The safe haven had become a rhythm of resilience—stone walls humming with Iron Man's tech, Steve-crafted tools shaping their days, and Lily's fire warming their nights. Bill woke at dawn on April 4, 2025, the arc reactor's soft glow a constant in their bunker. Clara was already up, tending her garden, while Lily slept, her glow dim under a wool blanket Bill had crafted. The comics' shadows—Apocalypse, Phoenix—lingered in his mind, but routine had dulled their edge. Until today.Bill stepped into the workshop, Steve template active, crafting a new fishing net from vines and Sentinel wire. Iron Man's HUD flickered on, scanning for perimeter breaches—routine, until a radio crackled to life, Beast's voice cutting through static. "Bill, turn on the news. Now."He switched to a salvaged TV, Clara and Lily joining him as a broadcast flared up. A stern anchor spoke: "Reports confirm a mutant antidote—developed by Trask Industries—has entered testing. Sources claim it suppresses the X-gene, rendering mutants powerless. Anti-mutant groups hail it as a 'cure,' while protests erupt globally."Bill's stomach sank, comics memories flashing—House of M, mutants stripped of powers, hunted. "They're coming for us," he muttered.Lily's glow flared. "Dad, they can't take my fire, right?"Clara gripped his arm. "Bill, what does this mean?""It means they're scared," he said, voice hard. "And scared people get dangerous. We're not losing who we are."Before he could plan, the ground shook—Wolverine's senses snapped on, catching a metallic tang and human sweat. The HUD blared: Multiple hostiles detected. Bill rushed outside, templates shifting—Iron Man's armor half-formed, Steve's pickaxe in hand. Clara and Lily followed, fire sparking in Lily's palms.From the woods emerged mutants—eyes blank, movements stiff. A telekinetic hurled rocks, a speedster blurred forward, and a hulking brute charged. Bill recognized the signs from comics—mind control, like Sinister's pawns or the Shadow King's thralls. "Controlled mutants," he growled. "Someone's pulling strings."The system chimed:
"Host emotional state: Defensive. Templates active: Iron Man, Steve. Threat assessment: High."Bill blasted the telekinetic with repulsors, then swung Steve's pickaxe, mining a dirt wall to block the speedster. "Lily, moat—now!" Her fire surged, igniting the trench, slowing the brute. Clara grabbed a Steve-crafted spear, jabbing at the speedster as he stumbled."Who's doing this?" Clara shouted, dodging a rock."Trask, maybe," Bill said, comics knowledge racing—Sentinels, Prime Sentinels, mutant experiments. "Testing the antidote—or us." He switched to Steve, crafting TNT from debris, Iron Man's HUD guiding its arc. The explosion scattered the attackers, but more emerged—ten, then twelve—each eerily silent.Lily's fire lashed out, singeing a telekinetic, but a speedster grabbed her. Bill's rage spiked—Hulk threatened to surface, but he focused, Iron Man's repulsors blasting the speedster off. Steve's crafting built a cage around Lily, shielding her. "Stay in there, kiddo!"Clara speared another, her ferocity stunning Bill. "We're not losing this place!"The controlled mutants pressed harder, a telekinetic ripping at the haven's walls. Bill combined templates—Steve mined stone, Iron Man fused it into a barrier, sealing the breach. He flew up, repulsors raining precision strikes, comics' tactics guiding him—Avengers vs. X-Men, teamwork under siege. Lily's fire joined, melting a brute's armor, while Clara's spear pinned a speedster.Then, a voice boomed—amplified, cold. "Surrender, mutants. The antidote awaits." A figure in a Trask Industries coat stood beyond the trees, flanked by drones—Prime Sentinels, Bill realized, comics' nightmares made real."No chance," Bill roared, Steve crafting a bow, Iron Man's tech enhancing its range. He fired, arrows exploding on impact, scattering drones. The figure retreated, but the controlled mutants fought on, relentless.Bill's family rallied—Lily's fire, Clara's spear, his templates weaving defense and offense. Hours bled into exhaustion, but they held, the last mutant collapsing as dawn broke. The haven stood, battered but intact, moat flames flickering low.Inside, Bill slumped, armor retracting, pixelation fading. Clara bandaged his arm, Lily curled against him. "They'll be back," he said, comics' warnings—Operation: Zero Tolerance—ringing true. "The antidote… it's a weapon.""We'll fight it," Clara said, fierce. "Together."Lily nodded, glow steady. "I'm not giving up my fire."The system hummed:
"Host emotional state: Resolute. Templates utilized: Iron Man, Steve. Objective updated: Counter antidote threat, protect family."Bill looked at them, his haven's heart. The antidote news and controlled mutants had shattered their peace, but not their will. Trask, Magneto, whoever came next—he'd use every template, every memory, to keep this life intact.