Explosions echoed through the structure, making the very ground beneath them quiver. Debris fell from overhead. Tyson and Illyana exchanged wide-eyed glances, both understanding the gravity of the situation. The cacophony seemed to shake Professor Xavier from the trance that had held him. His normally composed face looked disoriented as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. "Tyson, Illyana," he murmured, his voice shaky. "What’s happening?"


    Before either could answer, a burst of blue smoke filled the space, its acrid scent hanging in the air. From within it emerged Storm, her white hair flowing like a silken cloud, and Nightcrawler, his blue-skinned, demonic appearance contrasting with his jubilant expression. "Wunderbar!" Nightcrawler exclaimed, doing a little pirouette in the air, tail swinging. "A blind teleport and I still have all my fingers and toes!"


    Storm''s crystal blue eyes darted around, assessing the situation. Her brow furrowed as she took in the scene; the still form of the unknown mutant, and Xavier''s dazed state. The wind swirled around her as her innate connection to the elements responded to her growing concern.


    "What''s going on?" she demanded.


    Xavier removed the Cerebro helmet and then clutched the armrests of his wheelchair, his fingers white with the strain, "Wait," he mumbled, his voice a trembling whisper, "It''s... it''s coming back to me." There was a haunting silence, the weight of countless memories crashing back into him. His voice broke the stillness, full of disbelief and horror. "Oh no... What have I done?"


    Tyson stepped forward, his posture was resolute but seemingly burdened. "It wasn''t you, Professor," he began, "I''m sorry... It was me. Magneto wanted to use you as a weapon against all of humanity, and we couldn''t stand by and watch… I exploited your vulnerability. Every human on Earth has forgotten that mutants ever existed. It may seem like a hollow apology, but I can''t express how sorry I am for manipulating you this way. But I don''t regret it. I did what I thought needed to be done."


    Xavier''s face, a mask of shock, was slowly overtaken by a profound sadness. But Tyson pressed on, compelled by a drive to explain himself. "I hope one day you can understand why I did it," he continued. "You''ve dedicated your life to building bridges between mutants and humans. But the chasm of mistrust and hate... it''s deep, Professor. Too deep. At least now, there''s a blank slate. A chance to build anew."


    Illyana stepped beside Tyson, her eyes, too, shining with the weight of their decision. "We thought it was the best way," she whispered, though whether as an explanation or an apology, it was unclear.


    Tyson struggled to maintain his composure amid the weight of everything that had just occurred. He looked directly at Professor Xavier, his voice came out strained but clear, "Professor, I think Stryker set off some explosions within the dam."


    Storm''s eyes widened, already considering the quickest exit. Nightcrawler looked around anxiously, his tail flicking with unease.


    Tyson continued, "This place isn’t safe anymore. You should get to the jet. Ensure the safety of the children that were taken from the Institute."


    The gravity of the situation was palpable. Xavier''s face, still reeling from the revelation, now also showed concern for the young mutants under his care. But before he could say anything Tyson and Illyana locked hands, and in the brilliant flash of Illyana''s teleportation magic, they vanished. Xavier and the X-Men were left amidst the dim glow of Cerebro, grappling with the vast implications of their actions.


    Illyana''s powers flashed brightly as the surroundings morphed from the dimly lit Cerebro chamber to the steel-laden hallways outside. The instant they materialized, Tyson quickly released her hand, not wanting to keep prolonged contact. Instead, he snaked an arm around her waist, ensuring they stayed close.


    Tyson''s eyes darted around, pinpointing their position. The layout of the base was mapped in his mind from Jason''s memories. He visualized their next jump. Using that knowledge, he took control of their teleportation routes. With Illyana''s trust in him, they jumped again, bypassing corridor after corridor, moving them closer to freedom. But just as they were about to make another jump, Tyson stiffened. His nostrils flared. An all-too-familiar metallic tang filled the air, but it was intermingled with the unmistakable and overpowering aroma of death.


