---

"Alex, aren't you being a little too paranoid?"

Vanessa's voice sliced through the tense air like a scalpel, her brows furrowed in genuine doubt. Her words weren't meant to mock, but they carried that familiar undertone of challenge—one only someone close enough to speak her mind would dare voice.

Even if this so-called "first mutant" truly existed—some godlike being from ancient times—how could he possibly sense something as subtle as telepathic surveillance? That would require mental prowess that surpassed even the likes of Professor X, Jean Grey, or Emma Frost.

"Vanessa, this isn't just about us. This is about the entire world."

Alex's response was like iron—calm, cold, and resolute. His voice carried none of the uncertainty Vanessa hoped to find. Instead, it radiated a quiet dread that made even her feel uneasy.

He had already unlocked the full potential of the Homelander template, gaining strength that placed him at the very peak of mutantkind. Yet despite that… he wasn't confident he could beat this so-called Apocalypse.

That alone said everything.

This wasn't arrogance. This was caution—survival instinct.

He didn't know how strong Apocalypse truly was, and until he did, the ancient mutant could not be allowed to awaken. Not under any circumstances. Not while Alex still didn't have the means to win.

But ignoring the threat completely? That was a luxury they no longer had.

So the answer was simple:

Indirect reconnaissance.

"I understand."

Emma's reply came with a nod—short, crisp, and serious. Her demeanor shifted immediately. If Alex was this on edge, there was no room for recklessness.

She could see it in his eyes—this wasn't some overblown theory or paranoia. This was something real. Something ancient.

That said… part of her still doubted.

Apocalypse? The first mutant? It all sounded like something out of ancient scrolls or bad science fiction. She'd read plenty of mutant conspiracy theories. Some even named ancient deities as mutants—Zeus, Ra, Odin. Most were pure fantasy.

But then—her fingers stilled as she scrolled.

She found something.

"En Sabah Nur."

The words left her lips like a whisper carried on dust.

Everyone looked up.

"There are legends about this name that go back thousands of years. Scrolls, inscriptions, forgotten temples. Even now, he has followers—zealots who worship him like a god."

Her voice turned grimmer with each line.

"They believe he's the first mutant, always accompanied by the Four Horsemen—a twisted homage to the biblical apocalypse."

"And every time he awakens, the world teeters on the edge of destruction."

A moment of silence.

Then—

"But no one alive has actually seen him," she finished.

"Wait… so he's real?" Hank's voice cracked the silence, half-joking—half terrified.

"Unconfirmed." Emma shook her head, slowly. "The existence of a cult doesn't prove their god is real. It could just be a myth they cling to."

"Where are these followers?" Alex asked quietly.

"Cairo, Egypt."

Alex's eyes narrowed.

Cairo.

He immediately thought back to the movies. In every version of Apocalypse's resurrection, it always began there—with some fool unsealing a long-forgotten tomb, exposing it to light or psychic waves.

That couldn't happen in this world.

He wouldn't allow it.

"If I dig deeper, I might confirm whether he exists," Emma suggested carefully, her tone cautious.

"No."

Alex's refusal was immediate and absolute. His voice brooked no debate.

"From here on out, I'll handle it."

He turned sharply to Selene, who had been listening in thoughtful silence.

"Send a covert team to Cairo. Infiltrate that cult. Monitor everything. If they so much as move a rock near that tomb, I want to know."

Selene gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Consider it done."

They all knew the stakes now.

In the movies, Apocalypse had been awakened by accident—by carelessness.

There would be no accidents this time.

---

Several Weeks Later

With the looming threat of Apocalypse momentarily contained, Alex returned to his top priorities:

1. Grow stronger.

2. Build the mutant nation.

Everything else—politics, revenge, reputation—could wait.

Meanwhile, Cain Marko—the Juggernaut—had been stripped of his Crimson Gem. Without its power, he was no more threatening than an ordinary strongman with a personal vendetta against Charles Xavier.

Let him fume. Let him scream.

He was no longer Alex's concern.

As for Havok, it was nothing short of a miracle that he had survived Juggernaut's devastating punch. The man was still alive—but barely. He'd be bedridden for months, if not longer. The rest would depend on his will to live… and the healing resources Alex could spare.

---

S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters – Rebuilt

The last base had been reduced to rubble during the Devastator incident—an event so catastrophic it had sent ripples across every intelligence agency on the planet.

The new facility?

Top-tier. Advanced. A fortress.

And yet… two intruders had entered without tripping a single alarm.

They hadn't snuck in. They hadn't teleported. They'd simply… walked in.

Because they were that confident.

Because they were that dangerous.

"You're sure the Tesseract isn't here?"

A man in a dark suit, thick-rimmed glasses, and gray at the temples asked, exhaling a slow, frustrated breath as he examined the empty vault.

His companion—a tall, blond figure in a navy-blue uniform and red-striped shield strapped to his back—gave a solemn nod.

"We've turned this place inside out. It's not here."

The man clenched his fists. The possibilities swirled in his mind—and none of them were good.

Captain America. Steve Rogers.

And beside him?

Howard Stark.

Both men bore heavy expressions.

This wasn't just about locating a lost artifact. It was about preventing what they feared most.

If the Tesseract wasn't here… there was only one other place it could be.

Homelander's territory.

And that changed everything.

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