The system interface hovering before Liam's eyes was clean and straightforward, almost deceptively simple given what it represented. There were no complicated menus or overwhelming data streams—just a few clear lines that told him everything he needed to know.
His current ability level sat at Lv.3.
In terms of mutant classification, that placed him at a Level Three mutant—solid, but far from extraordinary by Xavier Institute standards. However, Liam knew better than to take that at face value. Vector manipulation wasn't the kind of ability that could be judged purely by level; even at a lower tier, its applications were already absurd.
His gaze shifted to the experience bar beneath it.
1000/0.
It didn't take much thought to interpret.
That was the requirement to reach Level Four.
One thousand experience points.
That meant he was already at the threshold. As long as he could gain enough experience, he would break through to the next level immediately. The realization sent a surge of excitement through him, his pulse quickening slightly.
"So leveling up works like this…" he thought, a faint grin forming. "That's going to make things interesting."
"Come with me, Wes."
Storm's voice pulled him back to reality. She turned her head slightly, offering him a calm smile as she motioned for him to follow.
"Oh—right. Got it, Professor Ororo," Liam replied, snapping out of his thoughts. He quickly fell into step behind her, his movements light and relaxed as if nothing unusual had happened.
Behind them, Cyclops remained where he stood, his gaze lingering on Liam's retreating figure. After a moment, he turned slightly toward Professor Xavier.
"Professor," he said quietly, "what do you think of his ability?"
Charles watched the hallway for a second longer before speaking, a faint smile touching his lips.
"It's promising," he said. "Very promising. But it's not as simple as he described."
Cyclops tilted his head slightly. "You don't think it's just reflection?"
Charles shook his head gently. "No. What he showed us was only the surface. Even he may not fully understand what he's capable of yet."
That wasn't unusual.
When mutants first awakened their abilities, their understanding was often incomplete or even inaccurate. Misinterpretation, limitations in perception—these were all part of the early stages. That was precisely why the academy existed: to guide them, to refine their control, and to help them uncover the true nature of their powers.
Cyclops didn't respond, but the slight shift in his posture made it clear he understood the implication.
This wasn't just another student.
Elsewhere, Liam walked beside Storm down one of the academy's long corridors, the polished floor reflecting the soft daylight streaming in from the windows. The atmosphere was calm, but his curiosity was steadily building.
"By the way, Professor Ororo," he asked, glancing at her, "how exactly are we testing my ability?"
Storm smiled faintly, her expression reassuring.
"We'll start with a physical evaluation—basic body condition, response thresholds, and the strength of your reflective capability," she explained. "After that, I'll have Jean assist us for more detailed analysis."
Liam nodded thoughtfully.
That made sense. If his ability involved external interaction, then measuring its limits was essential. And if Jean Grey was involved, that meant things might get a little more precise.
Before he could ask anything else, a sudden burst of voices cut through the hallway.
"Wes, you're awake!"
"Are you okay?"
"Did you finally awaken your ability?"
Several girls rushed toward him from the side corridor, their expressions filled with concern and excitement. They quickly surrounded him, their questions overlapping as they tried to get answers all at once.
Liam blinked, slightly caught off guard, before breaking into an easy smile.
"I'm fine, really," he said, raising a hand slightly in a calming gesture. "Thanks for worrying about me."
During his six months at the academy, he had unintentionally built a reputation.
It wasn't because of strength—at least not before now.
It was his appearance.
There was something universally appealing about him, a kind of sharp, balanced attractiveness that didn't lean too heavily into any one style. His features were clean and well-defined, his posture relaxed but confident, and his overall presence carried a quiet charm that naturally drew attention.
At 1.82 meters tall, he stood out without seeming imposing. His build, once on the lean side, had subtly filled out, the faint outline of muscle visible beneath his sleeves. It wasn't excessive, but it gave him a sense of quiet strength.
It wasn't surprising that he had caught the attention of many of the female students.
Of course, that attention came with a cost.
Not everyone appreciated it.
Before his ability awakened, he had been an easy target for those who valued power above all else. Some of the more aggressive students had made a habit of looking down on him, and there had been more than a few instances of harassment.
Fortunately, things had never escalated too far.
Someone had always stepped in.
"Alright, everyone," Storm said, her tone firm but not harsh as she stepped slightly forward. "You should all head to class. I'm taking Wes to the testing area."
A chorus of disappointed reactions followed immediately.
"I knew it—he definitely awakened something!"
"What is it? Come on, tell us!"
"Professor Ororo, can't we come watch?"
Storm shook her head, folding her arms lightly.
"Not this time," she said. "His ability needs to remain confidential for now."
The group reluctantly backed off, though their curiosity was far from satisfied.
Liam simply smiled, saying nothing.
So Professor Xavier had already decided to keep his ability under wraps.
That suited him just fine.
Just as the crowd began to disperse, another group approached from the opposite direction.
This time, the mood shifted.
At the front was John Allerdyce—Pyro—his expression carrying a familiar edge of arrogance. Among the students, his strength ranked near the top, and he had never made any effort to hide his disdain for those he considered weak.
Especially someone like Liam—at least, before yesterday.
"Well, this is unexpected," John said as he stepped closer, his tone laced with mock amusement. "Didn't think you'd actually awaken anything."
Liam didn't even bother looking at him directly.
Instead, he turned slightly toward Storm.
"Professor Ororo, let's go," he said calmly, as if John wasn't even there.
That dismissal landed harder than any insult.
John's expression darkened instantly.
"Hey," he snapped, reaching out and grabbing Liam's shoulder. "I'm talking to you."
The moment his hand made contact, everything changed.
A sharp, invisible force surged through his arm.
"Ah—!"
John screamed as if struck by lightning, his body jerking violently. He recoiled instantly, clutching his arm as he stumbled backward, his face contorted in pain.
The sudden outburst froze everyone in place.
Storm's expression shifted immediately, her brows drawing together as she stepped forward.
"What happened?" she demanded.
John couldn't even form a proper sentence.
"My arm… my arm—!" he gasped, gripping it tightly.
All eyes turned to his limb.
It was twisted unnaturally, the angle clearly wrong.
Broken.
Storm's confusion deepened, her gaze flicking between John and Liam.
"What just happened?" she asked again, more sharply this time.
Liam raised his hand slightly, his expression turning apologetic.
"I'm sorry, Professor," he said. "I couldn't control it properly. My ability… it reacted on its own."
The explanation left several students stunned.
From their perspective, Liam hadn't moved at all.
John had simply touched him—and then his arm had snapped.
It didn't make sense.
But Storm remembered.
Reflection.
John had applied force when he grabbed Liam's shoulder.
And that force… had been sent back.
Her expression eased slightly as understanding settled in.
Given that Liam had only just awakened his ability, a lack of control was entirely expected. Accidental backlash wasn't unusual under those circumstances.
"You two," she said, turning to the nearby students, "take John to Jean immediately. That arm needs treatment before it gets worse."
The boys nodded quickly, moving to support John as he continued groaning in pain.
With the academy's medical resources, an injury like that wasn't permanent.
But the message had already been delivered.
Liam Hayes was no longer someone anyone could casually put their hands on.