    Omega Red.


    The Russian mutant''s pheromones were impossible to forget once you''d encountered them. But that wasn''t all. Underlying it was another scent. One that Tyson would know anywhere. "Logan..." he murmured.


    Illyana looked sharply at Tyson. "Logan? Is he here?"


    Tyson nodded slowly, his gaze focused. "And he''s not alone. We need to be careful. Omega Red is not someone I want you to get close to."


    ~~ Rogue Replacement ~~


    The underground chamber echoed with the sounds of two primal forces clashing. The metallic sheen of Omega Red''s carbonadium tentacles glinted ominously in the dim light as they lunged forward, seeking to ensnare Wolverine. Each time they came close, Logan ducked, jumped, or rolled out of harm''s way.


    But Wolverine wasn’t just on the defensive. With each dodge, his adamantium claws slashed through the air, leaving silver streaks in their wake. They met Omega Red''s tentacles with a shower of sparks, the resonating clang echoing off the walls.


    "You cannot escape me!" Omega Red hissed, his deep Russian accent filled with venom. The deadly coils shot forward again, this time wrapping around a metal beam, pulling it down in an attempt to crush Wolverine.


    But Wolverine was quick. He vaulted over the collapsing beam, charging forward and ramming into Omega Red with the full force of his body. "I don''t run, bub!" he spat back, their faces inches apart, his eyes blazing with fury.


    Omega Red used his tentacles to fling Wolverine across the room. But Logan was back on his feet almost instantly, using the momentum to spring back into the fray. Their combat was relentless, neither willing to yield. As the minutes dragged on, their movements, though fierce, had an almost choreographed quality to them. Each was learning the other''s moves, anticipating and countering. Suddenly, Wolverine lunged forward with a powerful swing of his claws aiming straight for Omega Red''s heart. But it was a feint. At the last moment, he ducked low, slashing at Omega Red''s legs, attempting to bring him down.


    Omega Red stumbled but caught himself. The two clashed again and again, the room a cacophony of metal against metal, grunts, roars, and taunts.


    The metallic clashing and guttural roars reached Tyson and Illyana as they stumbled upon the brutal battle between Wolverine and Omega Red. The scene was a chaotic blur of constantly shifting adamantium and carbonadium. But as soon as Illyana stepped into the room, her pale face turned even paler, a look of distress taking over her usually fierce countenance. It wasn''t the sight of the two battling titans that unsettled her, but the invisible death spores emitted by Omega Red.


    Tyson''s instincts kicked in, and he swiftly pulled Illyana away, "Stay here," he commanded, his tone filled with urgency. "It''ll only be a minute."


    Tyson reentered the room, "Omega Red!" he bellowed, drawing the mutant''s attention away from Wolverine.


    As Omega Red''s cold, emotionless eyes met Tyson''s, it was as if time had slowed down. Tyson tapped into the power of illusions he had acquired from Jason. With a mere thought, Wolverine vanished from Omega Red’s perception.


    The sudden disappearance of his opponent baffled Omega Red. Fury replaced the brief moment of confusion on his face. He turned to Tyson, now the only target, and charged at him, his tentacles flailing, ready to ensnare and destroy.


    But Tyson conjured a portal beneath Omega Red. His tentacles whipped and writhed, desperately trying to latch onto something, anything. But it was futile. His battle with Wolverine destroyed anything large enough to halt his fall. Within moments, the behemoth was swallowed whole, the gateway to Limbo closing behind him with a faint echo of his surprised shout.


    Wolverine looked at Tyson, an appreciative nod acknowledging his timely intervention. The very structure of the dam seemed to groan and shudder, its agonized cries echoing ominously through the air. The ground trembled beneath their feet, an unsettling reminder of the impending disaster.


