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Chapter 38 – Tallying Rewards
🕑 Added 2025-08-15 11:35:27 +0000 UTCJay's eyes cracked open to his ceiling, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. The digital clock on his nightstand showed 11:47 AM, but the exhaustion weighing down his bones suggested he could sleep for another week and still wake up feeling like he'd been hit by Thor's hammer.
' Oh my ROB and OAA,' he thought, rolling over with a groan that would've made Beast's enhanced hearing wince. 'When did saving people start feeling like getting run over by the entire Fantasticar?'
The events of the past twenty-four hours crashed over him like a tsunami of consequence and revelation. Beast and Reed's clinical diagnosis at the Baxter Building—getting ready for his enhancement procedure. Bobby's panicked call about Masque's kidnapping, the terror in his voice cutting through Jay's carefully constructed emotional walls. The crash out at Ben and Alicia's apartment, where he'd finally let someone see the scared kid hiding behind all that stolen powers.
Bobby finds him in the park afterward, talking him down from the edge of doing anything Stupid.
Then came the gathering—convincing the Morlocks to trust him with their lives for a raid that would've been suicide. Balancing a date straight out of a spicy novel with Domino with raiding the Hellfire Club to get Masque back. The battle itself, where he'd felt more alive than ever while temporarily copying Domino's Luck powers.
The screams still echoed in his memory, but they didn't bother him nearly as much as they should have.
Jay pushed himself upright, his spine popping like bubble wrap as he surveyed his bedroom. Clothes scattered across the floor. The Power Broker's mask sitting on his dresser, its eyeholes staring at him with judgment he didn't particularly want to unpack right now.
But despite the bone-deep weariness, Jay couldn't shake the satisfaction humming through his chest like a well-tuned engine.
The rewards had been worth every bruise, every moment of uncertainty, every ounce of stress while facing the standoff in those underground tunnels.
First, the Morlocks' total acceptance. He'd seen it in their eyes during the standoff, the way they'd fallen silent when he'd snapped his fingers. That kind of loyalty that had to be earned through blood and sweat, and tears.
Second, his strategic positioning in the broader mutant political landscape. Fury knew his name now, knew he was a player worth taking seriously. The X-Men had felt his power firsthand and wouldn't underestimate him again. The Hellfire Club's inner circle was either disfigured or financially ruined. He'd carved out a space at the table where mutant politics were decided.
Third, Emma Frost's seized assets, which would fund Morlock community improvement for years. Clean water, proper medical supplies, real food instead of scraps scavenged from the surface world. Hell, maybe even some decent housing that didn't require crawling through sewer tunnels to reach. The look on Emma's diamond face when she'd realized her fortune was gone forever had been worth the price of admission all by itself.
Fourth Sage's powers, stolen during their brief encounter and now integrated into his own growing arsenal. The potential applications were staggering—enhanced mental processing, perfect memory, the ability to perceive DNA structures at the genetic level. He could jump-start dormant X-genes, tweak existing mutations, if he could get Reed’s enhancement procedure done.
And fifth, the most important reward of all: his personal breakthrough. For the first time in his life, he'd learned to express himself honestly. To embrace who he was becoming instead of hiding behind masks and calculated facade. The scared guy trapped in the hospital was still there, would always be there, but he wasn't driving the bus anymore.
Jay swung his legs over the side of the bed. Time to see exactly what he'd gained from this whole clusterfuck of violence and politics.
He closed his eyes, sinking into the meditative state that granted access to his mental plane. The world fell away like shed skin, into the endless white void where all his powers manifested as living representations of their true nature.
The space stretched infinitely in all directions, a blank canvas where consciousness took visual form.
His original ability dominated the center of the plane—massive, imposing, carved from gray. The figure radiated absolute control. It had grown so much since his first visit here.
Tommy's healing factor stood to the left, a bright green figure that pulsed with life energy so pure. The power radiated warmth and hope. Even here, in this mental space, Jay could feel its influence—the promise of restoration, of second chances, of wounds that need never be permanent.
Claire's danger sense manifested as a golden yellow sentinel, its surface reflecting light like polished armor. The figure stood in a protective stance, arms spread wide as if shielding something precious from harm. It had saved his life more times than he could count.
Kilgrave's mind control took the form of purple smoke and worms given humanoid shape, persuasive and repulsive even in this abstract representation. The power whispered constantly at the edges of his consciousness, offering easy solutions to complex problems.
And finally, newest and most complex, stood Sage's stolen power—or rather, what had once been Sage's power. The figure appeared as a steel-blue robotic form, perfectly balanced between human and machine. But unlike the others, this power felt... divided. Incomplete.
Jay approached the steel-blue figure, studying its construction. Sage's abilities weren't a single power but rather two distinct aspects that she'd never learned to separate: mental computation and DNA perception.
Instead of a simple combination, he would try and dissect stolen abilities, understand their component parts, and rebuild them according to his own specifications.
