Outside the gates of the Xavier estate.
A sleek black sedan slowly rolled out, turned onto a side road, and then merged into the main thoroughfare.
It quickly blended into the steady stream of traffic, drawing no attention from passersby.
"Raven, where exactly are we going?"
In the passenger seat, Alex glanced at the middle-aged man behind the wheel and asked casually.
"To find someone," Raven replied, her tone offhand as she expertly maneuvered the car like a seasoned driver. "If he's willing to help, we might be able to pinpoint Shaw's location."
That caught Alex off guard—Raven sounded confident, mysterious someone wielded considerable influence.
Still, Sebastian Shaw wasn't a nobody either.
The Hellfire Club was far more than just a mutant organization. It had powerful human members as well—elites with real clout in the upper echelons of society.
For example, Howard Stark had once received an invitation to join the Hellfire Club.
How else could Shaw have manipulated the political landscape of both the U.S. and the Soviet Union, even orchestrating the Cuban Missile Crisis?
Pulling strings like that wasn't something mutants could accomplish on their own.
The fact that Shaw had managed to uncover the CIA's secret mutant base was proof enough of the reach of his network.
So, Alex remained skeptical of this "someone" Raven was talking about.
"Who exactly are we meeting? Can we really trust him?" Alex pressed. This was something he needed to be clear on.
"Relax. He's one of us," Raven replied, switching lanes smoothly. "He can sense others like us."
He can sense mutants?
Alex blinked. A name flashed through his mind.
"You're talking about Caliban, aren't you?"
Only one mutant came to mind with an ability like that.
"You know him too?" Raven looked genuinely surprised.
"Not really. I just happened to hear about him once," Alex said with a shake of his head. Still, a sense of relief settled in his chest.
If Caliban could track other mutants like Raven claimed, then finding Shaw would be much easier. They'd know right away whether Shaw had discovered their hideout or not.
"He's that well-known?" Raven muttered, a little surprised but not overly concerned. It made sense—Alex moved in similar circles. It wasn't odd for him to have heard of other mutants.
"Raven, if you know Caliban, then Charles probably knows him too, right?" Alex asked after a moment. "So why hasn't Charles mentioned him while recruiting mutants all this time?"
It was a valid question. If Caliban lived this close, Charles should've at least approached him.
"It's because Charles knows him that he never tried," Raven said. "That guy doesn't trust anyone. He's all about money and stays guarded all the time. You'll understand when you meet him."
She kept her explanation brief, and Alex didn't press further.
As far as he remembered, Caliban only made a brief appearance in X-Men: Apocalypse, and even then, his ability had a range limit—something like twenty-five miles.
Not exactly a central figure.
So, Alex didn't dwell on it.
After crossing four main roads, Raven finally pulled the car up outside a bar.
"When I was little—before I met Charles—I relied on my powers to survive. I'd change into different people, sneak into places, steal what I needed."
"Money, food, clothes… whatever I could get. Even then, I went hungry more often than not. Sometimes I had no choice but to sleep in the sewers."
"I met Caliban in one of those sewers. But even then, he never trusted me."
As they walked toward the bar's entrance, Raven recounted her past in a quiet voice.
"How tragic," Alex said sincerely. It was hard to tell if he meant her, or Caliban.
"That's why, when we see Caliban, let me do the talking, alright?" Mystique looked at him seriously.
Alex had no objections. He knew who was taking the lead on this mission, and he wasn't here to interfere.
His own goal had been simple from the start—just tag along and see if any system mission would trigger. That was it.
The two of them reached an understanding without another word.
They stepped into the bar.
The place was lively. Groups of patrons sat scattered throughout, laughing and chatting over their drinks.
Alex and Raven walked straight up to the bar, ignoring the crowd.
A man sat slouched over the counter, nursing his drink, barely engaged.
Behind the bar stood a young man—maybe thirty—clean-cut and sharply dressed, with a professional smile as he greeted them.
"What can I get you two?"
"Where's Henry?" Raven frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly.
This wasn't the bartender she knew. She wasn't sure if this guy was even in the loop about Caliban.
"You must be a regular." The bartender smiled. "Henry's my uncle. He's sick, so I'm covering for him for a few days."
"Is he alright?" Raven asked, concerned.
"Hope so. Poor guy tweaked his back. Keeps saying it's nothing serious, but you know how it is—he's not as young as I am anymore," the young man said with a shrug and a chuckle.
"Poor Henry. God bless him." After a few pleasantries, Raven got straight to the point. "Is he here?"
The bartender blinked, clearly confused.
A booming voice came from a doorway behind the bar. A burly man had stepped out, addressing the bartender.
Clearly, Caliban already knew Raven had arrived.
She simply nodded to the bartender and motioned for Alex to follow her through the back.
The bartender didn't stop them.
"Another whiskey," the man at the bar said, raising his empty glass to the bartender.
As Alex turned to leave, his eyes instinctively drifted toward the man.
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