    "We’ve gotta go!" Tyson''s sense of urgency was palpable. Logan’s clothes were in tatters from his intense battle, so Tyson did his best to grab onto the smaller man without making skin contact. His other arm wrapped around Illyana, and Tyson invoked her teleportation powers. Their bodies shimmered and disappeared, reappearing in a different corridor, then outside the base, rapidly covering the distance to the Blackbird.


    As they blinked into existence at the bottom of the Blackbird''s ramp, Tyson cast a glance over his shoulder. Other figures emerged from the base. Storm led the way, pushing Professor X’s wheelchair surprisingly quickly while Nightcrawler agilely hopped beside her. Surprisingly, the 5 blondes ran just behind them.


    Logan suddenly seemed to lose his bearings. He doubled over, "Think I’m gonna be sick," he grunted.


    A trio of young mutants descended the ramp. "Logan, are you okay?" Jean asked, her voice laced with concern.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Bobby, in an attempt to lighten the mood, quipped, "Guess not everyone''s got the stomach for teleporting, huh?"


    Jubilee shot him a glance. "Not the time, Iceman."


    The urgency in Tyson''s voice was unmistakable. "Guys, get inside! Quick!" he implored, his voice echoing off the metal ramp.


    Bobby pulled Logan up with a sturdy grip. "Come on, Logan. We gotta move," he said. The two of them, along with the others, swiftly moved inside the Blackbird. Storm, Nightcrawler, and Professor X were closing the distance.


    "There''s not much time left," Tyson mumbled.


    Jean narrowed her eyes as she attempted to link with Tyson’s mind. Normally, when he was this close, her telepathic abilities would allow her to gain insight, to understand the depth of the situation, but she was met with a barrier. His mind was even more difficult to read than the last time she’d tried, and her attempts just skimmed the surface. Frustrated, she admitted, "I don''t understand."


    Tyson took a deep breath and met her gaze, "Jean, let me in, just for a moment." She felt a psionic intrusion from Tyson which surprised and briefly stunned her, but she trusted him enough to lower her defenses for whatever he intended. Then, deliberately, he shifted his gaze to Bobby, then to Jubilee, the sparks from her fingers betrayed her anxiety. Finally, he looked at Logan.


    With an urgent hustle, Storm, guiding Professor X''s wheelchair, led the group into the Blackbird. Nightcrawler assisted the group of five nearly identical blondes. As the last foot stepped aboard, a sudden flash indicated the disappearance of Tyson and Illyana through a shimmering portal.


    Suddenly, a monstrous crash echoed throughout the valley. Turning their gazes outside, the X-Men watched in horror as the largest section of the dam split open, releasing a colossal wave of water. It thundered down into the riverbed rushing straight for them.


    Storm slid into the pilot''s seat. Her fingers danced over the controls, igniting the Blackbird''s engines; the hum of the aircraft''s machinery filled the cabin.


    "Strap in!" yelled Storm, her voice slicing through the tense atmosphere. Her eyes were wide with alarm. Her fingers moved with lightning speed, manipulating the controls to get the Blackbird airborne. The jet shuddered as it began its ascent, its powerful engines roaring to life.


    The group let out a collective sigh of relief as the jet cleared the height of the oncoming wave. Soundlessly, and without the accompanying flash, Tyson reappeared in the middle of the jet.


    Jean''s eyes widened in surprise, and Bobby let out a relieved chuckle. Jubilee, never one to mask her emotions, exclaimed, "Where’s Illyana?"


    Storm replied, "Illyana is with Tyson. It seems they won''t be joining us," her voice held a tinge of regret.


    There was a palpable pause, the occupants of the jet traded looks of confusion. Then, Tyson''s voice echoed in the cabin, although only a few could truly hear or see his illusionary form. "I''m not here. She can''t see me. I''m just an illusion." He pointed upward and continued, "The real me is actually on the roof… I''m sorry I didn''t have time to explain everything. The short version… I have a new power. We had a disagreement. I made some decisions inside the dam, decisions I can''t take back. Illyana and I can''t return to the Institute, not after what I''ve done."


