The air was crisp and biting, typical January cold that seeped through clothes. The weather made every breath visible in the light covering the streets.
In such weather, Dante was leading the morning run while Jean and Ororo jogged steadily a few meters behind him. Ororo had tried to bow out gracefully at first, claiming she didn’t have proper track clothes. However, one quick snap of his fingers later, a perfect magical illusion of a sleek, tight white tracksuit was hugging her figure. Her only excuse had been snatched away. She couldn’t get out of this without looking undignified.
Rather than forcing them to run through the corporate streets of Midtown, he had teleported them to a quiet residential area outskirts. The streets here were calm and peaceful, except for the occasional sleepy dog walkers or people heading out to their early work shifts.
He slightly slowed down his pace to let the two women catch up to him. “Tired already?”
Jean rolled her eyes in annoyance. Her cheeks flushed from the cold, almost as vibrant as her hair. “I’m saving my stamina for a longer stretch.”
Ororo smiled softly beside Jean. “I’ll go with her excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse,” Jean grumbled defensively. “You know what? Let’s race to that Civic.”
He looked to the front and spotted the car roughly two hundred meters away. “You’re on.”
Jean sped up her pace immediately, giving the impromptu race her absolute all. Dante would have gladly let her win the silly race if Felicia or Gwen had been in Jean’s place. However, Jean was not his romantic lover. She was here to learn from him. Would she respect him if she beat him easily? Absolutely not.
He accelerated at once and overtook her. In seconds, he reached the parked Civic and tapped the hood lightly.
Jean arrived moments later, seemingly out of breath. She bent down with her hands on her knees, recovering her breathing. “You win… I don’t have your monstrous stamina.”
“One point for having the courage to admit defeat.” Dante patted her shoulder gently with a smile. “It was an unfair matchup to begin with.”
He excelled in raw physical strength and endurance while she excelled in mental power. Of course she would lose in a straight sprint.
Jean sighed deeply. “Let me rest for a minute.”
After a quick rest, they continued their run through the winding, fog-shrouded streets. For the first time in days, Dante felt almost relaxed. The recent chaos had left him with almost no time to slow down. Even when he had, it was usually spent with someone else, caring for them, loving them, or trying to lift their spirits. As much as he loved that, he also needed some quiet, peaceful moments. This feeling currently existed because Jean and Ororo accompanied him in pure silence.
That peace lasted only until they rounded the next corner.
A sudden, cold sensation enveloped him completely, making him aware of someone’s intense gaze from the shadows. He assumed it was most likely Mister Sinister or Director Fury keeping tabs on him. What surprised him was Ororo suddenly frowning, as if she could sense it too.
“Dante, Jean. Wait.” Ororo stopped in her tracks and looked around. “I feel someone’s gaze on us.”
Either Fury’s experiment hadn’t completely sealed her powers, or Ororo’s powers were never a mutation to begin with. In the comics, she was a descendant of powerful magic entities Oshtur and Agamotto, both of whom were part of the Vishanti trio. As unbelievable as that magical theory might sound, she might be related to those gods in this universe as well.
Jean also joined Ororo in scanning the streets and saw nothing. “I’ll check with my telepathy.”
She carefully probed the surrounding area with her psychic powers. Thanks to Jean’s Resonance Link, he could sense her doing it. He was going to keep it active to train his mind for massive amounts of psionic and psychokinetic energy.
“Are you sure, Ororo?” Jean asked, frowning intensely. “I don’t see anyone observing us. It’s just ordinary people curious about us.”
He quickly sent out his own probing waves and reached the exact same conclusion as Jean.
‘It’s definitely Essex.’
Mind cloaking was a standard for all high-level telepaths. The current Sinister was a level above every telepath in this world. Even Emma was vastly inferior compared to him. It was just a matter of experience. Nathaniel Essex had lived hundreds of years. Meanwhile, Emma was young and barely trained her telepathy. Jean was even younger. Charles, the only one who came close, had died.
Dante could unleash the full power of Jean’s Resonance Link to hunt down the clone, but doing so would reveal his own Omega-level telepathy. It was better not to reveal every card against someone as sharp as Mr. Sinister.
‘What an annoying fellow.’
He used Death’s cloak to isolate himself as well as his two companions from the universe.
“They can’t see us now.”
Jean placed a hesitant hand on his broad shoulder. “Did you just… use telepathy?”
“Yes. I learned it last night.”
“You really…” Jean looked like she wanted to call him out for using that excuse again. “Forget it. You being stronger benefits all of us.”
He showed a look of feigned surprise. “Jean with a correct take on the situation. The sun might rise in the west today.”
