The heavy, almost suffocating silence inside the war room was broken by Alex's calm, almost cheerful voice.

"Captain America—Steve Rogers."

"Iron Man—Tony Stark."

"Welcome, guests!"

His tone was warm and oddly hospitable, as if he were greeting friends who had come for tea rather than two battered men whose faces were still swollen from the beating he had given them.

He leaned slightly forward, the corners of his lips curling in a polite, unreadable smile. It was the kind of expression that could either be genuine or mocking—depending on how you wanted to see it.

Tony: "..."

Steve: "..."

Both men stood there, neither speaking, their eyes fixed on Alex with the same look one might give a predator pretending to be tame.

If not for the fact that my face is still throbbing, I might actually believe you're just being polite, Steve thought grimly.

"Homelander, what do you want?"

Steve's voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. His jaw tightened as his sharp gaze locked onto Alex's, refusing to look away.

"You won't give us the Tesseract, but you also won't let us leave. What's your game?"

Alex's smile widened by a fraction.

"'Game' is such a strong word, Cap."

From the side, Hank awkwardly raised a hand in greeting, his nervousness written all over his face.

"Uh, by the way—big fan. I'm Hank—"

"I know who you are." Steve cut in before he could finish.

Hank froze mid-wave.

"What about us?"

The voice came from Vanessa, who stood with her arms folded, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Steve's eyes moved across the room in a slow, deliberate sweep, landing briefly on each person.

"Mimic. Mystique. Cyclops."

He spoke their names without hesitation, as if reading them off a mental roster.

"Whoa." Scott couldn't hide his grin. "So you are from the future!"

His voice carried an edge of excitement, the kind that made the rest of the room glance at him in mild disbelief.

"Homelander already knew, didn't he?"

Steve's eyes slid back to Alex, his expression cool, his tone accusing.

Alex didn't bother answering. His silence said enough.

"Enough small talk."

Tony stepped forward, his tone sharper, cutting through the tension like glass.

"You could've let us go or killed us. You didn't. So—what's your play?"

"Relax. I just want to talk."

Alex's voice was unhurried, almost lazy. He dropped onto the couch like a man settling in for a casual evening, one arm resting along the back as he gestured toward the chairs opposite him.

For a few seconds, the two Avengers didn't move. Then, perhaps realizing there was no point in posturing while injured and surrounded, they sat down—though their bodies remained tense, ready to react at any moment.

"What do you want to know?" Steve asked warily.

"The future, of course."

Alex leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

"Otherwise, what's the point of having time travelers here?"

The words drew the attention of everyone in the room. Even those who had been skeptical moments ago were now leaning forward slightly, eager for answers.

"Cap, what happens to mutants in the future?"

Raven's voice was sharper than she intended, laced with something dangerously close to desperation.

Her eyes locked on Steve's, searching for any hint of good news.

The rest of the mutants were equally focused, some holding their breath. In their hearts, they all wanted to believe the future was brighter—that their nation had endured.

But then—

Steve glanced at Tony. Tony glanced back.

Something unspoken passed between them, and their expressions darkened.

The change was immediate, like the sun being blotted out by thick storm clouds.

A long, heavy silence followed.

"Cap?" Hank's voice cracked slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Emma—" Vanessa turned toward the telepath, hoping she could just rip the truth from their minds.

But Steve raised a hand.

"Don't. I'll tell you."

The way he said it carried a weight that made even Emma hesitate.

He drew in a slow, steadying breath.

"In the future… mutants are gone."

The word hit like a thunderclap.

Gone.

The room seemed to freeze.

"Gone?" Scott repeated, his voice faltering. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Exactly what it sounds like."

Tony's tone was low, grim. His eyes didn't waver as he looked at them.

"Mutants don't exist in our time."

The reaction was instantaneous.

"That's impossible!"

"How?!"

Half a dozen voices spoke at once, overlapping in shock and disbelief.

Even Alex's brow furrowed, a subtle change in his otherwise composed demeanor. This… wasn't part of the future he knew.

His voice cut through the rising noise like a blade.

"Stark. Rogers. Explain."

"We don't know how it happened."

Steve's shoulders seemed heavier as he exhaled.

"Krakoa—a mutant nation founded by you, Xavier, and Magneto—was thriving. Recognized globally."

A flicker of pride passed through the room at those words.

They'd done it. Their dream of unity and recognition had become reality.

But that pride lasted only seconds.

"Then, one day… every mutant in Krakoa vanished."

"Overnight."

"No traces. No warnings. Just… gone."

Tony's voice was as serious as they had ever heard it.

"The world searched for answers. But Krakoa's fate remains… a mystery."

Hank's voice trembled when he spoke next.

"You're saying one day, everything was normal—and the next, all mutants just… disappeared?"

Steve nodded slowly, the weight of the truth heavy in his eyes.

"Like they were erased from existence."

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