[Life is Good] Chapter 22

Elizabeth. Lieutenant of Police. Mama-Betty.

Today, there was a change of leadership at the station. Mrs. Gordon retired to her well-earned pension, and former Lieutenant—now Captain—Julia Stacy took her place. The station buzzed with speculation about Betty's reaction. Some had even bet she’d take the promotion herself. Instead, Betty greeted the news with complete indifference.

Elizabeth treated her police work with a calm practicality. It wasn’t that she wasn’t good at her job—her performance was impeccable—but a career in law enforcement wasn’t exactly at the top of her priorities. Lately, her mind had been entirely consumed by her family.

And there she was now, puffing away on her second cigarette on the station steps, lost in thought.

Family... She didn’t even realize when her assignment turned into a life. A happy life with her family—her dear, sweet, wonderful Judy, little Toby, and her sunshine, Guinever. For a time, she’d allowed herself to hope that things could stay like this forever. That Judy would always be her beloved woman… Sure, they had their quarrels, but those were nothing compared to the ‘parenting lessons’ she, as an orphan, had absorbed from her mentor. Tobias would remain the brilliant boy he was, and Gigi… her baby girl. Her flesh and blood. Her reward for a lifetime of service.

God, she’d truly believed that Gigi was her reward. A reward for loyalty, for devotion, for the success of her mentor’s plans.

Blind, foolish faith. False hope. A mistake that couldn’t be undone. She had become too much of a mother. Loved too deeply. And Betty had realized it far too late. At that moment, when evacuation plans were being discussed. When her Mentor mentioned the "fastest" option… Betty's role in her Mistress’s plans was to raise the heir. That role had been rewritten the day the ultrasound revealed a boy. Her Mistress had adjusted the plan accordingly.

The old aristocrat, with all her quirks, had a few immutable principles. Chief among them: an obsession with preserving the family line. The great bloodline must not end. A boy, after all, was an excellent source of genetic material. Finding a suitable woman to bear the next heir was ten times easier than finding a man with excellent lineage.

And so, Betty became not the tutor of an heiress but the caretaker of the family’s male heir. At first, she was a bit disappointed—had the original plan succeeded, her status as mentor to the future head would have secured her an enviable position. But then... Toby. A miraculous boy. Calm, affectionate, kind, and smart. Despite Judy's doting and protectiveness, he wasn’t spoiled, demanding, or bratty—he was obedient and gentle. Men like that were rare. And over time, her role became her life.

She truly fell in love with Judy, genuinely bonded with the boy, and when little Gigi was born... Betty started thinking that she didn’t need any titles or gratitude from one of the Organization’s future leaders. She was already happy.

According to her Mistress’s plan, Tobias was supposed to live a long and happy life—he was her nephew, after all, and blood demanded it. He would also provide a genetic reservoir for the bloodline as an insurance policy. But then, strange things began to happen. Someone dosed the child with a cocktail to dampen critical thinking and boost impulsiveness. Mercenary observers were discovered. Her son’s mutant abilities manifested. He was kidnapped and later rescued. The boy spent months hidden by mutants. Then came Stryker’s raid on the school, the mass abduction of children... and their rescue by mutant forces.

Everything changed after that. Judy, ever since Tobias left, cried often and worried endlessly. Gigi missed her brother and seethed at the “bandits” hunting him. And Betty... Betty prayed that her boy—her son—was all right. Not just because she loved him but because his death would mean Judy’s death as well.

Her Mentor would not keep a “useful tool” like Betty idle. A new candidate would be found for the role of the heir’s mother, and the plan would revert to its original form—only this time, the genetic material would come from Tobias. Could she even continue living and serving under those circumstances?

The "Deceased" Mr. Joseph Black. His Office.

The man leaned back in his chair, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. He had just finished reviewing the reports and was, to put it mildly, astounded. Not that the events were unwelcome—far from it. But as the saying goes, if everything seems fine, you’ve likely missed something.

First, the audacious kidnapping of mutants from Xavier’s school by Colonel Stryker and their subsequent rescue. SHIELD had always seen the X-Men as both a potential security threat and an untapped reservoir of valuable assets. Recent events had amplified both their threat level and their potential usefulness. Orders needed to be issued to ramp up recruitment efforts. No, recruitment was already happening, but now it would be easier.