Her brow twitched violently. “Stop looking down on me.”
“How else will I look into your eyes?”
“...”
He turned his attention to Ororo, showing a reassuring smile. “There is no point in chasing a leaf in a storm. It’s not like they can achieve anything by stalking us.”
Ororo visibly relaxed once she saw exactly how calm and unbothered he was. “Did you deliberately use my codename for that metaphor?”
He shook his head honestly. “Coincidence.”
The walk continued for a few minutes more, then he portaled them back to Jean’s room.
The redhead immediately took off her sweaty track jacket, revealing a damp sports bra underneath. She sat down on the bed with a sigh. Ororo also gracefully took her own jacket off and held it in her hands. He suddenly felt as though he shouldn’t be here. If he stayed too long, they might catch him staring somewhere he shouldn’t.
“Tomorrow, same time?” Jean asked, completely clueless to his thoughts.
“Yeah. Then we’ll continue after I return from Egypt.”
Emma had confirmed she would be back today, meaning their departure was set for tomorrow. Even though the trip might be short, he had to make it a fun one for both Emma and Sharon. After getting rid of Apocalypse and Selene, he could fully focus on freeing Natasha and her Widows, then ending Mr. Sinister’s reign of oppression over mutants.
‘I can make more trips after I deal with that pest.’
He noticed Ororo watching him with something unsaid in her eyes. “What’s the matter? I won’t bite you for sharing your thoughts.”
“Do you want me to accompany you?” Ororo asked. “I grew up in Cairo. Haven’t been there in years, but I can still help you avoid the common pitfalls that many foreign tourists face.”
“I’ll be going to the pyramids. That’s where Apocalypse has been sleeping.”
She showed a disappointed look, which she quickly recovered from. “Well… I won’t be needed then.”
He could understand her disappointment. This could’ve been a perfect excuse for Ororo to meet up with her old friends and acquaintances. She wasn’t the type to make a trip just for personal reasons.
After telling Jean and Ororo to join him in training, he said goodbye to them and walked back to his room, only to find Raven standing patiently outside his locked door. She looked fresh and professional in her suit.
“Good morning, Boss,” she greeted him with her usual professional smile. “You wouldn’t mind me reporting for duty a little bit early, would you?”
“We love diligent workers here.”
He unlocked the door and held it open for her, letting her step in. Felicia and Gwen were still asleep on the bed, which earned him a look of awe from Raven.
“This guy doesn’t get tired, does he?” she thought out loud, which was a habit of Anna, not the sharp, survival-focused Raven. “What a freak.”
He shook his head. “How are you feeling about the new job?”
“With a busy boss like you, not very optimistic,” she insulted him with a poker face. “Anyway, I have something to report. We received an email from Stark Industries.”
“Oh, what does it say?”
He didn’t think Silver Sable’s current organization could offer anything to Tony Stark’s leviathan of a corporation. There was simply no reason to have any communication between them.
‘Could it be related to last night?’
“Tony Stark wants to meet Miss Boss,” Raven informed without missing a beat. “But she isn’t here. Should I inform Miss?”
His expression darkened. Tony was a massive playboy in the current timeline. Silvija was a beautiful woman—a prime target for a playboy’s one night stand. “Is it business related?”
If it was anything else, Tony might lose a few teeth when he gets his face kicked in.
Raven cleared her throat. “It was only a request to meet.”
“Silvy is busy in Symkaria. I’ll meet him. Today.”
“Look at this overprotective guy. This is honestly so cute.”
Having telepathy open all the time was like a curse.
“I’ll arrange it. One more thing, Boss. Your breakfast will be here in half an hour. I’ve hired a new batch of employees.”
“Sweet.”
He took off his shirt and threw it onto the chair. “What exactly is my job?”
Raven was silently staring directly at his exposed chest, clearly too distracted by the sight to even hear his question.
“You like it?”
“It’s average,” she lied, averting her gaze from him. Her poker face was immaculate, hiding every bit of emotion. “What were you asking, Boss?”
“So you liked it,” he said with a smirk, watching her stoic expression nearly as she fought hard to suppress her flustered reaction. “I was asking about my responsibilities.”
“Well, you have to meet important clients and handle all the other boring administrative responsibilities that a CEO of an international mercenary enterprise manages. Miss Silver Sable had been handling all of it until yesterday.”
“Sounds like an awful lot of boring desk work.”
“You can assign someone else to take these actions on your behalf.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “I’m assigning you as the Chief of Staff and Deputy CEO. Congrats!”
