As she and I walked toward the elevator to head up, I began. "I created this town with my brothers and sisters more than fifty years ago. While everything looks peaceful here, the world outside is not so much. I've been protecting everyone behind the scenes to this day, and I am always preparing myself and everyone here for the future that is to come."
"Why did I detain you here? It's simple: I saw you as more than just someone who follows orders. You can become someone who leads people, that's why I'm talking with you right now."
I brought her to the headquarters of the parent company, the one that holds all the shares of every business here. "I brought you here to give you something, something you can do with your talent. It's a role that suits your power and your craving for control. I want you to be the head of our primary investment company."
A rare look of genuine shock crossed Emma's face. In her world, every "gift" came with a price, and every man had an ulterior motive. Yet here you were, offering her an empire without a hint of fear or a demand for her submission. You didn't want to possess her, you wanted to empower her. That realization hit her harder than any physical blow ever could.
"You know that three days ago, I came here to enslave the minds of this town, right?" Emma asked, her voice filled with incredulity.
"Yes, I know. That was then, now is different. I want to see what you will do if you are given unchecked power. Will you be the Armageddon of the whole world, or will you be its savior?" I gave her everything her heart desired: control, power, and wealth.
"Why would I save humans? They can't live in the utopia of the future. Mutants like me are the future of humanity. Why would I help them?" Emma was angry that I asked her to save "normal" humans, especially since she had been persecuted for being a mutant her entire life.
I lifted my hand in front of her face and clenched it into a fist. She immediately shifted into a defensive posture, bracing for an attack that never came. Instead, three bony claws slowly tore through my knuckles. She couldn't hide what she was feeling: pure shock. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt, the founder of this town, the man who held the world in his hands, was a mutant just like her.
She didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the spots on your knuckles where the bone had pierced the skin raw, primal, and undeniable.
"You..." she whispered, her voice trembling for the first time. "All this time, the world looked for a 'Mutant Leader' in the shadows of the Cold War, and you were here... building an empire. Why did you never reveal yourself? You could have led us. You could have stopped the camps, the fear..."
I retracted the claws with a sharp shink sound, the skin on my knuckles already beginning to knit back together.
"Because, In the first place i never want to rule, I admit i was selfish and that why i offer my hand to you" I replied, my voice calm. "Shaw wanted to be a god to the mutants. I preferred to be on the ground, walking with everyone. I build this city as a santuary to everyone, I don't care if you are a mutant, super soldier, or a freak, if you want a place to live, we can give you that here."
Her entire foundation and all her beliefs were overturned again and again. She had always thought that because she was hurt, she had the right to hurt others. But as she looked at me, she realized that, though she didn't know how long I had lived, I must have been hurt far more than she ever was. More people must have turned on me, yet even to this day, she had never heard of a tyrant ruling in Houston.
Emma looks at you, and the "White Queen" persona, the cold, arrogant mask finally falls away completely. She isn't just joining a company, she is joining a cause. She sees that you have carried the weight of your kind for decades without complaining, and she wants to help you carry it.
"You've been alone in this for a long time, haven't you?" she asks softly. "Building a world while everyone else was busy trying to burn it down."
I laughed softly at her. "Well, it's not so bad when the people you love are right beside you." I glanced outside from the top-floor office.
"While I have neglected the mutant population, it doesn't mean I don't care about their suffering. But if I intervene now, everything will change, and I don't know how to handle that on my own."
"That's why I asked you to be here, to help me manage all this. Even a little bit is enough. I didn't want to create a utopia, Emma, I wanted to create a world where everyone can eat, laugh, and smile. In here, I don't need to command everything, I let it run its own course."
"Control is like sand, Emma," I said, my gaze meeting hers. "The more you crave it, the tighter you squeeze, the more it slips through your fingers. True power is building a world that doesn't need you to hold it together every second of the day."
I offered her my hand. "Will you do that with me?"