Second, the abrupt shift in government attitudes toward mutants. Once labeled monsters and freaks, they were now being rebranded as oppressed, undeserving victims. Which, frankly, wasn’t far from the truth in most cases. The higher-ups had pounced on the situation with remarkable speed. The day after the base’s destruction, the Secretary of Defense had “committed suicide,” and Pierce had taken her place. And then the deluge began. Mutants, it turned out, had been saved by the military. Stryker was painted as a madwoman. The media, well-prepared and coordinated, poured syrupy tales of mutant plight into the public’s ears.

A long-planned narrative shift was evident... and he hadn’t been in the loop. That was troubling.

And finally, Tobias. Damn, that kid was unkillable. The footage his people had obtained revealed a boy with enormous potential as a front-line operative. Not just because of his abilities but because of his mental resilience. Nine out of ten grown men couldn’t have done what that child had. Killing is never easy, but to kill as he did? Unbelievable. Fury could’ve done it, Romanoff too—but that boy? Strong. Impressive.

The idea of recruiting him into SHIELD no longer seemed absurd.

Though that didn’t make Sophie’s punch to his jaw any less painful when they met.

Tobias... survived and gained enough power to protect himself. The big, wide world is undeniably riskier for him than for the average man, but then again, Penelope is also planning to work in places where risk is simply part of the job description. Interfering further… well, that would mean not only earning more problems with his wives but potentially alienating his own daughter. So for now, "Joseph" will continue to rest in peace, and the unfolding events will determine what needs to be done next. Recruit Tobias into SHIELD, or simply let things play out? Most importantly, he had to ensure the children never suspected his involvement in some of the young man's... complications.

Yuriko Oyama. Lady Deathstrike.

Yuriko watched him—this young man. No, she couldn’t call him a “boy.” That day… would remain significant. It’s significant now and would be for the rest of her life. Not just because she had been freed from slavery—though servitude was nothing new to her. Service without consent had been her way of life. From the start, her mother… and then all the way to Colonel Stryker. The late Colonel Stryker.

It was impossible for anyone else to understand, but for her… Yuriko had witnessed something that was nothing short of breathtaking. She had seen Onryo—the vengeful spirit of Japanese legend—come to claim a life. A manifestation of vengeance. Retribution. Execution.

She had seen it with her own eyes. She had felt goosebumps race across her skin as the boy hissed, "There will be no trial. No investigation. Only punishment." It had stolen her breath. The hatred pouring out of him was nearly tangible, like a fog you could touch. Just a little more, and she swore you could see droplets of corroding vengeance falling from his fingers.

A mutant, yes, but to incinerate an enemy with so much genuine pleasure—you couldn’t just be a mutant. You had to be a killer. Watching his face change, seeing rage and fury melt into a triumphant grin—the exultation of tasting the sweet nectar of revenge—it was the ultimate peak of indulgence. The joy of truly knowing a man, the high of drugs, the intoxication of alcohol—it all paled in comparison to murder, raw and fervent.

Yuriko had never been "normal," no. Joy and satisfaction weren’t foreign concepts to her life, but this… this was an entirely different flavor of ecstasy. And she wasn’t normal—how could she be, when her entire upbringing had sculpted her into a weapon? To be a blade, a dagger, a poison. To be the Deathstrike of her Mistress's enemies…

That day, she had scorned him for his initial desire to leave that pig alive for "a trial." Burning her tongue—fine. She’d laughed inwardly as the boy maneuvered to strip Stryker of power. Clever. But leaving the colonel alive? That was absurd. Weak and foolish child. As soon as her restraints fell and her regeneration patched her up, Yuriko had fully intended to kill the bloated swine herself. And the boy? She didn’t lack gratitude—she had planned to help him.

But his subsequent actions… they enthralled her. He burned her mind with delight. There was a trial, a prosecutor, a sentence. And he was all of them. The judge, the jury, and the executioner. The sneaky brat had outwitted both Stryker and her.

And she loved it: clever, efficient, and inspiring. Only one question remained—what had motivated him? That was important. Psychos disgusted Yuriko—her kind of psycho, anyway. She needed to understand why this boy burned with such emotion. And finding out became a small goal. No need to interrogate—why bother, when the truth would spill out eventually? You just had to wait.

And so she waited—staying close, listening. The reason didn’t impress her much. She was even slightly disappointed. A little torture and the death of a girl—was that what ignited Tobias’s fury? How... pedestrian. Sure, avenging your own was the right thing to do, but it was so bland.

