Steve Chapter 841: Apocalypse, Bait... (Patreon)

“You’re saying Bolivar found some monster in Egypt?”

Hearing what these black-suited agents said, Fang Mo couldn’t help wearing a somewhat surprised look.

When Egypt got mentioned, the first thing that popped into Fang Mo’s head was Dio—after all, who doesn’t love JoJo Part 3’s invincible Jotaro? Unfortunately, the “monster” these FBI folks spoke of wasn’t a vampire but rather a major X-Men antagonist: the world’s first mutant, according to legend.

The ancient Egyptian god who once ruled—Apocalypse.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

The leading agent nodded. “We’re talking about a creature with blue skin, almost alien-looking, wearing some strange set of armor. Here—this is the last photo our people managed to send back…”

As he spoke, he took out a photograph.

Fang Mo received it, and at a glance recognized the subject’s identity.

Taken in obvious haste, the photo showed Apocalypse—his eyes had an eerie white glow, and he was holding out a hand toward the camera. He appeared to be using some kind of power, which likely spelled doom for whoever took the shot.

Spotting that iconic appearance, Fang Mo rubbed his chin, recalling the character’s backstory.

If he wasn’t mistaken, that villain should be from the film X-Men: Apocalypse. Like he’d noted earlier, the X-Men timeline is notoriously strange:

It starts from First Class onward, leading up to a fork at the 1973 events in Days of Future Past.

The “old” timeline would have included the original trilogy plus Days of Future Past.

Days of Future Past then resets that timeline, sending everyone back to 1973 in a new timeline. That timeline eventually continues into Apocalypse and Dark Phoenix and so forth.

As Fang Mo recalled, Apocalypse happens well after the events of Days of Future Past. The story gap was at least a decade or more. After all, in Days of Future Past, Charles hadn’t even “adopted” Jean Grey yet. By the time Apocalypse comes around, she’s already a teenage girl, powerful enough to vaporize Apocalypse. Sure, girls mature earlier in the West, but Fang Mo definitely doesn’t buy that without a good decade of timeskip.

“Tch…”

Thinking along those lines, Fang Mo frowned. He had no clue how Bolivar ended up crossing paths with Apocalypse. But if the guy awakened ten years early, that storyline was going to go completely off the rails.

In the original, Apocalypse recruited four mutant “Horsemen” (Angel, Psylocke, Storm, Magneto). Considering the current situation, maybe Angel, Psylocke, or Storm were still just kids. Who knew which mutants he’d choose as his new Horsemen now?

“…What is that, exactly?”

While Fang Mo was pondering, both Logan and Charles leaned in to look at the photo. “Is he a mutant?”

“He obviously looks like an alien,”

Fang Mo interjected, glancing at Charles. Charles was so sincere that if he admitted it was a mutant, that might just make the government worry. “Ancient Egypt has plenty of unsolved mysteries—so this must be an alien, right? Why else would Bolivar chase after a mutant so willingly?”

“That does make sense,”

Charles mused, nodding reflexively.

“So what’s Bolivar playing at now?”

Logan muttered, thoroughly confused. “Why’s he hooking up with some alien?”

“Beats me…”

Fang Mo shrugged. He really had no idea how Bolivar ended up discovering Apocalypse. Possibly some unstoppable “plot inertia.”

If you looked at standard Marvel logic, you might blame the “cosmic will” or some “meta-narrative force.”

After a moment’s thought, Fang Mo turned to the lead FBI agent: “What’s the President’s stance here? They want me to handle it?”

“Are you…able to handle it?”

The black-suited agents exchanged glances.

“Are you doubting my abilities?”

Fang Mo raised an eyebrow. “I singlehandedly solved the Cuban Missile Crisis in ’62. Wanna go lie in that big crater and think about it?”

“…I understand.”

The man in charge froze a moment, then nodded. “We’ll inform the President.”

Sure enough, the agents came and went swiftly. Having confirmed Fang Mo’s attitude, they took their leave in under five minutes—astonishing efficiency. It drew a stark contrast with how slow and sloppy America’s lower-level officials often were.

Once they departed, silence descended on the room.

“So spill it,”

Logan broke the ice. “Why were you disguised as Erik?”

“Because I’m the Lord of All Maids (万雌王)…”
Fang Mo answered earnestly, even producing a telepathic-shield helmet from who-knows-where.

“The moment I let you out of my sight, you start stirring up trouble,”

Logan groaned. “You didn’t say anything too crazy to those reporters, did you? Charles—why didn’t you keep an eye on him…?”

“…”

Charles said nothing, merely meeting Logan’s gaze. His meaning was clear: “Do you really think I could possibly keep him under control?”

“…Forget it.”

Logan, getting no answer, took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “Anyway, let’s figure out a plan. Bolivar…plus that alien. How do we handle them?”

“Simple. We catch Bolivar.”

Fang Mo said. “As for Apocalypse…we just kill him.”

“Apocalypse? That’s the alien’s name?”

Logan shot Fang Mo a look. “You obviously know something—did you use your precognitive power again?”

“More or less,”

Fang Mo said, not bothering to clarify. “He’s an ancient mutant with decent abilities, but his brain’s fried. As soon as he wakes up, it’s the same old ‘take over the world’ spiel.”

“A mutant?”

Charles blinked. “Didn’t you just say he was an alien?”

“Must be Bolivar’s conspiracy,”

Logan deduced quickly. “You want to weaponize political correctness against Bolivar, so naturally he tries to show everyone the worst side of mutants, fueling more fear of them.”