Emma looked at your hand, the same hand that, moments ago, held the bone claws of a predator. She didn't hesitate this time. She reached out and took it. Her grip was firm, no longer shaking, and her eyes were clear.
"With you," she repeated. The title of "White Queen" felt small now. now her purpose wasn't world domination, It's to keep it safe for a little bit longer.
I introduced myself to her. "I'm James Howlett. Founder of this town, master of the combat arts, and a hundred-year-old relic from the past." I smiled.
"A hundred years old?" She repeated the words as if trying to find the lie hidden within them. She blinked, her composure wavering. The way I spoke wasn't a boast, it was a simple, tired fact. To a woman who valued youth and beauty, the idea of an immortal relic was both terrifying and fascinating.
I let out a short laugh and gave her a mischievous grin. "That's right, I'm just a hundred-and-nine-year-old boy." I watched her face, clearly enjoying how much I was shaking her worldview.
She hesitated, not wanting to ask, but finally spoke up. "So... where am I going to live now?" I chuckled. "Emma, as the President of this company, you don't just get a house. You get an estate. You are part of the family now."
****
Now is still 1962. I always thought this world would follow the path of Wolverine, but it isn't quite the same. In five years, America will wage war against the Viet Cong. Still basking in the glory of World War II, they will go to Vietnam expecting an easy victory. But disappointment will come quickly. In just four and a half years, the Viet Cong will teach the Americans how to fight a guerrilla war in the jungle.
And at the end of the war, that's when it happens. Raven kills Trask, and everything goes to hell after that. While it takes some time for the Sentinels to become as advanced as they are in 2016, this is the pivotal moment for both mutants and humans alike. If that happens, we lose.
I can feel it coming. After that fight, they'll try to force the adamantium into me. They'll do anything to turn me into their lapdog. Men like William Stryker, who doesn't even care about his own son are already working for Trask. He's down there right now, in a lab buried deep beneath a government building, experimenting on every mutant he can get his hands on.
I still don't know exactly how everything will play out, but events will likely unfold as they're supposed to. I've been ready for a long time. I can let it all happen just as it did before, right up until Jean Grey arrives to rescue those kids. Now that would be fun to watch.
and i have a place to visit today.
1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York.
I stood in front of the gate, looking at the sign: The School for the Gifted. I had come here today to see an old friend. As I walked, I found myself inside the school, watching the children running through the hallways. I couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"Charles," I projected, speaking directly into his mind. Charles heard it clearly, a mental resonance he knew well. He had felt this specific frequency a long time ago, and it was a signature he could never forget.
I walked into the office and saw him sitting there in his chair. "Long time no see, old friend," I said, a genuine smile spreading across my face.
"What are you doing here? The last I checked with you, you said it wasn't time yet," Charles replied, Voice a bit strain.
I smirked. "Nothing, actually. I just wanted to see an old friend. It's a rare occasion for me to not have to pretend in front of outsiders."
"I came here to train the kids, to help you out a bit, because of what I did to you that day." I wanted to see them. I came to bully no, sorry, to train kids with powers.
"What's in it for you, stranger?" Charles asked, feeling uneasy that I had come here to offer something for free.
"The name's James. James Howlett. It's nice to meet you, Charles Xavier." I offered a firm handshake to Charles.
Charles took my hand. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm curious, though, why did you say before that it wasn't the right time to meet yet? What makes today different?" At this point, Erik had already left the school with Raven. Charles was still reeling from the loss, feeling the void left by his best friend and the only family he had ever known.
"Let's just say we weren't supposed to be talking like this yet," I said. "We were meant to meet, but not until the near future." I didn't want to tell him any more than that. The timeline was already disturbed, while meeting Charles early had sent ripples through time, it wasn't so bad that it required a correction.
While Charles seemed to want to know more, he knew I wouldn't talk; it was futile to even try forcing me. He chose to believe me this one time, just to see how I would train the students. "Come, I'll take you to them," he said. He then messaged everyone telepathically, telling them to come outside to meet him.
