Adam dreamed a quiet, happy dream. Something he hadn't been able to do for a long time.
A small restaurant, his smiling mother, and himself rushing around picking orders from one customer to another.
It was a simple, familiar setting where he always forgot time.
A part of him felt the warmth he longed for, something he had always taken for granted. The other part that was forever changed since last night felt only pain.
It knew that this was but a fleeting memory conjured to ease his heavy mind, and it wouldn't last long.
A resigned sigh echoed; the memory was fleeting, closing like a heavy book.
Adam opened his eyes to the sight of a tall window draped with climbing leafy branches.
The sun was up high, indicating a significant portion of the day had passed.
He noticed the faint classical music playing in the background, an unfamiliar old song he hadn't heard before.
It felt quite peaceful. A perfect morning start, someone would say, if only it wasn't broken by the sound of feline grumbling and paper being torn.
Adam, while still lying in bed, turned his head to the side. He awoke in a spacious room, an infirmary, he realized. Equipped with various medical equipment and other high-tech gadgets, he had never seen them before.
At the end of the room was a desk, piled with books and unfamiliar objects.
However, this didn't draw Adam's attention. It was the blue, feline-like man, wearing a lab coat, scribbling something on paper while muttering.
"Dear Mr. Jane, I want to apologize for missing our date last night. I know how you must be feeling right now, and perhaps you are thinking I ghosted you on purpose. But I want to assure you..."
"Nah, scratch that, it's not right." He tore the paper right away.
The beast, Adam easily recognized, seemed to be writing and voicing a letter for someone, and probably it wasn't intended to be heard by anyone other than the recipient.
So he pushed himself, leaning against the bedpost. His actions led to the bed cover sliding, revealing his bare, bandaged upper body.
He looked at his chest, his eyes dimming slightly as he remembered what had come to be last night.
"Ah, you woke up." A deep, majestic voice sounded, breaking Adam's reverie. His head snapped to the side. Hank McCoy stood up and approached him calmly.
But was it truly the truth? Was he really calm? No, he recognized the hidden caution behind the man's light steps that few could notice unless they peered into others' minds.
I'm not what I used to be, he thought, the difference was most noticeable this morning.
Adam woke feeling strangely calm, his unsettled thoughts somehow faring better under his control as if he had placated himself.
"Good morning," Adam greeted the man standing by his bed.
Hank smiled, revealing his fangs.
"What? Not yet screaming that a beast is about to eat you."
"I saw you yesterday," Adam smiled. Appreciating the attempt to lighten up the mood after what happened.
Hank scratched his head while grumbling.
"Err, about that, that probably wasn't the best course of action, especially when meeting newcomers."
Adam felt something from the blue furry man: hesitation, and guilt?
"I don't know how you run things in your school, but your looks don't scare me," he spoke, his eyes looking into the Beast's golden eyes, the same as his.
"Still, it wasn't the best decision," Hank shook his head.
"You shouldn't be feeling guilty, Dr...?" Adam's words shook Dr. Hank McCoy.
"Hank McCoy, you can call me Hank," he replied.
"Okay, Hank, I'm Adam Winters," Adam said, stretching his right hand for a handshake.
"Oh, you shouldn't be doing that," Hank quickly and gently shook his hand, then lowered it on the bed.
"But it doesn't hurt, " He was puzzled himself; Logan's claws pierced deep through his shoulder. The memory of it sent a shiver down his spine.
How could I forget? I made a man act against his wishes last night. Adam's mood sank.
Hank, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes and then reached for the bandages, unwrapping them.
"Let me see," he said, quickly and deftly removing the bandages, revealing an already healed wound that was covered with a layer of dead skin resembling scales.
"Scales?" Hank said, perplexed, looking at Adam.
"Interesting... is your mutation related to lizards?" He asked with the full curiosity of a doctor and a scientist.
Adam was unsure how to explain his mutation and power knowledge when he awakened just yesterday.
"I don't know..." he said, believing this reply would suffice for now.
"I see," Hank nodded, taking his words. "I think you should be fine physically, at least." He winced at his last words.
"But we'll probably need to run other tests later."
"I'm fine, you don't need to worry,"
Hank shook his head. "It's my job, and right now, what you need the most is a talk with the professor." He said before turning and walking to the room's exit.
Hank opened the door, then paused, looking back.
"Hey, don't be hard on yourself about what happened yesterday. We've experienced much more volatile mutations, so take it easy on yourself."
