「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

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Lynn's POV

With Storm and Jubilee on rotational duties piloting our jet, the remaining of the adults settled themselves comfortably into their seats, chatting away leisurely. Although there was still an inherent seriousness to the ambience, they had certainly learnt the advantages a casual mood promoted in battle.

They joked around randomly, consciously installing warmth and pleasure into the atmosphere. Their genuine laughters were uplifting, creating a soothing environment conducive to prepare their minds and bodies for the inevitably demanding performance required of them later. Even Raven, perhaps the most perturbed of us all, relished in a dose of humour to reinvigorate her spirits.

Very much on the contrary—though falling exactly within the boundaries of expectations—the kids were upset and jittery, just like every other on their rudimentary mission.

Practically outraged, they stared at their teachers with disgusted gazes, severely boggled by their seeming indifference, but not one dared to speak of the protest blatantly parading their faces.

Once the plane levelled, I carefully unbuckled myself and merely acknowledging with subtle nods, the veterans quickly resumed their trivial discussions, as I discreetly proceeded towards the back.

Despite retaining its modest and slender physique for aerodynamic reasons, our updated aircraft could still be subdivided into several sections.

Just behind the sophisticated cockpit, designed to accommodate two, were six permanent seats surrounding a narrow multipurpose desk commonly utilized during briefings. The interior was more bare towards the rear, with both sides of the walls lined by flip down seats and simple overhanging shelves storing emergency equipment.

Obviously apprehensive to occupy the last empty seat in the front, all the youngsters strapped themselves nearer to the tail where a humongous cloud of gloom hovered over their heads. As I jostled past the backs of Raven and Kurt, their nervous gaze tracked me intently, pausing together with my steps when I halted by the edge of the table.

Situated at the diagonal end from my original spot, with a space between him and Peter, Logan sat with heavy breaths, clutching his polished whiskey canister dearly. Regrettably, no amount of training or simulation was sufficient to curb or even remedy the debilitating discomposure he invariably suffered with every flight experience.

"Try not to get too drunk before we land," I appealed, flashing Logan a teasing smirk, as I gently rested my weaker palm on his shoulder.

"I'll probably throw up anyway," Logan grumbled, bitterly flushing another mouthful of scotch down his gut.

"Storm will take care of the turbulence. Not to worry," I consoled sincerely but he just scoffed, patronising me with a fake grin.

Simply chuckling, I spun around, only to be welcomed by an array of troubled teens. I gave them a kind smile and collectedly sauntered over, passing through the aperture bordered by a pair of thick columns.

Apart from housing the supporting pillars that were forged to strengthen the integrity of the cabin, each bulky beam actually boasted concealed cabinets containing quintessential first aid materials and the latent partition was additionally adorned with velvet drapes that I swiftly drew, further segregating the uptight ones from the antagonising sight of their seasoned seniors.

Slowly, I took the vacant seat around them and duly enlightened them of our current circumstances. With commendable patience, they listened, gradually succumbing to the greater realisation.

Their faces had been a palette of emotions—terrified by the enormity of Erik's vengeance; astonished by Hank's brutal abduction; perturbed by their beloved Professor's disappearance; bewildered by my atypical transformation; and unconvinced of their mentors' unconcerned behaviour.