    Jubilee''s eyes brimmed with tears as she cried out, her voice cracking, "What? Tyson, it can''t be that bad! Just... come back with us. We can sort it out."


    Storm, not privy to Tyson''s illusion, looked around, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What''s going on?"


    Xavier’s responded, "It seems Tyson is saying his goodbyes to his friends." The headmaster was still processing the events that had occurred and wasn’t in a state to interfere with Tyson’s benign exit.


    The atmosphere within the Blackbird was thick with emotion as Tyson began his poignant farewell. To those who could see it, the illusion of him was indistinguishable from the real thing. It captured every nuance of his expression and the weight of his feelings.


    Addressing Jubilee first, he gave her a small, wistful smile, "Sorry, Jubes," he began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "But it is that bad. Promise me you won''t stay gloomy for long, alright? I remember your gamer tag. Maybe, just maybe, I''ll get a console one day, and we’ll play together again." He winked playfully.


    Jubilee, trying to hold back her tears, let out a small snort, the corners of her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "Yeah, okay. I won’t hold my breath," she quipped. She bit her lower lip, fighting back the overwhelming wave of emotions. "Just remember, you were the newbie, and I made you feel at home. Don’t forget about us.”


    Next, Tyson’s gaze shifted to Jean. There was a depth of gratitude and respect in his eyes. "Jean," he started, his voice laden with emotion, "Your strength and fierce protectiveness have always been something to behold. Those breakfast dates? They have a special place in my heart. And I’ll never forget how your power saved me from Magneto and allowed me to protect the institute. Every time I’ve been at my best, it’s because your strength propelled me there. I hope, someday, I can find a way to repay the debt I owe you."


    Jean gave him a small, bittersweet smile. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, "Just... take care of yourself, Tyson."


    He turned to Bobby, his expression solemn. "Bobby," he began, clasping his hands together as though searching for the right words, "Thanks for taking care of everyone when I wasn''t there. I heard about your family, and I''m sorry. But things have changed now. There might be a chance to rebuild those bridges.” He paused, looking away momentarily before adding, “And I think John... he chose to join Magneto. Thought you should know.”


    Bobby''s icy blue eyes held Tyson''s for a long, charged moment. There was a silent understanding, "Thanks for the heads up," he replied.


    Tyson focused on Logan. He let his Adamantium claws extend fully from his fingertips, glinting in the soft light of the Blackbird. The sight was striking, a haunting reflection of Logan’s fearsome claws. "Guess we''re twins now, huh?" Tyson remarked with a smirk, aiming to bring some levity to the moment.


    Logan''s eyes flickered to the claws, then back to Tyson''s face, taking a moment to register the profound transformation his young friend had undergone. But as Tyson continued, his tone turned somber, echoing with gratitude, "Logan, back at that bar... you chose to give a kid who you didn’t know a chance, and it set me on this path. Crazy as it''s been, you''ve had my back from the get-go. I’m glad I was able to give you some answers about yourself and I hope it helped you find a purpose." Tyson''s voice softened, "But I know your journey isn’t done. More answers to find, and more ghosts from your past to chase. Just watch your back, alright? Stryker is still out there.” With a smirk, he said, “Ororo seems sweet on you, you should show her a little love before you go.”


    Jubilee playfully yelled, “Stop projecting!”


    Tyson quipped back, “I’m an illusion, I can’t help it.” He finished addressing Logan, “Maybe on your next birthday, I''ll pop by, and give you your yearly thrashing."


    Wolverine couldn’t help but chuckle at his audacity. His rough voice held warmth and a hint of pride, "Sure, kid. You''ve got guts, I''ll give you that. If you think you can kick my ass next year, you''re welcome to try." He took a step forward, firmly grabbed Tyson’s illusionary hand, and pulled him into a hug. "You''ve come a long way since that bar. Go find your way. Take care, kid."