Adam fell silent momentarily before speaking, his voice faltering a little.
"Aren't you afraid of coming in contact with me? After what happened yesterday?"
"No," Hank replied, seemingly hesitant, pointing at Adam. "Besides, you're wearing a power suppressor bracelet. I know that this wasn't consensual on your part, and I apologize. We had to do it in order to treat you."
Adam looked to his left hand, where an unnoticed tech-looking bracelet rested.
"It's fine," he said, not minding their cautious actions.
"Thank you for your understanding," Hank said, relieved; this was a last, cautious resort, rarely ever taken. But when met with someone who could influence Logan's mind, everyone's safety took priority.
"You can take it off if you want. The professor will be here shortly. He'll be able to guide you. So there's no need to worry. Now I've got to go." He said and went out the door.
Adam's gaze lingered on his fading back. He heard voices drifting from upstairs, Rogue's. He still remembered her warm touch on his arm when she tried suppressing his powers; however, it didn't work.
"Power suppression," Adam muttered, looking at one side of the wall.
"Upper floor, Charles Xavier, Anna Marie, Jean Grey." He unconsciously said the names of the people discussing him in a room upstairs, pinpointing their location with ease. There was another one far away, he couldn't locate, most likely hidden by extraordinary means.
I already became a Visionary...
He thought, complex emotions surging through him. He was in another world, with so much power in his hands, he couldn't fully control it yet.
He was a mortal, struggling to control transcendental powers. Like a climber ascending a steep mountain blindfolded, any slight mistake and he'd pay with his own blood and sanity.
"Whatever this thing is, it's not working on me..." he sighed, looking at the green mansion's ground outside the window. Settling his thoughts, lest something unexpected happens, just like yesterday.
Less than five minutes passed before the door swung open, revealing Rogue wearing her green and yellow bodysuit under a long brown coat.
She strode in with confidence. Adam followed her path until she stood beside the bed, her confidence fading as she fidgeted with her black gloves, until it looked like she was about to tear them apart.
"You woke up?" She said, her eyes on Adam's shoulder. "How's that wound feeling? It looks healed."
Her flurry of questions left him unsure where to start. There was a certain dichotomy in her behavior. She appeared to be confident at first, then she became hesitant and even more so, curious.
"I guess my mutation accelerated my healing." He said, revealing a slight smile. If only to ease the woman who jumped to help last night, disregarding the negative effects it'd put on her.
"That's a mighty relief," She smiled back. "Ah thought you'd take a few days before you get on your feet."
Adam patted his knees under the covers. "Well, I'm not exactly on my feet, but it's a start."
Rogue chuckled, then went and pulled a moving chair, sitting next to him.
"Listen, what happened yesterday isn't exactly your fault. Stuff happens here in the mansion, and losing control over your powers is a common thing." She said, patting his shoulder with her gloved hand.
"So don't blame yourself too much. Ah've had a similar experience in the past."
Adam looked at her, at her hesitant pat on his shoulder. It wasn't an easy thing to let go of past mistakes, but it wasn't impossible. The problem was that he was a man from another world with a different life experience that perhaps didn't shape him for the better.
"I'm trying, it isn't easy," he said, the words feeling heavy in his mouth. Said with the acceptance of a man willing to mend what was broken.
No matter how exhausting it felt. No matter what he had experienced, some people had it worse than he did. He knew that, and he wasn't so self-absorbed as to deny it.
One breath at a time, Adam. He thought, at least he was healthy once again, and there weren't many chances freely given. Despite the bizarre situation of waking up in a world he had written two lines about.
He let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding and looked at her. "But I'd like to apologize to the man I-I wronged."
"You mean Logan." She said, looking outside the window. "He's a tough man, won't hold you for it, but you'll have to speak to him later, he isn't in the mansion, likely chugging barrels of booze."
Adam fell silent, Logan's shocked face as he stood over him, his claws covered with blood, still haunted his mind.
"What's your name?" he said, pretending he hadn't just learned her true name.
"Anna Marie." She smiled. "But everyone here calls me Rogue."
"Adam Winters." He said, giving her his hand for a handshake.
Rogue froze, hesitating, then started touching her gloved right hand. Indecision tore at her heart; she wanted to confirm something since last night, that at least there was someone in this world whom she could freely and without any consequences touch.
