Kurogai slowly opened his eyes. They glowed crimson, blood-red and radiant, reminiscent of the Mangekyo patterns from before. At first glance, it didn't seem much different—but Kurogai could feel it. Deep inside, something had changed.

"Izanagi…" he murmured.

The name alone carried weight. This was no ordinary power—it was a forbidden art.

Izanagi was a technique unlike any other, an illusion that bent the rules of life and death. Once activated, it could rewrite reality itself: turning injury or even death into nothing but a dream, while making an attacker's blow real and irreversible. It was the ultimate illusion, cast upon the self—a weapon of resurrection.

But such a gift carried a price. In legend, Izanagi consumed the eye that used it, robbing it of sight forever.

Kurogai, however, was different. His Ultimate Pupil was not bound by such limitations. His vision would remain intact. Still, the knowledge pressed against his mind: even his evolved eyes would suffer an irreversible loss if Izanagi were invoked. The power was too absolute, too unnatural. For the first time in a long while, even Kurogai hesitated.

Loss. That word had never applied to his eyes before. The Ultimate Pupil erased side effects, stripped away fatal flaws. Yet this ability remained dangerous, a testament to its overwhelming strength. After all, what greater power existed than the ability to change established reality?

"…I won't use it unless I have no choice." His voice was calm, but edged with steel. "If the day comes where everything is on the line, then Izanagi will be my final card."

He let the thought go, shifting focus back to his goals.

"What matters now is perfecting the second ring of the pupil."

The scythe vanished from his grip, dissolving into nothing as his mind turned to calculation. He had already proven that mutants created through forced transformation could still fuel his evolution. All he needed was more of their genes. Enough to push the second pupil ring to its peak.

"It will take more this time than before," he muttered, recalling the battle. "Two hundred altered mutants only barely met the requirement."

Back at Xavier's Academy, harvesting the genes of fifty natural mutants had been sufficient for an advancement. Now the threshold was higher. Perhaps artificially altered mutants carried less of the essence he required. Or perhaps, as he grew stronger, each step forward demanded more.

It didn't matter. He had the means. His grasp of the transformation process gave him access to an endless supply. Ordinary humans were countless, and with the right technology, each one could be converted into a mutant. The harvest would never run dry.

"For me, quantity is no obstacle." His eyes gleamed. "If the world resists, I will simply create what I need."

Still, the immediate concern was not future harvests. The spacecraft around them lay in disarray after the riot. Smoke lingered in the halls, lights flickered, and destruction marred every surface. His priority had to be restoring order.

With a final glance down the ruined corridor, Kurogai turned and made his way back. Soon, he stood before Jean Grey and Skye.

"Kurogai…" Jean's voice was soft, heavy with guilt. She had only just regained her composure, but when she looked at him, regret filled her expression. "This was my fault. If I hadn't been careless, Mystique would never have gotten the chance to cause such chaos."

Kurogai studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then his voice cut through, steady and unshaken.

"It's not your fault, Jean. None of us can control everything. What matters is that you're safe. I'd rather see this entire base reduced to rubble than lose you. You and Skye—your lives come first. The base can be rebuilt. You cannot."

The words struck her harder than any reprimand could. For a moment, Jean was speechless, her guilt replaced with warmth. A faint smile softened her features. His care, his recognition of her value—it eased the weight she had been carrying.

"…I understand. I'll be more careful from now on," she promised, her voice gentle, touched with emotion.

Kurogai gave a slight nod. "Good. Now, let's deal with the wreckage. Clean the ship first, then we can worry about what comes after."

Jean smiled at him, her heart steadied. Skye, too, glanced between them with a small look of relief. Whatever storms had passed, they would face the next steps together.

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