    As Tyson''s illusion started to fade, the finality of his decision began to sink in. The camaraderie they shared had been disrupted, but they each hoped for reconciliation in the future.


    ~~ Rogue Replacement ~~


    Hours had passed since the dramatic events at Alkali Lake. The sky began to darken, casting long, stretching shadows on the tarmac. A sleek, black helicopter landed with a gentle thud, its rotors slowing to a halt. Dust and small debris were thrown up in whirlwinds, causing anyone nearby to shield their eyes.


    The side door of the chopper slid open, revealing the imposing figure of William Stryker. His usual steely demeanor was somewhat ruffled, hinting at the exhausting ordeal he had been through. His sharp blue eyes scanned the vicinity briefly before he descended, his polished shoes making a muted clank against the metal steps.


    There, waiting for him was a black car, its tinted windows hiding the interior. Without a second glance, Stryker got in. As he settled into the plush leather seat, an afterthought seemed to strike him. He turned slightly, addressing his silent companion who had just disembarked from the chopper. "Yuriko," he mumbled, his voice carrying the fatigue of a long day, "I''m going home. Take the rest of the week off. Go get some rest."


    Yuriko nodded with an impassive expression. The car sped off, leaving Yuriko standing alone amidst the tarmac. After a brief moment of contemplation, she made her way to a nearby hotel. She checked in with a few words. The hotel room was luxurious, but Yuriko barely noticed. She made her way to the bed. As she lay down, sleep quickly claimed her.


    The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. Yuriko stirred from her slumber, and as consciousness seeped in, the weight of realization hit her. The gnawing, relentless compulsion that had been Stryker''s grip on her mind was gone. Her chest heaved, and she felt an emotion she hadn’t felt in what seemed like eons. Pure, unadulterated joy bubbled up within her, and tears began to stream down her face. They weren''t tears of sadness but of liberation. Months of being controlled and manipulated poured out. She let herself cry, letting the tears cleanse away the remnants of Stryker''s influence.


    Eventually, the wave of emotion ebbed, and Yuriko took a shaky breath, collecting herself. She rose from the bed. Walking to the bathroom, she confronted her reflection. The sight of her tear-streaked face was both foreign and familiar. Slowly, as she took in her reflection, a wicked grin began to spread across her face.


    She was free. Free from the shackles that had bound her will to another''s whims. And with that freedom came a burning, all-consuming rage. The thought of Stryker, of the man who had controlled her for so long, ignited a fire in her heart. And all the others who hadn’t tried to help her. Hydra, Omega Red, Weapon X, and so many others.


    Revenge. It was a single word, but it promised so much. Stryker had taken everything from her, and now, she would take everything from them.


    ~~ Rogue Replacement ~~


    Overlooking the vast expanse of Alkali Lake, Tyson, and Illyana stood side by side as the day began to wane. Below them, the waters of the lake roiled and frothed, whipped into a frenzy by the collapsing dam. The sleek form of the Blackbird and its roaring engines had faded into the southern sky. Illyana''s white-blonde hair danced in the wind, her eyes traced the jet''s path, sadness evident in her gaze.


    Lost in thought, Tyson''s eyes widened suddenly. A single memory, clear as day, shot through his mind.


    Logan had gripped the hand of his illusion in a rugged handshake followed by an emotion-filled hug. But the surprising part, the connection to his illusion was accompanied by a complex tactile sensation.


    He felt the illusion as if it were his real hand, his own body.


    And Rogue’s power, his power, hadn’t triggered.


    His heart raced. "Holy shit," he breathed out, almost in disbelief.


    Illyana turned to him, her brows knitting in concern. "Tyson? What''s wrong?"


    He looked at her, his blue and green mismatching eyes alight with excitement. For a moment, his lips parted as if he were going to share the enormity of his realization. Instead, he broke into a mischievous grin and the weight of their recent challenges was momentarily forgotten. "Absolutely nothing," he replied with a chuckle, as they watched the waters of Alkali Lake surge forward.