"Rogue?" Adam called for her, unconsciously discerning the nervousness mixed with hope in her demeanor. He understood what she was thinking about, but he wasn't worried. If she couldn't do anything to him yesterday when he was losing control, then there was no reason to fear. Moreover, he did it purposely to at least gain the trust of one of the X-Men.
"O-Okay." She gulped and took off her gloves, revealing a slightly sweaty hand. She reached slowly until she fully clasped his hand, and nothing happened.
"See, that wasn't so hard," Adam said, smiling at Rogue, her relief momentarily shedding light over his heavy conscience.
Rogue kept switching between his hand and his face with a look of wonder and amazement no one could miss.
She realized that she could hug someone without fear; she wanted to do it, badly. But she held herself, as relief and gratitude washed over her.
"It's heartening to see a bond forming already." Professor Xavier said warmly as he entered the room, followed by Jean, Hank, and Ororo.
Rogue turned, joyfully looking at the professor. She swung Adam's hand high as if to show him a prized toy.
"Ah can touch him, Professor, Ah really can touch someone." She said happily, her voice trembling from the different emotions bubbling within her, threatening to break out.
Seemingly infected by her joy, everyone unconsciously smiled except Adam, who now almost fell off the bed.
"Ah, Rogue, you might want to take it easy on him," Jean said, pointing to the front.
Rogue turned to the sight of Adam awkwardly stabilizing himself on the bed. "Sorry, Hon, Ah forgot myself for a moment."
"It's alright." He replied, he didn't mind her joy, even if it was missing from his life.
"Your wound, it looks healed," Jean said as she and everyone stood around his bed, making Adam slightly nervous.
"I think he has a healing factor like our resident lone wolf," Hank said, cleaning glasses with a white cloth. "Moreover, his skin formed a dead cell membrane with a scale pattern, similar to lizards' shedding."
"A second mutation?" Charles said, puzzled.
"Err, we don't know yet," Hank shrugged his shoulders. "We don't even know the full nature of his powers."
"It must be hard on you to process all this," Ororo's voice brought everyone's attention back to Adam. "Our powers often alienate rather than draw people to us," she said sympathetically.
"Kinda know how that feels..." Rogue muttered by his side, still holding his hand.
Adam looked at Ororo. There was a warm, motherly kind of feeling when she spoke, as if she wanted to assure him he was safe here.
"I'd rather people keep away from me if it means hurting others," he said, lowering his head.
"Last night…I-I didn't mean to," his hold on Rogue's hand tightened. "I felt afraid. I wasn't at my best yesterday."
"It's okay, we understand." Charles put a hand on Adam's knee. "Sometimes things spiral beyond our control."
"But it's my fault." Adam's voice rang loud within the room. "I was the one who compelled him to do that; I manipulated him."
"No, it's not yours," Rogue said firmly. "Ah saw the look in your eyes, you came here looking for help, just like me," she looked back at her fellow X-Men, reminiscing.
"We should be the ones blaming ourselves," Jean sighed. "Everyone here wants you to forgive us, and maybe give us a chance to help you."
"We can guide you." She said with assurance.
"Son," Charles suddenly said, leaning back in his wheelchair.
"I created this school years ago, in the hope of creating an environment for young mutants like you to learn, to live amongst your kind without any prejudice, and even fight for a place for us in this world." His eyes locked with Adam's, who felt sincerity and a sense of duty from the old man.
"We made mistakes yesterday, and we won't be able to correct them unless you allow us to help you."
"Come on." Rogue tugged at his arm. "You have a place with us."
Adam saw the hope in her eyes; he wanted to make them understand that he was the one at fault. However, it seemed that they didn't want to listen, and perhaps they understood the situation from every angle, but they didn't want to shift the blame on a newly awakened mutant.
Adam's tense shoulders relaxed a little as he let out a breath.
"I need your help." His words were soft and heavy, but they brought a relieved smile to everyone's face.
"And that is exactly what we'll do." Charles smiled warmly. "We should begin by introducing ourselves. I'm Professor Charles Xavier, the school's headmaster, and these are some of my oldest students," he said, pointing at the X-Men.
"Ororo Munroe," Storm tilted her head slightly.
"Jean Grey, a telepath just like you."
"Hank McCoy, our brilliant scientist. Don't mind his fangs, he doesn't bite." Hank grinned, showing his teeth.
"And finally, Anna Marie, our Southern darling." Rogue smiled sweetly, liking how he introduced her.
"Others are missing; you can catch up with them later," Charles said, then looked at Adam, eager to learn more about him.
"I'm Adam Winters," he nodded.
