"Sir, our team has already arrived at Xavier's School. Dr. Hank McCoy, head of the Mutant Affairs Division, is currently negotiating on-site."
Beside the black-coated man, a still–receding-but-not-yet-hopeless Agent Coulson delivered his report with practiced efficiency.
"How is Professor Charles Xavier?"
Nick Fury's tone was calm, almost indifferent.
But Coulson couldn't hide his surprise.
"Our intel says Professor Xavier was attacked earlier by Mystique. He had only just regained consciousness when our agents arrived… But sir—how did you already know he was injured?"
Fury didn't answer.
What was he supposed to say?
That the very existence of Xavier's School was the result of a private agreement between him and Charles? That Charles had agreed to help him handle mutant-related incidents, while S.H.I.E.L.D. covered for the X-Men's operations?
Over the years, the X-Men had acted again and again—cleaning up threats far beyond S.H.I.E.L.D.'s direct reach. In return, S.H.I.E.L.D. handled the aftermath, the cover-ups, the politics.
In a sense—
The X-Men were S.H.I.E.L.D.'s unofficial strike team.
And now, with something this massive unfolding…
Three core X-Men were present.
But Charles was not.
Which meant only one thing—
Magneto had learned.
He had removed the biggest obstacle first.
"Patch a live feed of the situation here to him," Fury said finally. "Tell him I can buy him five minutes. No more."
With that, he stepped aside, pulling out his communicator. On the other end, the President of the United States and representatives from the Security Council were already waiting.
"Give me a few more minutes!" Fury barked. "This is New York! Are you seriously going to bomb your own people in front of the entire world?!"
Even from a distance, Coulson could hear the anger in his voice.
But he said nothing.
Instead, he turned his gaze toward Liberty Island—
Where the sky and earth seemed to be tearing themselves apart.
Three immense psychic forces had fused into one chaotic storm.
Nothing could approach it.
Everything it touched was shredded, twisted, erased.
The scale was apocalyptic—
Like a god descending upon the mortal world.
Yet within that chaos—
In a realm unseen—
A different battle was unfolding.
…
Inside a shared psychic domain—
A world belonging only to Peter, Jean, and Wanda—
Their intertwined consciousnesses formed a strange, dreamlike landscape.
A fiery phoenix circled around Peter, its crimson wings blazing with untamed power.
A seductive witch rested in his arms, her presence soft, intoxicating—fulfilling every desire he could imagine.
It was beautiful.
Dangerously so.
Until—
A voice.
Ancient. Vast.
It echoed across the sky.
And in that instant—
The illusion shattered.
The three of them awoke.
…
Far from the battlefield—
In a quiet estate in Westchester County, on the outskirts of New York—
Chaos had reached Xavier's School.
The younger students, who should have been asleep, were now gathered together under the supervision of older ones, confined safely inside their rooms.
Outside—
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in full tactical gear guarded every corner of the estate.
Deep underground—
Inside a spherical chamber that resembled a hollowed-out globe—
An old man sat in a wheelchair, his face pale with exhaustion.
With trembling hands, he removed a device from his head.
"...Hank."
His voice was weak.
Even turning his wheelchair required assistance.
Behind him stood a blue-furred figure in a formal suit—broad, imposing, yet refined.
Beast.
Hank McCoy.
Hearing the call, Hank stepped forward immediately, gently turning Charles around.
"What happened?"
Charles let out a weary breath.
"They've awakened… Heh. Erik prepared too well this time. We were almost… defeated."
A bitter smile crossed his face.
His oldest friend—
And greatest rival—
Had nearly outmaneuvered him completely.
But in the end—
The game wasn't over.
"Hank… I need your help."
Charles leaned back weakly in his chair.
"I need you to bring someone here."
"Him? You mean Erik?"
Charles shook his head slowly.
"No."
"That boy."
"The one with Scott and the others…"
His eyes sharpened slightly despite his fatigue.
"Peter… Parker."
He reached out, gripping Hank's arm tightly, his voice firm despite his weakened state.
"His power… is far greater than we imagined."
"We need him."
Charles hesitated.
There were things he could not say.
Not even to Hank—his closest friend for decades.
The truth about Jean.
About the Phoenix.
About the personality he had sealed away deep within her mind—
That secret could never be revealed.
But Peter—
In that brief moment of psychic contact—
Charles had seen something astonishing.
The Phoenix within Jean—
Instead of rampaging without restraint after losing control—
Had shown…
Dependence.
Like a newborn creature imprinting on the first being it sees.
And that being—
Was Peter.
The Phoenix Force was too dangerous.
Years ago, when Charles first encountered it, he had made a decision—
It must never be allowed to fully awaken.
But now—
He was losing control.
Only one possibility remained.
"Only he…"
Charles's voice grew hoarse, yet resolute.
"Only he can save us."
A pause.
"Save this world."
--------------
T/N:
Support the Story and Read 30+ Chapters early on P@treon:👉[email protected]/MPHFics