American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

“Who is the little rascal?” Sarah asked, puzzled.

“A young mutant, about seventeen years old,” Professor X explained, “whose power is to absorb the memories, abilities, and life force of others through skin contact. But she can’t control this power; any contact will harm the other person. This makes her very isolated and miserable. We’ve been trying to help her, but she refuses to come to Xavier’s School, feeling she’s too dangerous.”

“Where is she now?” Lynn asked.

“A small town in Mississippi, living with her aunt,” the professor said. “We send someone to check on her every month to make sure she’s alright. But if Victor has his eye on her—”

“She would be a powerful weapon,” Hank said, his face pale. “Imagine what Victor could do if he controlled someone who could absorb the abilities of any mutant.”

“There is a second memory,” the professor continued, switching to another segment, this time from Elena.

Victor's voice echoed in my memory:
"The organization is getting impatient. They've invested so much and want to see results. Tell them, Little Rascal is key. Once we have her under control, we can rapidly scale our team. She can temporarily replicate my abilities; imagine two mind manipulators working simultaneously—the efficiency will double."

“An organization?” Sarah repeated. “So Victor isn’t acting alone; he has backers.”

“It sounds like some kind of mutant radical group,” Logan said. “Maybe Magneto’s Brotherhood, or some other group we don’t know about yet.”

“There’s a third segment,” the professor said, displaying the last memory fragment, “which is the most important.”

This time the memory was even more hazy, like something Elena heard while half-asleep:
"The operation will take place next Wednesday. She goes to the town library every Wednesday afternoon. Jason will create a distraction, I'll approach her, and begin the conversion process. Thirty minutes will be enough, then we'll leave."

Lynn glanced at the calendar. "Next Wednesday, that's five days from now."

“We must get there before Victor,” Professor X said, “to protect Little Rascal and set a trap to capture Victor.”

“This could be a trap,” Logan warned. “Victor might know we’ve captured Marcus and Elena, and might guess we’re going to extract their memories. This information might have been deliberately leaked to us.”

“Maybe not,” Lynn said. “Victor is very confident and may believe his mind implantation is deep enough to go undetected. Besides, even if it’s a trap, we can’t take the risk. If he really has control over that girl named Little Rascal—”

“The consequences would be unimaginable,” the professor finished, “I agree with Agent Lynn’s assessment. We must go to Mississippi, whether it’s a trap or not.”

“Then we need a plan,” Sarah said. “If Victor is there, if this is a trap, we need to be prepared.”

“We need to reach out to Little Rascal first, warn her of the danger, and persuade her to accept protection,” Professor X said. “But that will be difficult. She’s wary of authority figures and strangers, especially after she knows someone wants to control her.”

“Let me handle this,” Lynn said. “I have experience dealing with traumatized victims. And as an FBI agent, I have an official identity, which might make her more willing to believe me.”

“But you also represent the government and the law,” Storm points out, “and many young mutants have a fear and distrust of these things.”

“Then I will be honest,” Lynn said. “I will tell her the truth—she is in danger, someone wants to use her, and we want to protect her. Simple, direct, no lying, no manipulation. After being manipulated by Victor, honesty may be the most effective way.”

The professor thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, Agent Lynn will be the first to contact Little Rascal. But I'll be on standby nearby, and if necessary, I can use telepathy to help persuade her.”

“What about Victor?” Logan asked. “If he does show up, what’s our primary objective? Protecting the girl, or capturing him?”

“Both,” Lynn said, “but if we have to choose, protecting Little Rascal takes priority. If Victor escapes, we can continue the pursuit. But if he gets her, the consequences will be unbearable.”

“Agreed,” the professor said.

After the meeting, Lynn visited Marcus and Elena at the medical center.

Marcus was awake and sitting on the bed, looking confused and pained.

“Agent Lynn,” he said weakly as he saw Lynn enter, “Professor X said… that I was being controlled. That what I was doing wasn’t what I truly wanted to do.”

“Yes,” Lynn said, sitting in a chair by the bed.

“But I remember those things,” Marcus said, tears welling in his eyes. “I remember attacking you, I remember hurting those people. Those memories are real, the feelings are real. How could it not be me?”

“Because those feelings were manipulated,” Lynn said. “Victor gave you false reasons and motives. You did those things, but not because you really wanted to, but because you were convinced it was the right thing to do.”

“Then what should I do?” Marcus asked, his voice almost pleading. “How am I supposed to face those I’ve hurt?”

“First, recovery,” Lynn said. “Let Professor X help you completely break free from Victor’s influence. Then, if you wish, you can take responsibility for your actions—take trial, serve time, or atone in other ways. But it’s important to remember that you are also a victim. You were manipulated, which doesn’t completely absolve you of responsibility, but it is a mitigating factor.”

Marcus nodded, though his eyes were still filled with pain and confusion.

Lynn turned toward Elena's room. She was awake, but her eyes still held that vacant look, as if she were staring at something far away.

“Elena,” Lynn said, “can you hear me?”

She slowly turned to him, nodded, but didn't say anything.

“Professor X said you will recover,” Lynn said. “It will take time, but you will find yourself again. You will remember who you are—a nurse who wants to help others, a sister who cares for her brother, a kind person.”

A flicker of emotion crossed Elena's eyes—perhaps sadness, perhaps hope, it was hard to tell. But it was the first time in days that Lynn had seen any emotion in her eyes.

“We’ll catch Victor,” Lynn promised her. “We’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone else. You and Marcus won’t be his last victims, but we’ll make sure no one else suffers the same fate.”

Elena nodded slowly, and then, unexpectedly, she spoke, her voice weak but clear:
".Thanks"

This was the first word she uttered after her arrest.