Charles leaned forward. "Your mind is the beginning of your troubles and also the solution."
"Let me guide you. I can teach you how to harness your powers for your own benefit, and for good."
"I'm willing," Adam said, feeling both relieved and nervous.
Charles smiled. "Now, take off the bracelet before we begin."
"It doesn't matter, it's not working anyway."
Charles stilled for a moment, then looked at Hank, who was equally surprised. Last night, he had sensed the wavelength of his X genes, and they ran tests on his blood sample; they were positive too.
"We hadn't encountered this situation before," Jean said, amazed.
Ororo, on the other hand, looked pensive at Rogue's hand resting on Adam's.
"Perhaps this is related to his immunity to Rogue's touch."
Hank pondered for a moment, his genius mind racing for a logical explanation, but nothing came to his mind.
"We can investigate this later. At least for now, this can be considered a good thing," he sighed, feeling equally curious and frustrated.
"Ah think you're overthinking it a bit. A shaved knuckle down the hole is better than nothing at all. Who'd expect there's a mutant like him?" Rogue said, not concerned with the reason behind the phenomenon.
"Right," Charles hesitated, nodding, but he'd still investigate. If they could make a breakthrough regarding this, they could prevent many tragedies from happening.
Putting the matter to the side, he focused back on the blonde mutant.
"I can help you tour your mind and teach you how to harness it; the prerequisite is that you'll allow my entry."
"How do I do that?" Adam asked.
Charles thought for a moment, sorting his thoughts.
"First of all, you have to start treating your powers like they are a part of you, as any other organ."
"If you try to distance yourself from this fact, you won't succeed. At that time, you'll find your mind is working against you instead," Charles said with a firm tone. He knew very well how ugly this would become if he didn't address this early, especially for telepaths.
"I've come to terms with that fact," Adam said. "I've come to terms with even more absurd things, so I think I'm ready for this."
"Good," Charles nodded, gratified. "Now, your mind is tightly guarded. I don't know how you did it, but you have to let me in, and just like I told you, believe in yourself. Shall we begin?"
Charles looked at Adam, who nodded. They both closed their eyes; everyone stood silent, waiting.
Adam frowned, sensing a gentle touch on his mind. He knew it was the professor, and now it was time for him to do as he had said.
But he had one concern: he didn't want anyone to know that he knew them before they knew him, through movies and everything.
His instincts did wonders as he felt a hum within his mind. Memories were separated, hidden beyond any telepath's ability to search, just like how he did the day he awakened. His instincts smoothly took control of his powers.
He took a deep breath, feeling Rogue's warm hand gently reassuring him. He willed Charles, allowing him to get inside.
Then all of a sudden, he felt something had changed. The air felt not so fresh as before: dusty and suffocating, too familiar.
He opened his eyes. They were inside a dimly lit room. Charles was beside him, and so was Rogue, still holding his hand.
"I didn't expect you'd bring Rogue too," Charles said, but Adam wasn't listening; he was silent, his heart heavy..
"Ah suppose he made a mistake bringin' me," she said, glancing at Adam, who released her grasp and strode forward to the PC desk, in front of the high gaming chair.
He looked at the static image on the screen, the quill lying on top of the keyboard, and himself, skinny and sickly looking, propping a leg on the chair, unfocused, with no light in his eyes.
This is me, was me... Seconds passed while he kept staring at himself until he felt he was about to suffocate.
A gentle hand patted his shoulder.
"Hon, whatchu lookin' at?" she asked, peering over his shoulder.
"This is..." She was surprised by this version of him.
The professor stood and walked to the other side, then fell silent.
"These are your memories, Adam, and how you perceived the world and yourself," he sighed at the end, not expecting to see this sight.
"I see," Adam said, his voice faltering. "Do you know, professor... how one would lose his spark, standing still in place as people pass him by, not because he doesn't want to move, he just can't."
"There's always more to life, a new purpose, beginning," Charles replied, staring at this haunting version of Adam.
"There's always help to give, people you can talk to."
"Yeah, there was..." Adam smiled bitterly and turned around, not wanting to take another look.
"Follow me, let's go downstairs," he said, sensing someone waiting for him below.
They walked out of the dark room into the brightly lit corridor, then they descended the stairs into the restaurant.
It was clean and bright with a delicious smell permeating the space.
"This must've been a happy place for you," Charles said, comparing the distinct difference between the house levels.
