They made their way toward Wembley Stadium together, winding through London's grey veins as the city yawned awake. Isaac walked with the slow, even gait of someone who knew every crooked cobble and back alley by memory.

He let the city wash over him and felt an odd nostalgia. 'This place taught me how to hide, how to survive, and how to live.'

Sven, true to form, kept his head turned to the pavements when women passed, wolfish grin in place. "Oi, would you look at that one," he muttered, more to himself than anyone, then louder, "England's still got it."

His tone was all bravado, but it hid the same restless grin that never lasted long without trouble. Takeshi drifted along beside them, absent-minded in a way that made the world feel steadier.

London felt thick with mutants like New York; the city's broken edges had become a magnet. Tall buildings stacked thin in the morning mist, concrete canyons crowded by those who could bend the world in private.

There was the Association's presence here like a shadow cast across everything: vans with blacked windows, men in tailored suits who moved like they belonged to both the law and something darker.

They had to be careful and act swiftly.

As such, the trio continued through the waking streets until they found themselves at the base of a tall building that watched Wembley from the skyline. It was the kind of vantage point a thief would love and a lord would hate.

Takeshi didn't hesitate. He scaled it with ease, as if a gust of wind took him by the shoulders and set him on the roof - effortless, precise.

Sven, less agile and more dramatic, eyed the height and then Isaac. "You gonna carry me up there, or what?"

Isaac only smiled. "Hold on."

With a ripple through the air, he phased, took Sven's weight, and carried them both upwards. For a moment, Sven was weightless, the world a smear of tile and chimney. When they re-materialised on the rooftop, Sven crumpled to his knees, clutching his stomach.

"I'll never get used to that shit," he groaned, green around the gills.

"It's not fair that you can fly and see through walls now as well as phasing," Sven added, thinking about all he would do with that ability.

Isaac just shook his head and sighed as they settled at the roof's edge.

Below, Wembley spread like a sleeping animal - tiers of seating, metal ribs, service access and truck bays mapped like veins. The stadium lay under the pale morning light, massive and indifferent to the small, dangerous plans forming above it.

They were like conspirators plotting a small, elegant murder. The blueprint Fletcher Sr. had supplied lay spread across the ground. Black ink and grey lines that turned Wembley into a grid of corridors, loading docks, service tunnels, and a lattice of security choke-points.

'This place is a fortress dressed up as a theatre,' Isaac thought, tapping a strip of service tunnels with his finger.

Sven grinned like someone who'd just been handed a golden ticket to chaos. "We've got VIP all-access," he said, eyes bright. "Backstage passes, private suites and whatever else came with it. It's like being handed the keys to a bank vault. All we have to do is figure out how to deal with the loot and get out of there."

Takeshi was quiet as a shadow at their flank, the blindfold a dark slash across his face. He only nodded - minimal motion, maximum presence. They'd all learned to read that nod: trust, readiness, no wasted words.

Isaac also nodded. "So we keep them on us. ID when needed, bluff if they question us. But Takeshi? He sticks out like a sore thumb even with tickets. So he'll have to come in another way."

They'd all agreed that Takeshi being obvious was a problem. He couldn't simply stride through a VIP entrance with a blindfold and expect no one to notice. So the plan formed: Isaac and Sven would use the passes to slip into the backstage flow.

Meanwhile, Takeshi would drop in from above. If anyone could glide through the air and slip into a stadium unnoticed, it was the blind swordsman who'd just scaled the entire building in a single leap.

Getting in and out with their skill sets and mutant abilities shouldn't be too difficult.

The real problem was the security.

This was an enormous show with innumerable guards, many of whom are likely mutants, as well as VIPs who will have their own security detail. Also, Seraphina herself isn't just a singer.

Beautiful by day and ruthless by night, popular with the crowds and dangerous in the backrooms. If she's connected to Nyx as Kai said she was, then the Association is sure to be active here.

'Bitch by night, my favourite,' Sven murmured, half-amused, half-serious. The glitter of the stadium didn't hide the real teeth. They were in for a dangerous dance.

Isaac and Sven debated about timing.

Kidnapping her during the show's crescendo sounded cinematic - slip through the distraction of the crowd, bag her in the crush. But crowds meant unpredictable variables: more mutants in the audience, more collateral. They could get out, but the odds of civilians getting hurt spiked with every second it took.

Another option was tailing her back to the hotel - wait until her guards weren't on guard, her routine lax. Cleaner. Safer. But more time meant more variables; Seraphina had routines, yes, but she also had contingency plans. If she suspected trouble, the hotel would be a fortress too.

Or hide in the venue now, find her dressing room, and snatch her before she sets foot on the stage. That played to Isaac's strengths: a single touch and he could phase her out like a ghost.

The blueprint showed direct service lifts and maintenance shafts that led close to the artist suites. If Isaac could make contact before the show was set to begin, they could disappear into the guts of the arena before anyone sounded the alarm.

Eventually, they agreed on the best course of action.

They had suppressants from the Fletcher armoury - darts designed to restrict a mutant's Z-gene for long enough to haul them away. One hit, and they wouldn't have to worry as much about their target's mysterious ability.

"So, the plan is simple." Isaac enumerated, calm as always. "I phase, I grab Seraphina, and I maintain phased form. If she doesn't see us coming, she can't do anything while we're in a phased form."

Sven nodded, "I will be your backup in case things don't work out as expected, and if you lose phasing, then I will take point. Then, if I'm finished too, Takeshi hauls both of us out."

"If all hell breaks loose, we just fight and figure things out as we go along, like we always do."

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was as best as it was going to be.

As such, they waited and watched the stadium from above as a series of vehicles pulled up through the service gates. They were dark SUVs that disgorged men in earpieces - a motorcade of security.

Within one of those vehicles was their target.

"Go time," Sven whispered.

It should be a relatively easy mission if things went as they had envisioned. Acting early was the decision they came to, before things were set up and with the least amount of variables.

However, as always, there were things they couldn't have possibly accounted for, and things quickly went to shit...

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