"Fuck, Jeanie."

The next words that broke the silence rumbled forth from rural Canadian tones of the Wolverine, Logan watching Bailey with palpable regret. He wasn't like some of the mutants, who would no doubt consider what Jean had done in the throes of godhood as some practically divine blessing on the man. He saw the hurt first of all, the very real emotional hurt of his changed life, for him and his family. Would they even be [i]his[/i] family anymore after this? With the death of Xavier's first dream the situation had changed, mutants and humans pulling apart from the idea of co-habitation. His brief moment of friendship with Summers interrupted by the magnitude of the unknowing injustice done to this man who had just been doing his job.

This really was a fucking mess.

It didn't take long for the loudest voice present to vocalise that.

"That is some real absolute horseshit." It was actually unusual for Stark to be so directly crass, the mechanical voice of the Iron Man adding a particularly surreal element to the blunt terminology. Servos wined within the suit, doing anyone knows what, but surely to prepare for whatever might be immediately thrown the way of the accusing Avenger, watching those assembled. "You do understand how that looks? We're all obviously here to make sure Miss New England isn't about to become the new fiery Queen of the World and melt us all in our beds, and the first thing that happens when she walks out of the Light is you point at a man who fetched your buddy and say he's yours now?" There was a certain incredulity to Tony's tone which suggested he really was shocked, and not simply announcing what he considered to be the latest overstep from the Mutants. It was a concern that certainly bled from the other humans assembled as well, they just perhaps weren't so keen on voicing it at that exact moment.

"She'd turn him back if she could." Logan rumbled, his voice still aching with hurt for the man he had barely known. For a suit he hadn't been so bad, and he thought the man likely believed in the best aspects of his role. It wasn't a particularly useful contribution, but the absolute lack of politics in it gave even Stark pause, his attention turning to Wolverine for the moment. He might have been a mutant and fought alongside the others, but he had also been an Avenger, and many of those assembled knew that Logan had some of the same misgivings they had about the mission Summers and Frost stuck so closely to.

"Be that as it may, it's his decision no? Or is Krakoa the new North Korea?" The beat was barely missed before Tony spoke again, albeit with somewhat less volume, as if he was directing the his words to Logan alone. He had personally been involved in breaking up many of North Korean repatriation rings, which amounted to barely more, and often far worse, than the wider scourge of human trafficking which had plagued the modern world. 

"Should be." Logan simply rumbled in response, with a nod, approaching Bailey, but not quite closing the distance, instead turning on spot, putting himself between the man and both the other mutants and the human representatives. It was a misconception that Logan didn't care for people, his isolation had always been because he valued the unit more than the whole. Already the others viewd the man as a chit, a commodity to fight over, grand principles to address, but all he saw was a man who's world was crumbling, and who needed allies, not an overlord.

The moment of tension hung in the air, and only seemed to worsen.

When Bailey behind him frowned in concern, trying to fight through some interference, that was when Logan realised it wasn't just his heightened perceptions for the moods of others, the air really was building with tension. To Logan it was already some physical, a whine building in the air, the others reacting moments behind. Then reality tore itself apart.

A searing mote of light erupted in the air some distance from the group, a blazing infinitely small point that hurt to gaze upon, existing only for a moment before it spread outwards, consuming the view of the school grounds behind it. What once had been light, darkened, a skein of darkness which bled into the world, sweeping outwards until it was twice the height of a man in both directions, the pool of darkness spotted with flashes of dark green. In an instant the source was recognisable, even before the figure strode forth from within to confirm.

[color=008000]"Speak now."[/color] Where the voice from Tony's suit was entirely artificial, modified to sound like his own, the metallic grind of this voice was inflicted by the echo alone, the voice within the metal shell of true human origin, strained nightmarishly by the death mask of its wearer. [color=008000]"Explain now, to Doom, why the mutant witch still breathes."[/color] The cosmic darkness behind the armoured form of Doctor Doom flashed once more, before disappearing, as his withering gaze spurned all but the slender form of Jean Grey, a gaze that bore only contempt and hatred.