"It is," Adam said softly, before moving to the kitchen, where a sizzling sound could be heard.
He opened the door; a delicious aroma assaulted his nose, and an unforgettable face greeted him with a smile.
The woman had blonde hair, blue eyes. She wore a white apron over a yellow skirt dress.
However, what surprised everyone, especially Charles and Rogue, was that she looked radiant, as if light was coming out of her pores, gentle and comforting to the eye.
"I thought you'd never come and see me," she said, looking at the frozen Adam.
"Mind telling us who she is?" Charles asked, wondering if this woman was bad news.
"S-She's my mother," Adam said, breathless and pained as he looked at her.
"I can always be your mother, Adam," Martha said, walking toward the group. Each step she took was like a hammer pounding on his heart; he trembled, closing his eyes.
"But you know that I'm not her," she said, staring at Adam's wet, closed eyes.
"What do you mean?" Rogue gripped Adam's hand, wary and caring.
Martha smiled and gently ran the palm of her hand on her son's face.
"I'm the longing he holds for her, made real by him."
Silence fell over the room, partly due to Adam's mood and the other was for the scope of his powers, which defied their comprehension.
"Is this true?" Charles asked hesitantly, reconsidering the potential and the risks that came with this revelation.
"Yes," Adam said, his voice echoing his sorrow. He opened his eyes, looking at her gentle, sweet smile, and her hand, carefully wiping his tears.
"I thought I vanished you, in the cab."
Martha nodded her head, acknowledging the fact. "But you didn't put much effort into it, or perhaps, subconsciously, you didn't want me to go at all."
"It's alright, we're here," Rogue said to Adam while looking at the woman who only had her son in her eyes.
"Do you want to help me do something, like the good old days?" Martha asked. Adam wiped his tears, looking puzzled.
"What do you want to do?"
"Help me cook like we always used to do." She took his other hand and dragged him all the way to the kitchen counter, where a few ingredients lay waiting.
On the stove, there was a pan loaded with onions and mushrooms sizzling under the heat.
"Shall we begin?"
Adam stood silent for a moment. He slowly picked up a knife and took a peeled potato, then, without hesitation, his knife fell, starting to dice it into big chunks.
Charles and Rogue stood watching from the back, leaning on the wall, letting Martha take the lead.
"He must've suffered a lot..." Rogue whispered to the professor, who nodded.
"We'll guide him slowly, Rogue. For now, let him have his moment with his mother, or the ghost of her."
Inside the mindscape, time seemed to flow differently, and illogical situations happened without too much questioning.
Adam and Martha fell into a calm rhythm, each one doing a set of preparations and rotating on the stove. Before long, a bowl of lamb stew with onions, mushrooms, and potatoes was on the kitchen counter surrounded by the group, each one holding a tasting spoon.
"Taste it, Adam. Tell me, did we do a good job?" Martha asked expectantly.
Adam took a spoon, and so did Rogue and Charles.
"Certainly a delicious dish," Charles smiled. The warmth he tasted wasn't just a metaphor—it was felt, clear and resounding, touching his heart.
"Ah, I think I've eaten something like this when I was younger," Rogue said softly, savoring another spoon that reminded her of her aunt she left behind in Mississippi.
"It tastes the same," Adam said quietly, putting down his spoon.
"And it always will be," Martha said, clasping his hand. "Your mind is the house of your memories, and you're its master."
"Indeed, Adam," Charles interjected. "When you start gaining mastery of your psyche, everything here will bend to your will. The key is how to harness it."
Martha looked at Charles. "And I suppose you're here to guide him?"
"I intend to help him through his journey," Charles said confidently.
"Perhaps I can help with that. I'm his creation, and I know best what he could do. Come with me," she said, then pulled Adam up, walking to the door.
They went out of the kitchen into the restaurant, towards the doors leading outside.
Martha opened the doors and stepped outside. They were greeted by what appeared to be a floating flat landmass with the restaurant in the center.
The sky was dark, adorned with glistening stars. There was no moon, but its gentle light was present.
"This is your mind, Adam… I-I've never seen anything like it," Charles proclaimed, glancing at the empty surroundings. "It only accommodates your house and nothing else."
"This is a mind island," Martha corrected him before stopping at the edge of the landmass, peering over a barrier-like grey fog with other countless islands floating far away behind it.
"And that is the sea of collective subconsciousness."
Charles looked at the grey fog, frowning. "I'm afraid I've never heard of this term before. This fog sea seems like a web, connecting countless minds."
