different dimension."

The group snickered, but Solus rolled his eyes. "That was once. And I got them back. Eventually."

Elias chuckled. "And what if their base is underground? You gonna portal a mountain into the ocean, too?"

Seren, standing beside him, sighed dramatically. "Solus, you're powerful, but you're also dumb."

Solus shot her a smirk. "You say dumb, I say 'creative problem-solver.'"

Seren crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Maybe I should rewind time to the moment before you decided to embarrass yourself."

Professor rubbed his temples, cutting off their bickering. "This mission requires precision. We can't risk setting off alarms or causing a premature attack."

Solus huffed, throwing his hands up. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't expect me to save the day when your plan goes to hell."

Seraphina grinned, patting his shoulder. "Oh, don't worry. If we need a reckless wildcard, you'll be the first to know."

The group laughed, but the tension still lingered. Professor turned back to Raven, Gregor, and Elias. "You three, gear up. We move at dawn."

Barry raised his hand, frowning. "And why am I not going? They're just kids."

Professor sighed, expecting this question. "Because Silas is monitoring everything. We need to prove that the Hall of M is trustworthy. Sending in our students to eliminate extremists will show we're fighting for the kingdom's safety, not against it."

Barry crossed his arms. "That's a nice excuse, but you know damn well I could take them out in half the time."

Professor nodded. "You could. But that's exactly the problem."

The room fell silent. Professor continued, his voice calm but firm. "If we send high-level mutants like you, Solus, or Seren, the CPG will notice instantly. Higher levels mean higher Mutosterone fluctuation, and the Capitol Patrol Guard has sensors scanning for exactly that. If your power levels spike, you won't just attract attention—you'll trigger every CPG radar in the region."

Barry gritted his teeth. "So what? Let them come."

Silas, leaning against the wall, smirked. "Yeah? And what happens when those 'rogue and brutal' CPG agents storm this place, looking for unregistered mutants? You think Edenia's gonna side with you over their own law enforcers?"

Barry glared at him but stayed quiet. Professor softened his tone. "I need you here. If something goes wrong, if the CPG catches wind of this mission, we'll need strong mutants defending the Hall of M. You, Solus, and Seren are too valuable to risk out there."

Solus huffed. "So basically, we're too strong for our own good?"

Seren rolled her eyes. "Welcome to the downside of being overpowered."

Barry let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But if they screw this up, don't expect me to sit around doing nothing."

Professor nodded. "That's all I ask."

As the first light of dawn stretched across the sky, the team gathered at the Hall of M's private airstrip, standing before their sleek aircraft—the M-Jet.

Designed with cutting-edge Nexus technology, the M-Jet was a masterpiece of aviation and combat engineering. Its angular, stealth-like frame was forged from an advanced alloy that shimmered between obsidian black and deep violet, absorbing light instead of reflecting it. The Hall of M insignia—a stylized silver "M" with glowing blue veins—was emblazoned across the wings, pulsing faintly as if alive.

The twin engines at the rear hummed with quiet energy, powered by a fusion core that allowed for near-silent takeoffs and supersonic speeds when needed. Instead of traditional wings, the M-Jet boasted retractable vector-thrusters, allowing for vertical takeoff and landing (VTOL). Its underbelly housed a cloaking mechanism, making it nearly invisible to radar and heat signatures.

Inside, the cockpit was fully autonomous, its AI co-pilot ensuring a smooth, precise flight. The spacious interior was lined with adaptive nanofiber seating, which molded to the passengers' bodies for optimal comfort. A holographic command interface stretched across the main console, displaying real-time mission data, terrain scans, and potential threats.

Seren whistled. "Damn. They really went all out with this thing."

Solus grinned, running a hand along the smooth exterior. "Yeah, but does it have cup holders?"

Gregor chuckled, his voice deep and gravelly. "Just don't touch anything, kid."

As the boarding ramp lowered, the team stepped inside. With a soft hiss of hydraulics, the doors sealed shut.

The AI co-pilot's voice echoed through the cabin. "Destination locked. Estimated arrival time: one hour and forty-two minutes. Engaging stealth protocols."

The engines hummed louder, the thrusters glowing faintly as the M-Jet rose into the air. Within moments, it was soaring into the clouds, invisible to the world below.

As the M-Jet cruised through the sky, cloaked in stealth mode, the tension in the cabin slowly gave way to excitement. This was it—their first real mission. The "big leagues." And, as expected from a bunch of teenage mutants with an urge for rebellion, things got out of hand real quick.

Raven, lounging in her seat with her wings half-folded, stretched her arms and smirked. "Alright, be honest—who else is feeling like we're in some underground resistance movie? I mean, look at us. A secret jet, a strike team, an enemy base? We're practically revolutionaries."

Gregor crossed his rock-like arms. "We are not revolutionaries. We are a tactical response team ensuring stability and peace."

Raven grinned, twirling a small pocket watch in her hand. "Oh, shut up, Gregor. You sound like a government PSA. Let's just admit it—this is our moment! If we pull this off, we're legends."

Elias leaned forward. "You're telling me we're about to jump out of an invisible jet, land on a hostile island, take down a bunch of militant freaks, and we're NOT calling ourselves revolutionaries? Please."

Gregor, arms crossed, muttered. "I still think we should've come up with cool codename for our mission."

Raven's eyes lit up. "YES! We need mission codenames. Like 'Shadow Phantom' or 'Chrono Reaper.'"

Gregor groaned. "We are NOT doing codenames."

Raven snickered. "Says the guy who looks like he was built to be called 'Tank.'"

"Hey," Gregor grumbled. "I said you can call me Golem."

Solus grinned. "Fine, but how about 'Big Rock Energy'?"

The entire team erupted in laughter. Gregor let out a deep sigh and muttered, "I hate all of you."

The cockpit AI chimed in: "Approaching mission destination in twenty-five minutes."

Elias, tapping his foot anxiously, "Okay, but seriously, who else is feeling that 'about-to-do-something-illegal' adrenaline rush? Like, we're technically on an official mission, but it still feels like we're about to do some hardcore vandalism."

Raven grinned. "Revolution. Vandalism. Same energy."

Elias raised a fist. "Let's overthrow the establishment!"

Gregor facepalmed. "We ARE the establishment."

Elias smirked. "Then let's overthrow ourselves."

Raven snapped her fingers. "Now THAT'S a revolution."