Rather than celebrating her promotion, she looked like she wanted to curse him. “I have to do all of that on top of being your secretary? Even nine lives wouldn’t be enough to handle that ridiculous workload.”
“Anna,” he whispered with a serious expression. “You can do it. I believe in you.”
“Do I have any other choice?” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “Mr. CEO, let’s settle your schedule for today.”
She took out her phone, preparing to diligently note it all down. Suffice to say, she didn’t have much trust in her memories at the moment.
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug as he took out a fresh pair of clothes from the closet. “Beating up some kids and women to train them.”
Raven paused mid-note on her phone, giving him a blank stare.
He grinned at her reaction. “I have to pick up Emma at two, play games with Laura at four, and do some sorcerer work at five.”
He was also planning to visit the Ancient One later, but Raven didn’t need to know that part.
She tapped rapidly on her phone, entering each item while suppressing the urge to not comment on the absurdity of her employer’s life. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“Nope.” He paused, turning to look at her properly. “Let’s do something about your memory when Emma gets back.”
Raven went quiet for a few seconds, then gave a small nod. Fear like that rarely needed words. She had no way of knowing what kind of person would be waiting for her on the other side of those buried memories.
To be honest, he wasn’t sure either.
Would they be strangers or enemies? One thing was for sure. Raven definitely wouldn’t be what Anna was to him.
Raven asked him more questions and scolded him in hushed whispers every time he tried to mess around. She left the room to work on her new duties.
Dante threw on the clothes and put on his shoes. Gwen and Felicia were curled under the blankets, one clutching a pillow, believing it to be him, and the other sleeping on the far corner of the bed.
He decided not to wake Gwen. There was no reason for her to be present for Whitney’s judgment. She would be content so long as MJ returned home safely.
A pulse of magic carried him away to Osborn Mansion.
Whitney was sleeping peacefully in the guest room, as if yesterday’s chaos had never happened. Honestly, it made things easier. He didn’t need to wake her up to dig through her memories.
He looked down at her sleeping face and let his power slip quietly into her mind.
A carousel of memories flashed before him in rapid succession, from her first meeting with Norman to the events of last night. She really had been in the dark about his identity as Skullfire until Harry spilled everything. She wasn’t lying about wanting to raise her child in peace. For that goal, she had briefly considered asking her family to kill him, but backed off after seeing the sheer destruction he was capable of. Filled with dread and anxiety, she had gone to Tony Stark for help, hoping his military connections could offer protection.
Dante pulled back from her mind and rubbed the back of his head. “What am I supposed to do with you?”
If she wasn’t pregnant, he would have killed her and moved on. But he adored children too much to snuff out a life that hadn’t even begun just to tidy up a loose end. Everything changed when innocent children entered the equation.
‘I’ll wipe some of her memories.’
She had made plans to kill him, but she hadn’t acted on them. With telepathy, he’d make sure she stayed completely out of his business from now on.
‘It can’t be for free, though.’
He shook her shoulder gently. “Whitney, wake up.”
She stirred with a soft groan and blinked a few times, and then her eyes focused on him. Fear flashed across her face instantly. “Skullfire…”
‘He is going to kill me., isn’t he?’ Her panicked thoughts echoed loudly in his head. ‘All this money, all this power, and none of it can save my child. Norman, you bastard. Why did you have to die and leave me with this?’
Dante was not entirely sure how he was supposed to react to her desperation, so he chose not to react at all. “I’m letting you go.”
Relief washed over her features. “Thank you. I swear I won’t—”
“For the small price of one hundred million.”
“Really a small price,” she thought, blinking in surprise. “Hundred million is pathetically low for Whitney Frost’s life.”
His brow twitched. Those with Frost surnames were really something else. They treated millions like dirt. “Five hundred million then.”
Whitney nodded without hesitation. “I’ll have it transferred to a Swiss account for you.”
“It’s the most I can do.” She thought bitterly. “My position in the family is still shaky. I can’t move more money without getting questions from dad.”
He was perfectly fine with five hundred million. It would make a nice contribution toward his future space station funds, which he planned to invest heavily in.
Whitney recovered quickly and started acting a lot more naturally, knowing that she wasn’t going to die today. She didn’t make him wait for too long for the transfer. Once he confirmed the funds, numbers, and everything else, he tweaked her memories. He made her forget everything about him and anyone connected to him. In her new version of events, Norman had simply been her fiancé who died under mysterious circumstances, and the five hundred million had been her investment toward a failed project. Everything else about symbiotes, Sovereign, the Serum, the Green Goblin were erased cleanly.
Finally, the Osborn chapter was closed for good.
