Marvel: Open Up, It’s the FBI

Manhattan – Columbia University

Lynn Hall sat behind the wheel of his black Chevrolet, parked just outside Columbia's main entrance. One arm rested casually on the window as he silently observed the campus buzz—students coming and going with the ease of those who didn't carry the weight of the world on their backs.

Then, he saw him.

A slim young man with hunched shoulders and a downward gaze emerged from the main hall. Every part of his posture screamed: Don't notice me. He walked like someone used to fading into the background.

Lynn watched him carefully.

He had the file memorized. The young man's name was Dennis Johnson. His behavior matched what the reports had detailed—socially withdrawn, burdened by deep-seated insecurity. And no surprise: he was a mutant. Living in constant fear of being found out, of being rejected, of being hunted.

Lynn sighed and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. Then he tapped the horn.

The sudden beep made Dennis jump. He looked up with wide, wary eyes at the black car, then instinctively stepped back. Flight reflex.

Like a cornered animal.

Lynn extended an arm through the window and waved him over.

What a surprise, Lynn thought. Kelly's son—the most capable clinical psychologist in the FBI—had a son this skittish?

Dennis scanned his surroundings for threats. After a long moment of hesitation, he cautiously approached the car.

"Excuse me, sir… do you need something?" he asked, his voice quiet but respectful.

"Dennis Johnson," Lynn said. "You're Kelly Johnson's son, right? Same last name?"

"Yes, sir. Do you… know my mother?"

Hearing his name spoken so casually made Dennis flinch. He tensed again, unsure whether to stay or bolt.

"I'm Lynn Hall," Lynn replied calmly. "Your mother works with me at the FBI. She should've told you someone would be reaching out about an opportunity."

Dennis relaxed just a little—but still didn't open the car door.

Lynn smiled faintly. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed Kelly. Once she picked up, he handed the phone through the window.

Dennis took it hesitantly.

The conversation with his mother lasted less than a minute—but it was enough. He handed the phone back and, after one final glance around, climbed into the passenger seat.

"Sorry, sir," Dennis said quickly. "I assume you already know… what I am. So I have to be cautious. It's just, most people don't exactly like…"

"I get it."

Lynn cut him off gently, smiling as he started the car and pulled into traffic.

"No need to explain."

Dennis nodded, but he was still visibly nervous. "My mom told me to call you 'sir'—or 'Agent Hall'—since I'll be working under you. She said as long as I'm with you… I won't need to worry about being a mutant anymore."

Lynn chuckled. "Your mom's got high hopes for me."

Dennis hesitated. "I… I don't know anything about being a field agent. But I promise, I'll do my best to learn."

Lynn glanced over at him. "Relax, kid. I don't bite."

"You've got potential. You're not the first person I've brought on who started from zero."

"You can learn all the tactical stuff over time. What I need to know is—what's your power?"

"Oh—um, I call it Nature's Gift."

Seeing that Lynn wasn't judging him, Dennis sat a bit straighter.

"It's not offensive, really. More of a survival ability. I can adapt to any natural environment—desert, deep sea, arctic tundra. My body adjusts automatically."

"In extreme exhaustion, I can recover by absorbing energy from nature—like warmth, air, moisture."

He paused, lowering his voice.

"I used to… hate being a mutant. I even tried to kill myself. More than once."

Lynn didn't interrupt.

"I took poisons. My body neutralized them. Jumped in a lake—my lungs pulled oxygen straight from the water through my skin. In subzero temperatures, my body absorbed heat. I even tried suffocating with a plastic bag, but my system created its own oxygen loop."

Silence filled the car.

Lynn arched a brow.

That's… incredibly useful.

Not for offense, no. But as a survival tool, Dennis's mutation was top-tier. A mutant who couldn't die from environmental hazards? Practically immortal under the right conditions.

And judging by how Dennis lowered his head again after speaking, he had no idea how valuable he truly was.

Lynn glanced at the system interface.

> [Dennis Johnson – Favorability: 3]

Still early days. But the ingredients were all here—trust, gratitude, and naivety. Combined with Kelly's support? Gaining Dennis's full loyalty would be easy.

He'll be mine to shape. And I'll be the one to harvest the gift he doesn't even understand yet.

As they reached the FBI building, Sean ran over, breathless.

"Boss!" he said. "We got an ID."

Lynn and Dennis stepped out of the car. Sean handed over a folder.

"The mutant from the concert—name's Adam Morris. Ex-member of the Mutant Brotherhood. Files confirm he's a Class Two mutant. Teleportation's his only known ability."

Lynn flipped through the documents.

Another Brotherhood member.

Just like the last one he'd killed—a brute with enhanced strength. And now this one, with blink-step teleportation.

"They're everywhere," Lynn muttered. "One by one…"

Sean nodded. "After Magneto got locked up, the Brotherhood fell apart. Most of them are picking up mercenary work on the black market to survive."

"Which lines up with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intel," Lynn said. "But we haven't found Morris yet, have we?"

Sean grimaced.

"That's the problem. He vanished after the attack. Intel thinks someone may be erasing his trail."

"Other Brotherhood members?" Lynn asked.

Sean hesitated. Then lowered his voice.

"Some were taken by Striker's unit and disappeared."

"Others are being held by S.H.I.E.L.D. But the rest—someone's actively scrubbing any trace they existed."

Lynn's eyes narrowed slightly.

Someone's tying off loose ends.

He handed the file back to Sean.

"Keep digging. If someone's covering their tracks, I want to know who. And why."