I put on a curious expression, pretending to examine him. "Hmm... you can't walk anymore. Your spine is fractured, and the injury is interfering with your telepathic link. You would need cellular regeneration if you ever wanted to heal that spine."
"Yes, friendly fire," Charles replied. "While I can't walk anymore, I can still teach. No harm done." Though he said it casually, I knew he was grieving. How could someone go from walking to being paralyzed and not feel the loss? It could take years to truly accept a condition like that.
As we headed toward the front yard, every student was there. They looked wary of a stranger walking beside Professor Charles.
"Students," Charles began, "today we have a special guest. He has come to train all of you. While he may look like a normal human, he is a mutant just like us." Charles wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slip away. "He asked me to let him train you as a way of repaying a favor."
"Hello, everyone. The name's James. You can call me James," I said. Then, I pointed. "Now, you with the glasses. Stand in front of me." I ordered Hank to step forward. This was going to be fun.
"Oh, you have a mutated body? One that changes your structure and turns your whole body blue? Hmm... how curious."
I froze. Did I really just say that? Damn, I think that master virus is still messing with my head. Hank looked completely shocked. At this point in time, he was doing everything he could to suppress his genes and look like a normal human.
"That means you're suppressing your body's potential," I said. "While it seems you have a mental block about this, I won't hold it against you. But you still need to learn the basics of self-defense. I'm going to teach you the most fundamental skills: how to block and how to attack."
With that, I taught him three basic blocks and told him to practice them himself. "Do these ten thousand times a day," I ordered. He looked at me as if I were there specifically to torture him.
I looked at Banshee, Sean. "You look like someone who can scream loud," I said. He grinned, but I cut him off. "Now, I need you to do one thing and one thing only: train your vocal cords to speak without opening your mouth, and without using your power. Do just that first." I wanted him to learn ventriloquism. He needed to learn how to exert more power when it mattered, and this training was tailor-made for him.
He was feeling strange, nobody had ever asked him to do anything like that before. While he could control his voice to release a small sonic blast, what I was asking felt almost impossible. To him, it felt like silence and that felt wrong in his very cells.
"I want him to hit his second mutation," I thought. He needed to push his power far beyond what he usually did. Imagine if he could vibrate his own body and then punch someone with that momentum, it would be almost impossible to defend against, and it would hurt significantly more when it hit.
And the last one was Alex Summers. In every iteration of him, it seemed he was jealous of his brother. He lived in Scott's shadow, and that resentment fueled the instability of his power.
I started walking a bit farther away from the group. "Come on, boy. Follow me," I said. We made our way a good distance from everyone else.
"I know you're frustrated because you can't control your energy blasts," I said. "Today, I'm going to teach you how to do exactly that."
Alex felt like he lived in his brother's shadow, but the truth was that no one and I mean no one, had ever actually sat down to talk to the boy about how he felt like he was never enough. While Charles could see the problem, he tended to let his students grow on their own. He helped them with technology and power dampeners, but fundamentally, those things never helped them truly control their own power.
"Before we start, I want to tell you a story about myself," I said. "My mutation is that I heal fast. But that doesn't just mean I recover from wounds, it means I've stayed like this for a hundred, maybe two hundred years. It has become a burden for me. Who would want to live this long? Who would want to live like this?"
When I told Alex that, he was shocked. He had thought my mutation made me super-intelligent or something similar, because he saw how easily I could guess everyone's powers without them even demonstrating.
"Seventy years ago, I started a journey to find myself," I told him. "I kept walking for five years without stopping, and one day, I arrived in Tibet. There, I learned martial arts, the art of self-acceptance, and how to calm your mind when the world becomes chaotic."
"And today, I don't want to teach you any of that," I told him. "Today, I want you to be chaotic. I want you to feel what happens when you release all your energy at once."
Alex looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Sir, you realize if I let go of this energy, everything here, including you, gets leveled, right?" He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he fought to keep it contained.
