The dark red whip immediately caught Erik's attention.
"Is that... the tail of that red teleporter who was with Shaw?"
He clearly remembered the crimson-skinned mutant who had resembled something from a hellish nightmare.
Charles also recognized the trophy, recalling the teleporting mutant he'd glimpsed in Emma Frost's memories—one of Shaw's key lieutenants.
Despite Logan's assurances about Marcus's capabilities, Charles found it difficult to believe that anyone could have managed to sever the tail of such an elusive opponent. A teleporter could vanish instantly at the first sign of danger.
"How effective is it as a weapon?" Charles asked, genuinely curious about the modified appendage.
Before he'd even finished his question, the whip seemed to take on a life of its own. It unfurled from Marcus's hand with serpentine fluidity, wrapping tightly around Charles's torso. Despite his struggles, the coils only tightened further.
"Let... me... go!" Charles gasped, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.
Marcus gave a subtle flick of his wrist, and the whip immediately released its grip, falling harmlessly to the ground.
"Does that answer your question?" he asked with a slight smirk.
"That's not a whip," Charles coughed, trying to catch his breath. "It's more like a constrictor snake!"
The force with which it had squeezed him had been alarming—as though it truly intended to crush his ribcage. It took several moments for Charles to fully recover.
Once he'd regained his composure, he addressed the group with newfound seriousness.
"There's something important I need to discuss with all of you."
During their flight back, he and Moira had agreed that the CIA facility was no longer secure. They needed to relocate to somewhere safer.
Although Marcus had successfully repelled Shaw, there was no guarantee he wouldn't return with reinforcements. To prevent another attack, Charles had decided to move everyone to his family estate.
The Xavier mansion offered several advantages: it was isolated from population centers, provided ample space for training, and—most importantly—its location was unknown to Shaw and his allies.
"To protect ourselves from Shaw's next move, I propose we relocate to a more secure facility immediately," Charles announced.
The suggestion met with universal approval. Everyone had witnessed Shaw's formidable powers firsthand. Without Marcus's intervention, they would have been utterly defenseless against him.
While Shaw would likely need time to recover from his injuries, none of them relished the prospect of living in constant fear of another surprise attack.
As the recruits dispersed to gather their belongings, Marcus nudged Logan's shoulder.
"You seem troubled. Did the mission not go as planned?"
"The mission went fine," Logan replied, exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke as he settled onto a nearby planter. "We captured a woman who can transform her body into diamond. Charles extracted Shaw's plans from her memories." He shook his head grimly. "I've seen some crazy bastards in my time, but this takes the cake. Shaw's planning to trigger a global nuclear war."
"A nuclear war?" Marcus raised an eyebrow with interest.
He recalled something about Shaw's beliefs—that mutants were products of atomic energy, capable of evolving further through nuclear radiation. Marcus had dismissed it as megalomaniacal rhetoric, but apparently, Shaw was serious enough to put this madness into action.
"It seems Hitler's influence runs deeper than just the fashion sense," Marcus remarked dryly.
Beyond the infamous dictator, he couldn't think of anyone else who might have inspired such genocidal ambitions in Shaw.
Setting aside these dark thoughts, Marcus glanced at the Devil's Touch coiled in his hand.
"Care to help me test this thing's capabilities? I could use some feedback on its effectiveness."
Logan responded with a withering look. He wasn't about to volunteer as a test subject for what was essentially a weaponized alien appendage.
His mutation may have granted him extraordinary healing abilities, but that didn't mean he enjoyed pain.
Seeing Logan's reluctance, Marcus awkwardly withdrew the offer. He couldn't exactly force the experiment on an unwilling participant.
The group packed efficiently, and soon they were boarding a private plane bound for Charles's estate.
During the flight, Marcus made his way to where Charles was seated.
"As a professor, I imagine you must have substantial laboratory equipment at your disposal," he said casually.
"Naturally," Charles confirmed. "Publishing research papers requires extensive experimental data. Did you have something specific in mind?"
"I'd like to examine your facilities," Marcus explained. "There might be resources there that could prove useful for some projects I'm considering."
He planned to use this opportunity to fabricate equipment that might prevent a repeat of yesterday's near-disaster. With the right tools, he could create devices that would significantly enhance their tactical advantages against Shaw.
"Xavier Manor is enormous," was everyone's collective reaction as they disembarked from the plane.
The estate sprawled before them—a vast expanse of manicured grounds surrounding a mansion that more closely resembled a small castle than a private residence.
Charles and Raven appeared entirely unfazed by the grandeur. Having grown up here, the scale of the property no longer registered as exceptional to them.
"Goddamn capitalists," Marcus muttered under his breath as he surveyed the grounds.
The contrast was stark. He and Logan risked their lives on battlefields for a few hundred thousand dollars—enough, at best, to purchase a modest farm for retirement.
Meanwhile, Charles casually owned an estate larger than many farms combined. The grounds alone were expansive enough to host equestrian events, and they had just landed on the property's private helipad.
Though Marcus had known Charles came from wealth, the reality of that privilege was something else entirely.
"Perhaps we should renegotiate our commission," he remarked to no one in particular, though he knew he wouldn't actually do so. A mercenary's reputation depended on honoring agreed-upon terms.
As they entered the mansion, the interior proved equally impressive. The castle-like structure was filled with priceless artwork, antique furniture, and architectural details that spoke of generations of accumulated wealth.
"No wonder this becomes a school for mutants in the future," Marcus commented quietly. "There are enough rooms here to house dozens of students."
Everywhere he looked, he saw evidence of extraordinary financial resources—from hand-carved doors made of rare hardwoods to original paintings by masters hanging casually in corridors.
"Let's hope his laboratory equipment is equally impressive," Marcus thought, his anticipation growing.
With Charles's obvious wealth, the scientific instruments at his disposal should be top-of-the-line. Access to such resources would allow Marcus to create devices that could significantly enhance his combat capabilities.
Charles led them through the mansion, assigning rooms to each person before finally bringing Marcus to his personal laboratory.
"This facility contains some of the world's most advanced equipment," Charles explained with justifiable pride. "It should meet your requirements, whatever they may be."
Surveying the laboratory, Marcus nodded with satisfaction. The array of scientific instruments would indeed fulfill his minimum specifications for fabricating enhanced weaponry.
"This will do nicely," he confirmed. "Now I can finally construct some of those special devices I've been planning."
Already mentally cataloging the components he would need, Marcus began examining the equipment more closely, essentially forgetting Charles was still present.
Charles simply smiled at his single-minded focus, quietly excusing himself from the laboratory.
Marcus's plans were relatively straightforward. He intended to create several specialized gadgets, including a void energy projection device that could suppress mutant abilities at a distance, along with further enhancements to the Devil's Touch.