Let me know your opinions on the comments.
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In downtown Salem, Westchester County, New York State.
"The UN remains divided over the future of the territory of the former nation of Genosha, devastated after the Sentinels' attack. It is estimated that more than 16 million mutants died alongside their leader, Magneto. Meanwhile, the BRICS bloc is pressing to have a say in the decision…"
A young man's hand slid the screen without much interest.
"The body of a young mutant was found on the banks of the Hudson River. Detective Charlotte Jones declared it could be a hate crime. The victim, James Archer, 13 years old, showed multiple bruises…"
Another swipe of the thumb.
"Protests outside the Office of Mutant Affairs. The demonstrators demand an investigation into the Genetech case, denouncing sabotage of what they call 'the definitive solution' to the world's problems…"
Another mechanical swipe.
"Cancellation of Dazzler's upcoming concert? Possible causes…"
Mercer barely raised an eyebrow and swiped again.
Inside a black sedan, in the back seat, the young Caucasian kept his head resting against the window, letting the car take him through the streets of downtown Salem toward the outskirts.
"The Avengers…"
Another headline, another swipe.
—Young man…
—Mercer.
—Yes, of course… Mr. Mercer. We're approaching the address you gave.
The teenager lifted his eyes from the screen. Through the windshield, the roundabout opened up before them. On the sidewalk, a large wrought-iron gate displayed an imposing name.
"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. So… here we are."
—Would you like me to drive straight in? —asked the driver.
—Hm… yes, go to the gate —Mercer replied after checking one last message on his phone.
The gates opened slowly, and the vehicle rolled inside.
Through the window, the young man watched the endless stretch of gardens, the lush greenery that seemed to swallow the horizon.
After a long drive, the mansion came into view: imposing, perfect, like something out of another world.
Mercer frowned. To him, it was nothing more than a cage with golden bars, a place that would confine him for the rest of his life.
—I've never been this close to a mansion with such luxury… —murmured the driver, still in awe—. Surely you'll enjoy your stay.
Mercer leaned back in his seat, gazing one last time at the façade.
"More like a prison…" he thought bitterly.
The car pulled up to the entrance roundabout. After paying for the ride and unloading his bags, Evan walked toward the mansion's porch, where a man was already waiting with a confident smile.
—Ah… you must be Mr. Evan Mercer, oui? —he said, extending his hand—. My name is Remy Etienne LeBeau, but call me Remy. Enchanté.
—A pleasure —Evan replied, shaking his hand.
—Come, follow me. I'll take you to the dean's office. There you'll learn your schedule, your classes, the rules, and where you'll be staying.
As they entered, the main lobby greeted them with solemnity. It was enormous, with an archaic yet elegant air: polished wooden finishes, a red velvet carpet, shelves stacked with books, and tastefully arranged sofas. The grand staircase split in two at the back, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, scattering light in sparkling flashes. Marble and bronze sculptures completed the scene.
Remy noticed Evan's look of awe and nudged him playfully:
—Yeah, Remy had the same face the first time he walked in here. So much luxury so close! Hard to resist, huh? But don't worry, you'll get used to it.
—I guess… —Evan said, rubbing his arm, uneasy.
As they moved along, Evan admired the paintings hanging on the walls, portraits and landscapes from past eras.
—Follow me, the office is on the second floor —Remy indicated, stepping ahead toward the staircase.
—And you… are you a teacher here? —Evan asked.
Remy let out a soft laugh and shrugged.
—No, kid. Remy isn't a teacher. Let's just say… I'm the delivery guy.
—I didn't know schools had that position… —Evan said, puzzled.
—Ah, kid, let's just say this isn't exactly your normal kind of school —Remy replied, amused.
Evan smiled:
—You're right.
Remy gave him a pat on the back and they kept walking along the second-floor hallway. The walls were adorned with paintings and display cases, making every step feel like a journey into a world full of history and secrets.
—So… what's your story, kid? —asked Remy.
—Nothing complicated. Just a boy frustrated about missing this year's MTB calendar… and maybe the next ones too —Evan answered with a sigh.
—MTB? —Remy asked, curious.
—Yeah, mountain bike competitions. Every year I'd compete in the junior division… until, you know… —Evan said, with a touch of sadness.
Remy observed him attentively, smiling knowingly.
—Believe it or not, here you'll find plenty who understand what you've gone through. And don't think I don't know you're hiding something else… but relax, I won't ask. Everyone's got their own stuff —he said, letting slip a hint of a mysterious past.
Evan thought: A man with secrets, in a place full of young people with powers. Maybe I won't miss competing that much this year…
When they reached the intersection of the left wing of the second floor, just before the principal's office, Remy placed a hand on his shoulder.
—Listen, kid… I like you. A word of advice before you go in: either of the two you'll find in there can be… peculiar. One of them is pretty intense, so it might feel a bit suffocating.
One of them? Evan thought.
—And the other one… let's just say, keep an eye on the hand you use when playing around near her. —Remy added, pulling a deck of cards from his pocket and performing a small trick— You're about to meet someone special, so step carefully —he continued, slipping the deck back in with a grin.
—But they're good people, I give you my word. Well… at least one of them, I'm sure —Remy said, raising his hand in farewell—. See you around the mansion.
Evan watched him walk away, took a deep breath, straightened his expression, and approached the office door.
Here we go… he told himself.
—Come in! —a voice called from inside.
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