[center][h2][color=8882be]Zahariel Jackson[/color][/h2]
[h3]Krakoa[/h3][/center]

Zah, as his comrades often called him, dipped back into his home, located near the southern coast of the living island of Krakoa. The fact that the nation of mutants is also on an island whose ecosystem that acts as singular hivemind consciousness still hasn't escaped him. When he first came here through a portal, he remembered how Krakoa used to be a hostile entity. Alas, Krakoa allowing them to settle on its was perhaps due to the fact that the governments of the world fear mutants and those like them, and a living island certainly is in the list of entities that the ignorant and fearful baseline humans thought of as a threat.

And so, what they have here is a delicate symbiosis; Krakoa and the mutants defend one another.

Part of that defense is assessing and taking out threats, and as a member of X-Force, Zahariel had done exactly just that. Sometimes he only needed to ask nicely; sometimes, he had to gaslight them; and on a few occasions, he needed to resort to measures that he was, admittedly, not proud of. But it's not like the CIA and Dora Milaje doesn't do the same thing, don't they?

"You are home early," Grudge, his… well, talking cat, grumbled. "My food box has not been filled for six hours."

"You know you can tap the button to get yourself more, yeah?" Zah answered the talking cat. He wasn't sure why the cat even talked. Maybe it was his imagination? No, no, visitors already noted that the cat could talk. Maybe the cat was also mutated? Yeah, that's right.

"I want you to put it there," Grudge answered.

"... Why?"

"Because I want to."

Zah shook his head. Sighing, he took off his glasses and tapped the feeder, allowing it to disgorge more cat food. "Are you happy?"

"Yes," the cat answered, and began to gorge herself.

With that little incident done, Zah let himself out of the door, finding one of the few true friends he ever had, the empathic mutant Johannes Brahms, waiting at the railing.

"You called for me, Zah?" Johannes asked. "What is it?"

"The voices, they're… rather persistent," Zahariel confided. "They're annoying."

"Oh, much more than that, so it would seem," Johannes scoffed as his empathy went to work. "You're afraid, yes?"

Zah slowly nodded. "Admittedly, yeah," Zah replied, looking down towards the other buildings below. "I know that I pull power from another dimension, just like… a few others. Well, we both know that. But the voices seem to know my most personal… things. I'll have to take a break, first. I need to get this sorted."

"Excellent life choice," Johannes nodded in return. "Who are you going to?

"Someone who's familiar with things like parallel dimensions, especially seemingly malevolent ones," Zah replied. He thought for a moment, and then found his answer.

"Of course… the former Sorcerer Supreme. Doctor Strange. He'd know everything about this, hopefully…"