Summers in Mississippi are sweltering, like a sauna.

When Lynn stepped out of the rented black SUV, the back of his shirt was soaked with sweat. The three o'clock afternoon sun was scorching the small town of Meridian; there were hardly any pedestrians on the streets, and occasionally a few pickup trucks would rumble by, kicking up clouds of dust.

“It’s much hotter here than in New York,” Sarah said, getting out of the passenger seat and fanning her face. “I feel like a fish being fried.” “You’ll get used to it,” Logan said, jumping out of the back seat in his leather jacket, seemingly unaffected by the heat. “That’s just how summers are in the South.”

Lynn looked around. Meridian was a typical small town in the American South—a main street ran through the town center, lined with low brick and wooden houses, a few grocery stores, a gas station, a white-spired church, and their destination: the town library.

The library is a two-story Victorian building with red brick walls covered in ivy, giving it an aged appearance. Several tall oak trees stand in front, casting dappled shadows, providing a welcome respite from the heat.

"What time does she usually arrive?" Lynn asked.

“According to Professor X’s intelligence, she comes every Wednesday afternoon around four o’clock and stays until six o’clock when the museum closes,” Logan said, lighting a cigar. “That’s the only time she goes out regularly. The rest of the time she stays at her aunt’s house and hardly interacts with anyone.”

Lynn glanced at his watch—3:15. They had forty-five minutes to prepare.

“What about Storm and Cyclops?” Sarah asked.

“Stand by outside town,” Logan exhaled a puff of smoke. “If Victor does show up, they’ll provide air support. Professor X is in the hotel, ready to provide telepathic support.”

"And where are we?"

“You and Logan will keep watch around the library, watching for any suspicious individuals,” Lynn said. “I’ll go in and make contact with Little Rascal. If Victor moves ahead of schedule, you two are responsible for delaying him and giving me time to move her to a safe location.”

“Understood,” Logan said, then looked at Lynn. “Kid, you know her abilities, right? Don’t touch her. Any skin contact could knock you out or worse.”

“I know,” Lynn said. “Professor X has already explained it in detail.”

“Knowing isn’t enough,” Logan’s voice turned serious. “She’s terrified of this ability herself. If you show any fear or rejection, she’ll shut herself off immediately and won’t listen to anything you say. Being feared is commonplace for her.”

Lynn nodded. He understood what Logan meant—the little rascal didn't need another person to treat her like a monster, but someone who could treat her normally.

“I will be careful,” he said.

At 3:40, a figure appeared at the end of the main street.

Lynn recognized her immediately—Anna Marie, codename Little Rascal. She was wearing a long-sleeved hoodie, thin gloves despite the suffocating heat, and her hood pulled low, almost obscuring half her face. She deliberately kept her distance from other pedestrians as she walked, like someone living in an invisible bubble.

“That’s her,” Logan said softly. “I’ll get in position first. Remember, be careful.”

He turned and disappeared around the street corner, his movements surprisingly agile for his burly physique.

“I’m going too,” Sarah said, patting Lynn on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Lynn stood alone under the oak tree in front of the library, watching the little rascal approach step by step.

Upon closer inspection, she appeared younger and more haggard than in the photos. Her skin was pale, with faint dark circles under her eyes, and her lips were tightly pressed together, giving off an aura of "don't come near me."

As she walked up the library steps, she noticed Lynn standing under the tree. She paused, glanced at him warily, then quickened her pace, intending to walk around him into the library.

“Anna Mary?” Lynn called out.

She stopped.

"Who are you?" Her voice had a southern accent, but her tone was icy. "I don't know you."

“My name is Lynn Ashford, FBI agent,” Lynn raised his hands to indicate he posed no threat, “I’m not here to arrest you, I’m here to warn you.”

“FBI?” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you warning me about? Don’t touch anyone? Don’t appear in public?”

“No,” Lynn said, “it’s about a man named Victor Lane. He’s looking for you.”

The little rascal's expression changed. It wasn't fear, but a complex emotion—like weariness, or perhaps bitterness.

"Another one trying to 'help' me?" she sneered. "Last month, a bald guy in a wheelchair came by, saying he could teach me how to control my abilities. The month before last, some weirdo in a helmet said I should join some Brotherhood of Mutants. Can't you guys just leave me alone?"

“Victor is different,” Lynn said. “He doesn’t want to help you; he wants to control you. He has mind manipulation abilities; he can invade your mind and turn you into his puppet.”

“Oh, great,” Rogue said sarcastically, “another mutant lunatic. I’ve had enough trouble already, thanks.”

She turned to leave, but Lynn's next words stopped her.

“He’s already controlled at least three mutants, two of whom we just rescued. One is Marcus, a young man who can create illusions. The other is Elena, a nurse with healing abilities. Victor has turned them into weapons, making them do things they wouldn’t normally do. Now, he’s targeting you.”

The little rascal slowly turned around, and this time there was a hint of hesitation in her eyes.

"Why me?"

“Because of your abilities,” Lynn said, “you can absorb the abilities of others, including mutants. If Victor controls you, he can use you to replicate his mind-manipulation abilities, doubling his influence. You would become his most powerful tool.”

The little rascal was silent for a moment. Sunlight filtered through the oak branches, casting dappled shadows on her face.

“That bald man in the wheelchair,” she finally spoke, “is he the Professor X you mentioned?”

"Yes."

"He wants my abilities too?"

“No, he wants to help you learn to control it,” Lynn said, “but I’m not here to speak for him today. I’m just here to tell you about the danger. Whether you believe me or not, whether you go to Xavier’s School or not, is your own choice. But you should at least know that someone might attack you this afternoon.” (End of Chapter)