Yuriko had seen it all in her life. Vengeance for violated honor, for slaughtered family, for damage to reputation or financial loss... Tobias had left a mark, impressed her more than not. He’d given her pleasure through his rage and the way he executed Stryker. He’d returned her freedom, obliterated the power structure holding her captive. The boy had done a lot of good for her, and Yuriko wasn’t one to forget a debt, at least in her own eyes. That’s why she decided to stay close to this young Onryo—to watch over him. Until the debt was settled.

Charlene Xavier and Erika Lehnsherr. Mutant School, Xavier’s Office.

The two old friends, sometimes allies and occasional adversaries, sat drinking tea and talking. Student safety, strange media behavior, the fallout of the kidnapping and subsequent rescue of the children, and Tobias’s blazing—figuratively and literally—debut. There was no shortage of topics, and even more tasks to handle.

"Fine, Erika," Charlene agreed easily to her friend’s proposal. "Next time, if more than half the staff are leaving the school, we’ll inform the Sisterhood. You can send people to reinforce security while the adults are away. But please, make sure they’re mutants who can at least somewhat get along with the kids. And specifically about Logan… if there’s a choice, don’t send Victoria. They’re like a cat and dog, and unsupervised, they’ll inevitably start a brawl."

"Deal," Magneto smirked. "Not like I enjoy cleaning her head up after another mess. Speaking of messes—how are the kids handling… all of this?"

"Varies. Some are better, some worse. I worked with them a bit." Seeing Erika raise an eyebrow, Charlene elaborated: "Softened the memories a little, dampened the intensity of the emotions. I didn’t erase anything—the kids still remember it all, but they see it as something that happened a long time ago." She hesitated. "Even experiences like this are valuable. The world is full of dangers, and the kids need to perceive it realistically. The only one I couldn’t work with, due to the nature of his gift, was Tobias. And he suffered the most serious moral and psychological wounds. The boy doesn’t realize it yet, but in time, the understanding of what happened might hit him very hard. Unfortunately, I can only help him as a psychologist. I’m afraid that might not be enough."

“He’s a good kid… but damn, did he surprise me this time. Honestly, I’d love to give him a good spanking for it. Don’t look at me like that, Charlene,” Erika said, shaking her head with a frustrated sigh. “What he did was stupid—so stupid. He’s still a child, and children shouldn’t be killing or fighting. That’s our job. Mine, the Sisterhood’s—that’s the whole reason we came together in the first place: to protect mutants. The boy just needed to wait instead of risking his neck out there. He always seemed so level-headed, but this? Ugh, what’s done is done.

“And let’s face it—we botched the whole protection thing. That’s the only reason his ass is safe from a proper scolding. His screw-up was the result of our screw-up. And then there’s the fact he didn’t let Stryker get away and finished her off. Honestly, I don’t even know how to feel about that. Oh, and he saved that mutant woman. Speaking of her, what can you tell me about her?”

“A mutant with regenerative abilities,” Charlene replied. “Strong, skilled, experienced… and a little unhinged. I couldn’t dig too deeply—she’s not Deadpool-level crazy, but you know how difficult I find dealing with unstable minds. All I can say is that she doesn’t seem to mean any harm—to us or to the boy. She considers herself in his debt and has decided to stick around until she feels it’s paid. Oh, and she was apparently very impressed by his… execution of the colonel.”

Erika grimaced. “She’s staying here for now. We had a talk, and I don’t see any real reason to deny her that,” Charlene added.

“About that stunt with the news,” Erika said skeptically. “I don’t buy it, and you shouldn’t either. That complex was government-owned. No way they ‘didn’t know’ about it—not with the kind of budget they were pouring into it. And they were pouring money into it, Charlene. Operations like that eat up massive funds. Stryker was sacrificed—it’s easier to throw a dead scapegoat under the bus. If she’d managed to escape, she’d just set up shop somewhere else and continue her work. Instead, some other poor bastard would’ve ‘committed suicide’ while taking the fall for horrific crimes.”

“I know,” Charlene nodded. “The results of her work survived no matter what. No one puts all their eggs in one basket—there are backups, reports, other scientists. All of that remains intact. And this supposed ‘change of direction’? It’s a PR move. The research will continue, just with a softer approach, maybe even under the guise of voluntary participation. If they’re truly pushing for mutant integration into society, the next step will be recruiting mutants as employees in various organizations. And from there, it’s all tests, analysis… you get the picture. These ‘criminal’ facilities aren’t going anywhere; they’ll just get buried deeper. We need to stay vigilant and monitor the situation. I want to believe things will get better, but my hope can’t come at the expense of our charges’ safety.”

The women sighed in unison. Change was always stressful, but all they could do was hope these changes were for the better.