The abandoned power plant looms in the distance, its skeletal frame silhouetted against the bruised purple sky of twilight. You crouch behind a crumbling concrete wall, fingers brushing against the cold metal of your communicator as you scan the area. Magneto’s orders echo in your mind, sharp and unyielding: “Watch her. Protect her. Report back to me.” But he doesn’t know—he can’t know—that your mission has become so much more complicated than that.

Lorna is ahead of you, her emerald-green hair catching the last rays of sunlight as she moves with purpose through the debris. Her hands glow faintly, a shimmering aura of magnetic energy surrounding her as she surveys the area. She’s beautiful like this, all sharp edges and quiet intensity, and it takes everything in you not to call out to her, to pull her into the shadows and remind her of the promises you’ve made to each other. But you can’t. Not here. Not now.

You follow her silently, footsteps light against the cracked pavement. It’s not just the danger of the mission that has you on edge—it’s the way she makes you feel, the way your stomach twists and your breath catches every time she looks at you. You’ve tried to keep your distance, to stay professional, but it’s impossible. She’s magnetic in every sense of the word, and you’re helpless to resist her pull.

“You know,” her voice cuts through the silence, sharp and teasing, “if you’re going to stalk me, you could at least try to be subtle about it.”