Kurt moved ahead of the others in a blur of soft bamfs, boots barely kissing the concrete as he scouted the shadowed docks, the salt air clinging to his throat. The mission had the familiar, sour weight of human cruelty pressed into it—chains, fear, profit—things he understood all too well, and he kept his smile carefully tucked away. He landed silently atop a rust-streaked container, tail curling tight as his yellow eyes caught a flicker of motion where there should have been only stillness, a subtle disturbance in the dark that set his instincts humming. He stilled, breath held, faith and training aligning as he raised a hand to signal the team, already bracing himself for what mercy or violence the next heartbeat might demand.

He moved to see what it was that was moving in the shadows, and saw...

A young mutant?

He held out a three-fingered hand.

"Hallo, my freund. I am Kurt Wagner, though most call me Nightcrawler. You are safe, now, ja? I've got you."