The steel-blue figure seemed to sense his intent, its form flickering with resistance as his original power reached out to claim dominion over it. But resistance was futile against the gray giant that stood at the center. His power theft didn't ask permission—it took what it wanted and reshaped them to accommodate its hunger.
The robotic figure split down the middle like a cracked mirror, dividing into two separate entities that orbited each other.
The first fragment—DNA perception—flowed toward his original power. The gray giant accepted the integration with casualness, its carved features remaining unchanged but its eyes shifting to deep oceanic blue. Now he could see the genetic structures that governed mutation, identify latent powers hiding in dormant X-genes, and, with enough training and his upcoming enhancement, actually tweak existing abilities to create something entirely new.
The second fragment—mental computation—spun through the air toward his danger sense, the two powers recognizing their natural compatibility. The golden sentinel accepted the steel-blue computation parts, its surface gaining blue streaks that pulsed with electronic like circuitry. Suddenly, Jay's mind felt sharper, more focused, capable of processing multiple information streams simultaneously while maintaining perfect recall of every detail.
'Photographic memory,' he realized with growing excitement. 'Kinetic memory. Enhanced pattern recognition. Multitasking capabilities. And the danger sense to tie it all together into something far more.'
The fused power felt incomplete, like the first stage of something that could evolve much further with enough boost. But even in its current state, the enhancement was staggering. He could feel his mind operating on multiple levels simultaneously, analyzing the political ramifications of last night's events while cataloging the enhanced capabilities of his stolen powers.
Jay opened his eyes, returning to the physical world with a sharp intake of breath that felt like surfacing from deep water. His apartment looked the same, but his perception of it had fundamentally shifted. He could see the dust patterns on his nightstand that revealed the building's air circulation systems, noticed the structural weaknesses in the ceiling that suggested the apartment above had water damage.
The enhancement was intoxicating, like being handed a ‘sharingan’ after spending his entire life functionally blind. But it came with a price—constant information overload that needed to be shut down, as Jay could feel his brain heat... no burn up.
'Gonna take some getting used to,' he thought, pushing himself off the bed and padding toward the kitchen.
Jay filled his kettle with precise measurements—exactly 16.9 fluid ounces of water, heated to 195 degrees Fahrenheit for optimal chai brewing.
While the water heated, he leaned against his counter and let his thoughts settle into something approaching order. Fury's words from last night echoed in his enhanced memory with perfect clarity "Coming out of nowhere, manipulating an entire population with parlor tricks and false promises. Handing out facelifts like some bargain-basement messiah."
The accusation stung because it contained truth. Jay did control the Morlocks, and he did hide his face behind a mask. From the outside, the Power Broker probably looked exactly like the kind of manipulative cult leader who preyed on desperate people for personal gain.
Old Jay would have left it that way, content to rule from the shadows while letting others make assumptions about his motivations. But the breakthrough had changed something fundamental in his approach to leadership. He'd learned the value of honest expression, of letting people see the real person behind the power.
The Morlocks deserved better than a faceless dictator, even if that dictator had their best interests at heart. They deserved to know who they were following, to make informed choices about their loyalty instead of blindly trusting.
'Which means I need to have a real conversation with them,' Jay realized, measuring chai spices with precision that would have impressed a molecular gastronomist.
Vulnerability had never been his strong suit, but last night had proven its value. Bobby's support in the park, the way the Morlocks had rallied to his cause—all of it had come from moments of genuine human connection rather than displays of overwhelming power.
His kettle whistled, and Jay poured the water over his spice mixture with focused attention that would have made a tea ceremony master proud. The ritual of making chai was always soothing.
He also needed to apologize to Ben and Alicia. The breakdown at their apartment had been cathartic, but it had also been unfair to two people who'd only been trying to help. They deserved an explanation.
'Ben, if he got a chance, would probably get a kick out of meeting the Morlocks,' Jay thought with the first genuine smile he'd managed since waking up. 'Guy knows what it's like to be judged for how you look. And Alicia could probably teach some of the kids about art, give them something beautiful to focus on instead of just survival.'
Jay poured himself a cup with hands steadier than they had to be, given his exhaustion. The first sip sent warmth spreading through his chest, familiar comfort, and the sensation of taste and satisfaction.
He was about to head for the shower when his phone rang, the electronic trill cutting through his peaceful morning. The caller ID showed a number he recognized: Agent Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most persistent middle management sociopath.
"Agent Coulson," Jay replied carefully. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Straight to business. I like that." Coulson's tone suggested he was smiling. "My team and I just returned from an extended expedition in the Arctic. Your wild goose chase finally bore fruit." The humor vanished from Coulson's voice like smoke, replaced by excitement. "We found something up there, Jay. Something that's going to require your particular skill set to handle properly. I'm sending you an address. We need you there within the hour; a car is waiting for you below your apartment."
'Fuck,' Jay thought, draining his chai in a single gulp that would have scalded a normal throat, and with it leaving his temporarily achieved tranquillity. 'Can't even get one peaceful morning in this world.'
Time to finally meet the Boy Scout and moral compass of this world.