I needed him to understand his body first to learn why his energy always replenished after being used, and why he always started to feel weak when he was in a dark place.
"Why is it that your body can contain that kind of energy without exploding? Have you never asked yourself why that is?"
Alex started to feel curious, too. While he knew his body contained energy that he could blast, his aim was always terrible and he knew it. He had started to feel down because everyone else was manage to master their powers, while he still couldn't even fire a blast straight.
"I know you've always concentrated your blasts by using hula hoops and those disc suit," I said. "While it's ingenious, it's also stupid. Your power might be called an 'energy blast,' but that doesn't mean it has to blast. That's just stupid on so many levels."
Alex's face began to redden with shame as he looked down at the grass.
"Don't get embarrassed, kid. Be mad that nobody told you the truth," you say, your voice softening just a fraction. "A blast is just a release of pressure. You're treated like a steam pipe that's about to burst, so they gave you a nozzle. But you aren't the pipe, Alex. You're the steam."
"Instead of pushing the energy out in a circle, I want you to try to condense it. Don't throw it. Keep it an inch away from your skin. Wrap it around your fist like a glove. If you can hold the energy there without letting it 'blast' away, If you manage to do that, A punch from you can level a mountain."
Alex seemed to realize it then. All this time, he thought he understood his power, but today I opened his eyes to so much more. Yes, his power is an energy blast but that doesn't mean he needs to blast everything every time he fights.
"Now, I want you to release everything you have. Today, we're going to train you on how to release and absorb energy that's all. It will take as long as it takes. And I'm warning you: you might throw up, and you might want to give up. I won't give you a chance to stop once we begin. Do you want to continue this training?"
I needed him to make that decision for himself. Even if I forced him, if he didn't truly want to do the work, there would be nothing I could do to make him move.
"If I stay," Alex says, his voice cracking, "and I can't do it... if I fail..."
"Then you fail," you shrug. "But you'll fail knowing exactly what you're made of. So? Is it the 'hula hoops' and sense of nothing you do matter, or is it this?"
Alex takes a deep breath. his eyes starting to glow with a fierce, red light.
"Don't stop me," Alex says, his jaw set. "No matter how much I beg. Don't let me stop."
By the time Alex released that energy, I had already locked the space with my Codex. I stayed inside with him to train him and to teach him that his life is just as important as everyone else's. I stayed close to reassure him that it wasn't a lack of control holding him back, he simply lacked the "know-how." That was all.
I heard noise behind me, When they saw alex start releasing his energy, everyone is afraid, Charles was afraid Alex would go supernova and level the entire field, but I raised my hand to stop him. Whatever he was planning to do, I shut it down.
I signaled to him that Alex needed this. He couldn't keep coddling the kid or expecting him to control his power with only outside help. I held my gaze firm, making sure Charles understood.
****
We had been doing this for an hour. Everyone watching from a distance was afraid at first, but when they couldn't feel the heat of the blasts, they were weirded out. They didn't know that I had locked the space. I saw Alex starting to grow tired, but for the first time, he finally understood what his power truly meant.
"do you understand your power now alex?" this is the first time i say his name, i was impressed with his gut, he on my good book now.
"Yes, sir. I can feel the energy all over my body," Alex said, sounding exhilarated. He hadn't realized that to truly understand his power, all he needed to do was keep releasing it. But then again, who would have told him that?
As he kneeling on the ground, he was completely naked, the energy blasts had incinerated everything on his body and in his immediate surroundings. The only thing left untouched was me, his instructor. Despite being the closest to the blast, I stood there perfectly calm, as if I had just stepped out of a sauna.
I pulled a towel from my pocket dimension and handed it to Alex. "Tomorrow, we do this again," I said. "And for the rest of the week."
He needed to understand what was at stake here. If it took him a week just to learn how to release and absorb energy, learning everything else would take time. For the more advanced techniques, we would just have to wait for the future.
