Chapter 206: No Hostages on My Watch

Dante exhaled slowly. He should have seen this coming when Jean took too long coming back and when Psylocke chose to stay alone after an exhausting battle rather than regrouping with the others. A man like Sinister didn’t miss such big openings.

Sinister clapped his hands together and gestured dramatically to the two women. “All I ask is, dear Dante, is that you come and keep me company. Not an unreasonable demand in exchange for these lovely ladies, right?”

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to decline your offer.”

He wasn’t going to play by Nathaniel’s rules. He refused to dance to negotiate for his friends’ freedom, especially with a crazy man.

He didn’t have to either.

He took in a deep breath and slowly reached out with both hands. His fingers vanished into two dark, swirling portals. On the screen—behind Jean, behind Psylocke—two identical portals materialized in the air.

“Huh?!” Nathaniel’s composure cracked at the sight. “Stop! Stop right there!”

Mr. Sinister flung a hand and channeled his telekinesis to stop the hands, but psionic energy meant nothing against the cosmic powers Dante was currently wielding. Nothing worldly stood a chance against the authority of the cosmos.

Sinister could only stare in silence as Dante pulled Jean and Psylocke back into the lobby. Their return allowed everyone to breathe a sigh of relief. They were simply too tired after the earlier battle to deal with a hostage situation.

Felicia and Emma rushed to help Jean and Psylocke settle down into a pair of office chairs.

On the screen, Sinister’s face twisted into varying expressions as though he couldn’t decide whether to be disgusted or feel admiration for what he had just witnessed.

“Magic…” He grumbled. “Repugnant. Nonsensical. How is a rational man meant to plan around such… such bullshit?”

Dante smiled faintly. It soothed his heart to see the crazy genealogist throwing a tantrum like a child, it felt far too gratifying. “That’s the charm of mystic arts, Nathaniel. Science just can’t compete.”

Nathaniel would never know mystic arts weren’t involved at all. Everything had been possible due to Death’s Resonance Link. Only her authority allowed him to sense Jean and Psylocke’s location and bind the space between them with a portal to rescue them. Normal portals would’ve taken too long to open, allowing Sinister to act before he could rescue anyone. But applying the same sorcery logic to portals while also using Death’s powers allowed him to make his own unique instant portals known as Netherportals.

Sinister let out a long, dramatic sigh. “All those careful preparations. All that meticulous bait… nothing worked out in my favor. I’ve been defeated.”

Dante chuckled. “Don’t be so heartbroken. I’ll come over to play tomorrow.”

He still needed to rescue Rogue out of Sinister’s hands as she was still under his mind control. He could’ve kidnapped Rogue with Death’s authority, but Emma and Jean currently lacked the energy to help him with telepathy. He also wasn’t in the best mental condition either. A good night of rest was necessary for all of them to get back to their top condition.

Sinister looked genuinely startled at Dante’s agreement, but people like him rarely stayed surprised. Just a moment later, he was rubbing his hands together, his grin giving the Joker a run for his money.

“Oh, marvelous. Then I shall go and finish the rest of my preparations. Until then… I’ll be counting the hours, dear Dante.”

Something about the way he lingered on that ‘dear’ crawled up Dante’s spine like a centipede. He refused to let Sinister have the last laugh.

On the display, Sinister giggled to himself, feeling giddy at the thought of killing Dante in various ways tomorrow. Just then, a netherportal opened right beside his head, from which a hand emerged and smacked him right in the face. Even Nathaniel, who had made himself a superhuman through genealogy, couldn’t react to such a blazing speed.

The slap echoed from the lobby screen’s speakers like a gunshot and Mr. Sinister’s head smashed into the screen, smearing the lens with his pale face.

“Ouch,” Remy whispered. “That one gotta sting.”

Emma chuckled. “He deserves a million more. Mutants have been living in hell because of him.”

“Agreed,” Illyana said with a nod. “It’s unfortunate we don’t have a way to get rid of him.”

“We’ll find a solution eventually,” Felicia added. “If nothing works, we’ll exterminate every clone he has. We don’t lack firepower.”

Illyana grinned confidently. “I’ve got the whole Limbo army at my call. Dealing with that suka is just a matter of time.”

Sinister moved away from the screen, one hand pressed to an already swollen and red face. His eyes viciously stared into the screen for a moment before the feed cut to black.

Emma regarded Dante with a look of concern. “You pissed him off. I don’t think going alone tomorrow is a great idea.”

“He’ll have traps made to kill me. Anyone tagging along is just asking to die.”

She crossed her arms, giving him a sharp look. “You already know my answer, but I’ll reiterate it for everyone else here. I’ll stand with you even if I die.”

It felt as though she meant this to challenge Felicia and Laura—that was her intention at least. But neither of them seemed to care. Felicia shrugged, completely unbothered since she had already accepted this part of their relationship. Laura was nonchalant, having complete faith in Dante to always hold her in his heart.

He smiled at Emma. “It’s the only way to get him out of my life.”

Half-measures wouldn’t solve Sinister’s problem. He could rescue every hostage a hundred times over, but Sinister would build a hundred new traps and force Dante to waste time again and again. What he had to do was simple: break Mr. Sinister. He had to crush Nathaniel into the dirt, so thoroughly and repeatedly, that the mad scientist learned to fear the very thought of coming after him. The only way to make Nathaniel dread him was to meet him head-on and crush him again and again until the lesson was carved into his bones.

Emma still seemed concerned, but she didn’t push him to tag along. She trusted him to know what he was doing.

With Mr. Sinister out of the picture for now, he turned his attention to the two unconscious women. A nudge from Biokinesis gave Psylocke's system the wake-up call it needed.

