The control room's red hue had faded to a cold, clinical white. Monitors pulsed softly in the dark, casting reflections across the black metal floor like ghostly veins. The facility had begun to hum again it was alive, obedient, alert.
All For One sat once more in the command chair, fingers laced beneath his chin, his gaze fixed on the central monitor. Around him, the scientists moved more quickly now, their steps more purposeful but not out of confidence, but fear.
He spoke without looking away.
"Where is Jason Stryker?"
The lead scientist paused, nearly dropping the tablet in his hands. "Jason, sir? Subject Zero-Zero-One… is currently cryogenically frozen. Deep sublevel, under full stasis lockdown since Stryker deemed him unstable."
All For One's eyes narrowed behind his mask. Stryker's son. A failed experiment in the old man's eyes… but to him, perhaps something far more valuable.
"What powers does he hold?"
The scientist swallowed hard. "He's a powerful illusionist, my lord. He can create full-spectrum psychic projections, tactile, auditory, and visual. Some victims experienced full-blown psychotic breaks. A few even died. We believe the illusions are psionic in nature… not just sensory tricks, but brain-deep manipulations."
All For One leaned forward, interest piqued.
"Psionic hallucinations," he mused aloud. "Not deception… domination."
He turned slightly, voice cold and methodical.
"Research these illusions. Dissect the brain patterns. If he can make someone believe a lie… then we can manufacture belief itself. Shape loyalty. Suppress rebellion. Bend the will."
The scientist nodded quickly. "We'll begin neurological mapping. Perhaps we can sync Jason's psionic field with the telepath in Cell Zero-Two-Six. If we force a psychic resonance"
"Through any means necessary," All For One interrupted. "Break him open if you have to. But I want results."
As the scientist fled, All For One leaned back into the shadows of his chair. On the screen, Jason Stryker's frozen face dissolved, replaced by older names.
Mystique. Magneto. Charles Xavier.
Each a monument in mutant history.
Mystique: the shapeshifter, impossible to pin down. Useful.
Magneto: powerful, ideological, unstable. Dangerous but possibly… redirectable.
Xavier: the dreamer. The architect of peace. The source of resistance.
Stryker despised that school…
Which meant it had power. Influence. Survivors.
"Perhaps that school holds more than philosophy and promises," All For One murmured. "Perhaps it holds candidates."
He tapped into Stryker's stolen mutant archives. Names rolled across the screen—some crossed out, others marked in red:
Rogue. Colossus. Shadowcat. Cyclops. Nightcrawler. Jean Grey. Iceman.
All of them shaped by Xavier's dream.
"They were taught to fear their power. Taught restraint. Taught balance…"
He rose, staring down into the awakening facility below.
"But balance is weakness. What they need… is a cause. A reason to let go."
Below, pods hissed open. Children emerged—mutants stolen, broken, waiting to be molded.
"They will serve the truth that Stryker tried to bury. The truth that only the ruthless survive evolution."
A terminal beeped.
XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR THE GIFTED – RECON PROTOCOL IN PROGRESS.
Xavier Institute – Nightfall:
The mansion slept beneath a peaceful sky.
But the peace was a lie.
In the treeline just beyond the estate, something moved. Small. Precise. Unseen.
A tiny mechanical insect settled on a branch. Its eyes flashed red.
Recording.
Transmitting.
Back in the facility, All For One watched the feed come online. Jean Grey appeared on-screen, her features taut with unspoken tension. Behind her: Storm. Cyclops. The others.
"So these are the torchbearers of Xavier's dream," he said quietly.
He leaned in.
"Let's see how bright they burn… when the night finally falls."
Cerebro Chamber – Underground:
Jean Grey entered alone. Cerebro's massive core stood silent, glowing faintly. No Charles. No guidance.
He had gone to Genosha. Chasing ghosts.
And with his absence… the dreams had begun.
Jean stood in the heart of the chamber, breath steady, mind opening. Psychic currents swirled and whispers of lives around the world.
But tonight… something was wrong.
There were gaps. Muted zones. Like psychic black holes.
She reached deeper and then she saw it.
A steel corridor. Cryo-pods. Sedated minds.
Muted screams.
And then a red eye opened inside her vision.
A watcher. A mind staring back.
She gasped, staggered, clutching her head.
"Someone's watching…" she whispered. "Someone's… listening."
Student Dormitory – 1:42 A.M.
Jubilee sat on her windowsill, knees tucked in. Below, the security lights flickered again.
Second time.
Across the hall, Iceman shuffled out, hoodie pulled over his head, drinking straight from a milk carton.
"You up?" Jubilee asked.
"Dreams," Bobby muttered. "Metal was screaming."
"...Metal?"
"Yeah. Like it was alive. Screaming through me."
Jubilee narrowed her eyes. "That's the third report this week."
"So?"
"So something's in our heads."
Danger Room Observation Deck
Storm and Cyclops reviewed the surveillance feed.
No breaches. No intrusions. And yet every system felt… compromised.
Storm pointed at the data.
"Thermal glitches. EM fluctuations. Barely noticeable but too frequent."
"You think it's mutant cloaking?" Scott asked.
"Or tech we haven't seen before."
He crossed his arms. "What about Charles?"
"Unreachable."
"Cerebro?"
"Jean says it's being jammed."
The Next Morning – War Room
Jean stood before the gathered X-Men.
"I made contact. Not an accident. Someone wanted to be seen."
She paused.
"I felt mutants, children, they were sedated. Suppressed. It was surgical. Clinical."
Beast's expression darkened. "Not religion. Infrastructure."
Storm clenched her jaw. "And Charles is walking into it blind."
Cyclops stood.
"Then we go after him."
"No," Jean said. "Not yet. This wasn't a trap for Charles."
She tapped the map. Genosha. Eastern Conflict Zones.
"This is a trap for us."
Surveillance Drone POV – Live Feed
Inside the war room, Jean's face filled the frame.
Focused. Calm.
But All For One saw more.
He saw cracks.
He saw opportunity.
"They believe they're safe behind philosophy and promises…"
He leaned forward.
"But they haven't yet met the world as it truly is."
He tapped his command console.
"Prepare the first test run. Activate Subject 001. Let the dreamers taste illusion. Let them question what's real."