****
By the end of the week, the most successful student in the training was Hank. He is a genius, after all, and he has the dedication to match. I only asked him to learn how to block, but from that alone, he derived a completely new move he created himself. That was enough for him, you only need to give someone like Hank a starting point. After that, you can just sit back and watch him bloom.
As for Sean, he had the hardest time adapting. Eventually, he was able to say one or two words without opening his mouth, we can try again in the future. Alex was somewhere in the middle. Since all he needed to do was keep blasting energy out of his body, he made steady progress. By the end of the week, I saw it: he could finally contain a blast in his hand. He laughed so hard that he actually cried that day.
Charles was on the balcony of the mansion, watching the glow from the lake. He doesn't need to read Alex's mind to know the boy has changed. He looks at you and realizes that your "cruel" training was actually the most merciful thing anyone has ever done for him.
"Do you understand your body now, Alex?" I asked him.
"Yes, sir. I understand," he replied. "I love it... I love this. I want to learn more, sir. Please, teach me."
He finally saw hope, and he didn't want to let it go.
"Okay then. The second step is flight. I want you to use your energy to fly," I said, grinning at him.
"Fly, sir? Are you serious? You want me to fly?" Alex looked at me as if I were crazy.
"Yes, I want you to fly. Learn how to release your energy through your feet, your hands, your elbows, and your knees. I want you to use that energy to blast yourself upward."
Alex turned serious then. He realized why I was asking him to fly, I wanted him to learn more advanced methods of energy release.
Alex stands on the scorched grass, looking down at his feet. He starts to channel the red energy. At first, it just leaks out of his heels, singing the dirt.
"Don't just let it leak!" I bark, crossing my arms. "Control the pressure. If the output is uneven, you're going to face-plant into the lake. Treat your hands like rudders and your feet like engines."
Alex grunts, his face turning red with concentration. Suddenly, a violent burst of crimson light explodes from the soles of his feet. He shoots twenty feet into the air but because he didn't balance his hands, he starts flipping backward like a broken firework.
"Balance, Alex! Use your elbows!"
He panics for a second, then flares his elbows, creating a counter-thrust that levels him out. He's hovering, shaky and screaming, ten feet above your head. He's flying, but he looks like a baby bird trying to survive a hurricane.
After another three days
Alex shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'm flying, sir! I'm flying! Wooohoooooo!"
He was soaring above the trees, his body silhouetted against the crimson glow of his own energy. For the first time in his life, the weight of his mutation didn't feel like a burden, it felt like freedom.
"Don't get too comfortable, Alex!" I yell up to him, though i was secretly proud. "Propulsion is easy when you're going in a straight line! Now try a barrel roll! Use your knees to pivot the thrust!"
Alex tries to bank left, but he over-corrects. He spins wildly for a second, his red rings flickering like a strobe light, before he catches himself and stabilizes. He looks down at you, a giant, confident grin on his face.
"I've got it, Sir! I can feel the wind! I can feel the energy pushing back against the air!"
I watched as the kid kept flying through the air. Everyone was there, gawking at something they thought was impossible. Alex's energy had always been too volatile to tame, which was why, until now, they had only managed to build a contraption to contain it. That was their mistake: they wanted to contain the energy, but I wanted Alex to release it.
"Kid, come down! We need to start Phase Three," I called out. He was ready and I was going to make sure of that.
As Alex stood in front of me, I gave him his next order. "Kid, I want you to create a shield around yourself and blast your energy outward at the same time."
To alex, this sounded even crazier than my previous instruction to fly. He looked at me, stunned, trying to figure out how he could possibly hold his power close and throw it away simultaneously.
At first, Alex was skeptical, but after all the success I had shown him, he didn't need to question my orders anymore. He realized that every "crazy" thing I asked him to do led to a breakthrough. Now, when I spoke, he simply listened and acted.
Everyone around me looked worried. They understood Alex Summers as "Havok," but they didn't understand this Alex Summers. This was the upgraded Havok, Havok Version 2.0.
