Marvel: Open Up, It’s the FBI

[Adam Morris Favorability: -9]

Lynn Hall's eyes lit up at the system's latest notification.

This was the first time he'd ever encountered someone with a favorability score of -9 toward him.

And with the system's mechanics, that could only mean one thing:

Killing Adam Morris would drop a very juicy reward.

Lynn glanced at the mutant, who stared back at him with undisguised hatred.

"Miss Jean Grey," Lynn said calmly, "He's all yours now."

"I want him alive."

Jean nodded. "Understood, Mr. Hall."

With that, the X-Men launched their assault.

Their fight was a symphony of spectacle and power. Adam tried to teleport multiple times but found his ability blocked again and again by Jean's telekinetic suppression. Cyclops followed with precision laser blasts, forcing Adam to stay on the move, while Storm hovered above, dark clouds gathering as bolts of lightning rained down.

Coulson, watching from a safe distance, turned to Lynn. "You know, I get why normal people are terrified of mutants. I know the X-Men are the good ones, the peace-seeking ones, but… this level of power? It's unsettling."

Another crack of thunder split the sky. Adam barely teleported out of the way, but a massive tree nearby exploded into splinters from the lightning strike.

"A second-tier mutant," Barbara muttered nearby, watching the battle closely. "If not for Mr. Hall's order to take him alive, he'd be dead already."

Coulson raised a brow, and Barbara shot him a look.

"Don't be fooled by how powerful we seem. For all our abilities, we mutants are the ones discriminated against."

Coulson gave a small, noncommittal smile—but Lynn had already tuned them out.

He stepped away from the edge of the battlefield and adjusted his grip on his SMG.

"Let me go deal with the vampires," he said coolly. "Adam Morris isn't the real problem. He's just a pawn."

He looked toward the looming estate. "The ones who funded this whole operation—the ones who put out the bounty—they're the ones I want."

---

Pushing through the blasted ruins of the estate's walls, Lynn and his team entered the manor.

Sunlight poured through the broken roof into the dark study.

And there, hanging in the shadows near the ceiling, was a giant bat—its wings twitching, its body smoking slightly in the sunlight.

"A vampire," Sean said, raising his weapon, a little unimpressed. "Really?"

"What did you expect?" Alice rolled her eyes. "You thought they'd all be seductive women in gothic dresses?"

She turned to Lynn. "Boss, what do we do with this thing?"

Lynn didn't hesitate. "Let's go with an open-air barbecue."

He pulled a special sidearm from his belt, loaded with a silver-laced net round, and fired.

THUMP—FWIP.

The net exploded mid-air, wrapping around the vampire instantly and dragging him to the ground. Sunlight hit the creature full-force, and smoke erupted from its body as it writhed in agony.

Just as Lynn stepped forward, ready to drag it outside for a lethal sunbath, the vampire opened its mouth and spoke—in a distinctly human voice.

"W-wait! Mr. Hall, please… I have something to say!"

Lynn raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, amused. "You think I've got anything to discuss with you bloodsuckers?"

Before the vampire could respond, there was a loud knock at the door.

"Mr. Hall!" a voice called urgently. "There's a call for you. They said it's urgent—you need to take it personally."

Lynn froze.

That voice wasn't panicked.

It was confident.

And that confidence made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Why would these European vampires assume a simple phone call could save them?

Where does that kind of certainty come from… unless—

Unless they were protected. By someone powerful.

Dragging the smoldering vampire into a sliver of shadow, Lynn grabbed a curtain and tossed it over the creature.

Then, he pulled out his sidearm and switched the magazine to one filled with custom silver rounds.

Just in case.

Finally, he walked to the door and opened it.

Sunlight streaked into the hallway, forcing the vampire messenger at the door to recoil instantly. He bowed deeply and extended a phone with both hands.

Lynn took it carefully, keeping his finger on the trigger.

The line clicked. A familiar voice spoke.

"Lynn. It's me."

Lynn's expression darkened.

James Duke.

The Director of the FBI's New York Division.

No surprise. Lynn's gut had already told him something was wrong.

These vampires knew his name. They expected leniency. And now, Duke was calling during a mission?

Lynn didn't reply. He simply ended the call.

Then, he pulled out his own phone and redialed.

The line rang once. Twice. Then picked up.

"Lynn," Duke said with a sigh. "Just bring the mutant in and wrap it up. Someone… made a request. One I couldn't refuse."

"There's too much going on in Europe. It's not our fight."

Lynn paused for a beat.

"Understood," he said, then hung up.

When he returned to the study, the vampire was already trying to sit up under the curtain.

"My deepest apologies, Mr. Hall," the creature rasped. "We didn't know Adam Morris would target you at the concert. That wasn't part of the plan."

He coughed, smoke still rising from his burned flesh.

"Ever since, he's been begging us to relocate him. We refused, of course. But more importantly, the Nathanael family is prepared to offer compensation. We'd be honored if you accepted."

The vampire extended a small black card—sleek, metal-plated.

Lynn didn't take it.

"It's simply a gesture," the vampire continued quickly. "Something we offer to… those who are with us. I believe Director Duke would be quite pleased if you accepted it."

Lynn's eyes narrowed.

That phrase—"with us."

It was a message.

This wasn't just about a vampire family's feud with mutant hunters.

This was bigger.

The reference to Duke… the card… the calm, confident request that he look the other way.

It all clicked.

The concert attack.

The too-convenient memorial event held by the mayor the very next day.

Duke's eerie lack of outrage at the initial incident.

They knew.

They knew the attack would happen.

They let it happen.

And now they wanted to reward him—for playing his part.

He was never supposed to investigate this far. Never supposed to see through the curtain.

All of this—the Brotherhood, the bounty, Adam Morris—was smoke and mirrors.

Their real target… was him.

They wanted him to become one of them.

To take the bait. To join the Hydra machine.

This card was their invitation.

Lynn stared down at the black card.

His lips curled into a quiet, mirthless smile.