X-23

As the Strider collapses in a shower of sparks and gore, it... ceases to collapse. The thing's toppling bulk goes still in mid-air. And so does everything else- the other Striders in the process of dying, the wind through X's hair, the rebels on the ground below. Even the monstrous Synth's blood ceases to fall, frozen in place in defiance of gravity. X herself does not fall any further. Where motion stops, darkness begins; and in mere moments all X can see is the toppling Strider and its gore.

And one other thing: a figure, striding calmly out of the darkness. Gaunt and pale of face, deep-set eyes of greenish-blue, and a scent that resembles someone trying to match a human's but not quite managing, his suit is a respectably cut grey, and he carries a briefcase. He stops a few paces away from X and cocks his head.

"An impressive performance, X-23," he says, in a light, pleasant tone. "I don't believe I would have credited anyone with... that sort of.. capability. You've done quite a fair bit of work today."

"But I can't really allow you to repeat it. As... much as I might wish otherwise. It complicates the equations far too much. I think you and I both know that, wouldn't you say?"

"Time to go, X-23. I have no further interest in keeping you here."