Alex's power involves breaking down the molecular bonds of objects using plasma, essentially turning solid matter into chaotic, super-heated gas.
That was why he had the hardest time controlling his power. But now, my training will make his old contraptions look obsolete.
The thing is, everyone looks at Alex and sees a power that's hard to control. But that's the problem, isn't it? Control. It runs deep in the bones of the X-Men. From the first time they met Alex, the reports said his energy was volatile and impossible to control.
But you can't control chaos, if you keep pushing it down, it will eventually blow up in your face. And that is exactly what happened to Alex when he started training with the X-Men.
And now, the training has reached Phase Three. This is the epitome of what he will achieve in the future. If he can shape his energy however he wants, wouldn't that place him above even an Omega-level mutant? Imagine if he could shape his energy into a long rod, every time that rod touched something, it would simply disintegrate. Think of how dangerous that would be.
He kept failing at the task, over and over again. At one point, he looked at me to see if I was disappointed with him, but I didn't even frown. Instead, I barked at him, "Alex, are you giving up after everything you've been through? Push through! Never give up. Giving up is the enemy of progress. You fail today so you can succeed tomorrow." My words gave him the strength he needed to keep going.
We had been at this for a month. In one spot on the Xavier School lawn, there was a crater, the result of Alex's initial energy blasts. By the second to last day of the month, he finally managed to do it. He was weak afterward because of the sheer amount of energy he had to concentrate, but I called it a success. I told him there was a Phase Four, but he wasn't ready for it just yet.
The fact that he feels weak afterward is actually a good sign, it means he finally pushed past his previous limits and tapped into his core reserves. He didn't just leak energy, he spent it with purpose.
"You did it, kid," I say, standing at the edge of the pit. "You didn't just explode. You aimed."
"Well, I can call this training a success," I said. I looked at him as he sat exhausted in the center of the crater.
"There is a Phase Four for this," I continued, "but you aren't ready for that yet."
Alex looks up, a tired but genuine smile on his face. "Phase... Four...?" he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. "What's... Phase Four?"
"Why? You thought your training was finished? Keep dreaming, kid. As long as you're alive, you will keep training. Even I still train, despite how strong I've become."
"You... you still train?" Alex asks, his voice barely a whisper.
"Every day," you reply, your tone cold but honest. "The universe is always expanding, Alex. If you aren't growing with it, you're shrinking".
"Let me give you a sneak peek of Phase Four," I said, smiling like a mad scientist.
"Imagine if your energy could be turned into a solid construct. What would you make? A sword? A gun? A plane? If you can imagine it, you can make it. Doesn't that make you the strongest mutant alive right now?"
Alex was feeling giddy with himself. Can you imagine it? He created a samurai sword out of pure energy and started pretending to be a samurai. He looked incredibly cool.
"I understand, sir. I'll keep training with everything you've taught me. I'm going to master this style so that one day, you'll teach me even more."
Alex was finally seeing hope. He no longer needed to be afraid of himself, or afraid of hurting the people he loved.
"Heh," I smirked at him. "Now I've finished teaching all of you. My job here is done. Once you have completely mastered everything I've taught you, we will begin Phase Four."
"See you again, kids," I said. I didn't wait for his reply, I just disappeared inside my portal.
"But you didn't give me a way to contact you if I master everything," Alex said slowly, his voice trailing off as he stared at the space where the portal had been.
Then, he heard a voice whispering in his mind, "That is why I said when you master everything, I'll know."
Alex froze, looking around, but the lawn was empty. He realized then that I hadn't truly left him.
Now Alex knew that I would know the moment he mastered everything. He didn't think too much about it, but he remembered what I told him about his energy signature.
"If you release too much," I had warned him, "everyone will suspect there's a nuclear power plant hidden here."
That was who he had been before he met me. Now, he could breathe the energy in and out as easily as breathing air.
to be continued -