"Of course you wouldn't; you don't have the authority to see it, only Adam, as far as I know. You can consider it as a hidden aspect of the mind world."
Adam recognized instinctively; he had a sudden feeling that he could reach the other side immediately if he wanted to.
"I don't suggest you do that, you're not ready yet," Martha said, recognizing what he was about to do. She pointed up to the sky. "Look up, Adam, do you know what's up there?"
Everyone stared at where she pointed, where a nebulous cloud of colors swirled without fixed shape.
"That's your kingdom."
"My Kingdom," Adam murmured, recognizing it for what it was.
Charles couldn't help but stare longer at the swirling mass, ever changing, each color and transformation, a beginning and end. He felt that he was out of his territory. "I don't understand what you're talking about, it's a bit unfamiliar from what I'm used to dealing with."
Martha nodded in understanding.
"I understand you're dealing with a visionary. Unlike any other mutants you know."
"What's a Visionary?" Rogue said, curiously looking at Adam, who fidgeted in place.
"I can make stuff happen with a thought," he said vaguely.
"You're undermining yourself," she chuckled, then looked at Charles and Rogue, her smile fading, replaced by a serious looking demeanor.
"A Visionary holds absolute authority over thoughts and imagination." She paused, letting her words sink in.
"What he shall declare will happen, and what he envisions will come to life... just like me."
Charles and Rogue looked surprised, shocked even, they never thought he had this kind of ability.
"Now that you know what you're dealing with, can you truly help him ease the burden of his gifts?" She calmly stared at them, waiting for their answer.
Professor Xavier kept silent; he now realized what he was dealing with: someone with endless potential.
Someone who's a mutant but has other qualities that transcend the normal scope of a mutant, perhaps like Jean with the Phoenix Force.
Charles smiled, aside from the excitement of what Adam could become as an X-Men with the proper guidance. He would never abandon a mutant in need.
"He has already become our responsibility," he said sincerely.
Rogue, on the other hand, simply placed a firm hand on Adam's shoulder, assuring, and without the need to voice her thoughts.
"Thank you." Martha clasped her hands on her chest, even though she wasn't his true mother, she was shaped by his love and longing for her, through his happiness and dark days.
She understood him better than anyone, loved him more than anyone, despite being a ghost of someone.
"Adam," she said, smiling, spreading her arms wide.
"Would you give me a hug?"
Adam trembled; a foreboding feeling gripped his heart. He slowly opened his arms and hugged her tightly.
"Mother, I..." he said, tears falling from his eyes.
Martha simply patted his back, whispering.
"Shh, you know what you have to do, Adam, I'm not her, you need to let me go." She said, her voice calm, the selfish part of her wants to continue to exist, but the other part, shaped by his love for her, chooses otherwise.
She took a step back from his hold.
"There's no need for goodbyes, my son."
Adam clenched his fists fiercely; he wanted to hold her more. Tell how much he missed her and the days he lived without her.
But he knew better, his shoulders slumped, respecting her wishes.
Charles and Rogue remained silent, and a few tears dropped from their eyes at this heartbreaking scene.
"Now, even though you haven't fully come to your potential yet, here." Martha pointed at the surrounding void. "You're the master of your mind, you hold more power than you can imagine."
"Now close your eyes," Adam fell silent, then did as he was told.
"Envision it." Her voice gently entered his ears, guiding him, but it left him torn from the inside.
A few seconds passed, then he opened his eyes; his mother was gone. Specks of light were all that remained, and a fading voice echoing through the void.
"Adam loves the world," he murmured, repeating her last words, something only them could understand.
Charles and Rogue moved and stood beside him.
"We'll help you, Adam." Professor Xavier said, conjuring a red brick in his hands.
"I suppose the key to your mind is around making your kingdom, you'll build it bit by bit, just like how I taught Jean and Rogue."
"Ah remember, Professor helped build a wall shielding my thoughts from all the personas I absorbed," Rogue said, having gone through this when she joined the mansion.
"Thank you," Adam said, a slightly complicated look on his face.
He had come to terms with his transmigration, the reality he once thought was but a fiction, and his identity as a Visionary.
All that remained was to live fully in this second chance.
"Ah, I think that's enough for today's tour." Rogue looked at the professor, who nodded, then said.
"We'll continue your training tomorrow, Hank, we'll run a few tests later to determine if you're eligible, and lastly, Adam," Charles smiled.
"Welcome to the X-Men."