But at last, she couldn’t deny it. She knew what she’d seen. She’d just said she wanted to go to her home. He’d of course agreed. He’d told her not to even give him her address. That as further proof, he’d just find her that night.

He’d been too late.

I’m trying to get to you. And Lily too. The agents brought us here. I don’t know where.

They just can’t keep us locked in here. They have to provide us a lawyer.

William almost laughed. She didn’t understand that the rules of the normal world didn’t apply anymore—

Hey, William. You there?

William’s eyes flew open. What was that voice?

Dude, I know you’re there.

William focused once more on Jane. I’ll find, you Jane. I’ll do everything I can.

He could see her frantic expression. William—

As he left her, he began to seek, until someone found him first.

There you are. Hello, General.

He was barely a teenager, swallowed in a La-Z-Boy recliner. In his hands were a game console, and the sounds of explosions and bullets came from a television. His hair was thick and unruly, and he wore a wrinkled Foo Fighters T-shirt and sweat pants.

So what’s going on in your side of the X-Men dorm? Your room isn’t nearly as tricked out as mine. But just make a bunch of threats, you’ll have a keg in there in no time.

You can see me?

Si, compadre. Once you opened up the communication channel, as I call it. Your room’s pretty lame.

William took a step back to steady himself. There would be no need to try and find the third of the abducted. The government already had him.

Where are we?

Somewhere in DC. The boy squirmed in his chair, leaning to the right in a desperate attempt to stay alive in whatever game he was playing. Deep DC. So far below that we can’t kill people. At least, that’s what they hope.

Who are you?

The boy cursed, slapping the console on his thigh. The sound of an electronic death came from the television. I can’t ever get past this stage. But all I got is time. So, I’m Ryan. Here’s my insta bio: thirteen, troubled youth, ability to kill. A pretty disturbing superpower, thanks to the star lords. It’s why I reside in the Taj Mahal of unwashed teenagers; they think if they keep me happy, I won’t kill people on the surface. And I have you to thank for this arrangement, I guess. And what’s the story with the hot doctor?

William scowled. You can listen in?