“In simpler terms, he’s flinging a pot of sh at us,”**

Fang Mo spread his hands. “But I’m usually the one doing the pot-flinging, you see. Let me show you how I’ll torment him now….”

“So we just go to Egypt now?”

Logan asked.

“No telling if he’s still in Egypt,”

Fang Mo rubbed his chin. “He’s got a teleportation ability. Normally, he should be assembling his four Horsemen…”

“Four what?

Logan blinked.

“Haven’t you read the Bible? They’re referencing the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse,”
Charles offered. “War, famine, death…stuff like that…”

“They’re not that tough—just four mutants,”
Fang Mo dismissed with a wave, then turned his gaze upon Charles.

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?”

A chill ran down Charles’s spine, as though he’d been targeted by something terrible. His hairs stood on end.

“I just thought of a perfect way to lure Apocalypse,”

Fang Mo said with a grin.

“Could you not torment Charles any further?”
Logan recognized that devious look and sighed. “If you need to pick on someone, pick on me.”

“Nope, doesn’t work that way,”

Fang Mo shook his head. “Apocalypse isn’t into…your kind of vibe…”

“Huh?!”

Charles was startled. “What do you mean, ‘he’s not into that kind of man’? Are you implying he is into me? Wh-What are you planning to do?!”

“You’ve misunderstood,”

Fang Mo waved him off. “Not your body—your power. Apocalypse wants your mutant ability.”

“My…mutant ability?”

Charles and Logan both froze.

“Apocalypse uses a sort of ‘renewal’—er, body-hopping—technique,”

Fang Mo explained succinctly. “He can possess a mutant, thereby gaining their abilities. Over the centuries, he’s collected quite a lot of powers, including fast regeneration. But he’s never had mental powers that can control minds.”

“So that’s it,”

Charles exhaled in relief. “Dammit, you nearly scared me to death…”

“Relax. I never joke about butts,”

Fang Mo assured him. “I’m perfectly straight. Which is also why I steer clear of the Indu region.”

“What does that have to do with India?”

Logan frowned.

“Everyone knows that Jesus’s hands have holes, so he can’t block his backside,”

Fang Mo intoned, somehow producing two round holes in his hands. “And as for India…well, they eat everything: wasps, exhaust pipes, pigs, cows, foreigners… You think I’d dare go there?”

“Could you stop with that nonsense?

Logan pleaded. “You’re strong enough—what could you possibly fear from them?”

“I just don’t want to go,”

Fang Mo shook his head again. “All that masala stuff is too harsh on the stomach. One case of diarrhea and you can’t even block it with your hand—”

“Enough, please,”

Charles cut in painfully, clearly visualizing the scenario. “Let’s talk about Apocalypse.”

“So your plan is to use Charles’s power as bait, lure him in, and wipe him out?”

Logan’s face was grim.

“Mm-hmm, that’s it,”

Fang Mo nodded confidently. “But Charles might suffer some hardship along the way. Still, we’re saving the world here. I’m sure our great Professor X has made his peace with that, right?”

“Uh…”

Charles, seeing Fang Mo’s expression, felt an inexplicable dread.

“So let’s do it right now?”

Fang Mo was all enthusiasm. “Apocalypse wants to destroy the world, so saving it is urgent, Charles…”

“I’d, um…I’d better finish this interview first.”

Charles swallowed, dodging the subject.

“Tsk… Spineless!”

Fang Mo clicked his tongue, disappointed. But then he turned to leave the room. “Fine. In that case, I’ll wait till you’re done.”

Having said so, he walked out of the library.

“Wait, I—”

Charles had a thousand retorts on the tip of his tongue but didn’t know how to say them. Finally, he could only sigh. “Ugh.”

At this point, there was nothing he could do. With another long sigh, he used his powers to alter the memories of the TV staff, tidying up their recollections as best he could.

Fortunately, the camera had been paused earlier. Otherwise, all that madness would have been recorded for posterity…

…

While Charles finished his interview…

In Xavier’s courtyard, Fang Mo found a random bench and sat down, pulling out a shiny golden Holy Grail. He seemed to be just idling there.

Actually, he was testing out some small tricks he planned to use later. Thanks to the books Ancient One had given him, Fang Mo really had gained some new insights into those “permissions” and was no longer a clueless newbie; he could at least manage some rudimentary reality-warping.

After about half an hour, the New York TV crew wrapped up their interview. Charles gave them a brief tour of the estate, and they left—after all, editing the footage would take time.

“Well, I’m all ready now,”

Fang Mo said, rising to greet Charles once he emerged.

“What are you planning?”
Charles, though nervous, forced himself to ask.

“Here, have a seat first.”

Fang Mo said nothing else, just led Charles over to a bench in the courtyard. Then he took out something that looked like a wishing machine [“许愿机,” a device from Fang Mo’s dimension], aiming it at Charles. “You might feel uncomfortable, but bear with it for a few hours, okay?”

“Uncomfortable…how?”

Charles hadn’t even finished speaking when Fang Mo activated the device.

A brilliant white glow enveloped them. Charles felt a wave of warmth, and then…he lost all control of his body. Even that warmth quickly melted away.

“!”

Charles panicked. “What…what’s happening to me?”

“All right, all done.”

Seeing Charles slumped on the bench, Fang Mo turned and shouted to Logan:

“Charles is paralyzed from the chest down again. Don’t let him soil himself—hurry and move him to the Cerebro room!”