Psylocke awoke slowly with a tense frown. Her disoriented gaze darted around the lobby as she tried to reconcile how she had gone from the rooftop to here. Her wide eyes suddenly flickered. “Dante, this isn’t—I was ambushed.”

He didn’t expect the usually calm and stoic Psylocke to give out excuses right after waking up. It wasn’t like her to be defensive.

“Relax,” he said gently. “Everything is fine now.”

“No, listen to me.” She leaned forward and rose from the chair before she reached out to grab his hand. Her grip felt a bit too firm. “I didn’t let my guard down. Whoever ambushed me bypassed my telepathic field.”

Yet, from what he glimpsed in her eyes, it seemed she had very much let her guard down, which allowed Sinister to catch her by surprise. Even if she had, he wouldn’t blame her. Everyone had their moments of vulnerability.

He squeezed her hand, giving her a friendly smile to ease her heart. “Psy, nobody is putting you on trial here. This isn’t a reflection of your skills.”

“I’m glad you understand that.” She forced a smile, but he could see how rattled she was about being taken as a hostage. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“I know.”

She looked into his eyes as if trying to decide whether he really meant it or was just saying it to appease her. “...Can we delay tomorrow’s training? I need time to buy new swords.”

“Of course.”

Only then did the stiffness leave her shoulders, allowing her to relax. She drew her hand away from his grip and nodded at Emma. “I’m going to rest.”

Emma swept her hand, gesturing to the elevator. “Take a shower and change. We’re having dinner at the club. With everyone here.”

Psylocke glanced at him from the corner of her eyes before nodding her head. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Dante watched Psylocke leave, though calling it walking was generous as she was almost jogging. It was as if she was fleeing an awkward situation.

While waiting for the elevator, she tapped her right boot on the floor, looking quite impatient.

He was staring at her back, which she would’ve easily noticed. She was a telepath on top of having top-notch instincts for battle. Yet, she didn’t glance back at him, though her posture became a bit stiff. She seemed aggressively committed to not looking back at him. Even after she stepped inside the elevator, she leaned on the side, angling herself in a way to avoid any possibility of eye contact.

In the elevator mirror, he caught Psylocke staring at her own reflection. As the elevator doors started to close, Psylocke turned a bit and gave her ass a firm squeeze. That was all he saw before the elevator started heading up.

He had a feeling that squeeze had something to do with his prior compliments for her ass, which pointed to one ludicrous possibility.

‘Does she… like me?’

The thought felt absurd. However, her body language clearly painted this as her having some attraction for him. It was hard to believe that revenge-focused Psylocke would fall for someone, especially when they had barely spent much time together. Maybe she had a bit of a crush on the man who understood her better than anybody else.

‘Well, no point thinking about it.’

Psylocke wouldn’t allow herself to indulge before she finished her revenge on the Hand. Until then, she would most likely keep it a secret.

He noticed Emma’s sharp glare and sighed. “I’m innocent.”

This time, he really was. Aside from that one compliment, he had made no attempts to impress Psylocke in any way. If anything, he had been utterly respectful toward her ever since their first meeting.

Emma shook her head. “This is… just sad.”

He ignored Emma’s whisper and woke up Jean with Biokinesis.

Jean winced as her eyes opened, her right hand reaching to her temple. “My head… Dante… Felicia… What the hell happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Felicia whispered gently, keeping a steady hand on Jean’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. It feels like my head is going to explode.”

Felicia glanced up at him. “Darling, can you fix it?”

“On it.”

He tapped into Biokinesis again and eased Jean’s migraine; it was the inevitable price of pushing her psychic powers past their limit. She might have fought hard when she got ambushed, and her attempt had backfired. Her mind was already exhausted after the battle against the Brood.

Jean took a deep breath, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Thanks.”

Now that everything was fine, at least for the moment, everyone could relax. The tension from Sinister’s broadcast had completely evaporated, replaced by a warm, chaotic energy that only came when too many strong personalities gathered in the same place.

Piotr and Remy moved to a pair of lobby couches. The big Russian laughed heartily at the stories Gambit spun of his fleeting romance with a woman he definitely shouldn’t have been flirting with.

Illyana, Felicia, and Laura drifted over to Candra, hoping to get some insights from her. They peppered the ancient mutant with questions, and to his surprise, Candra answered them patiently. Even Emma joined the circle, only to be mercilessly teased by Candra.

Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye.

Dante was starting to consider calling Psylocke to check on her. The earlier panic could’ve spiraled into something worse. After all, a revenge-filled mind wasn’t the most stable.

Suddenly, the lobby came to a halt. Remy trailed off in the middle of his story, his eyes widening. Piotr's laughter faded. Felicia and Laura whispered to each other, and Emma threw an accusatory glare at Dante’s back. Even Candra paused her work long enough to glance over with an arched brow.

Dante caught a silhouette in the corner of his eyes and turned, only to have his breath taken away.

Psylocke, who was coming down the stairs, also paused her steps. Her current attire couldn’t have been more different from her usual revealing bodysuit. She was wearing a black kimono, upon which flying white cranes were embroidered across the silk fabric, each one rendered in such exquisite detail they looked moments from lifting off the cloth. A deep crimson obi cinched her waist that drew attention to the curve of her figure beneath the flowing silk.

Her long raven hair fell loose in a dark waterfall, framing an exquisite face. Unlike her usual self, she had painted her lips dark and wore silver hoops on her ears. The subtle red on her cheeks indicated the presence of makeup, which Psylocke had never used before, at least not in front of him.

But today, everything about her was different.

The panic from earlier had been buried, replaced by a poised calm and dignified demeanor. The demeanor of a woman who had clear goals in sight. A woman who wouldn’t hesitate in taking what she desired.