"What's in it?" Ethan asked, turning the flash drive over in his palm with curiosity.
"Some research data on the mutant X-gene," Professor X replied with a knowing smile. "Not a lot, but it should be useful to you."
Professor X studied Ethan for a moment before chuckling. "You've been recruiting genetic scientists, securing funding, and removing key members from the Hellfire Club. You're clearly trying to conduct your own X-gene research."
Ethan didn't hesitate. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing."
There was no point in hiding it from Professor X. If anything, Charles already knew. And as for Erik?
Well, given his complicated relationship with the professor—always at odds but never fully cutting ties—there was no telling when he'd spill the truth himself.
"You're on the right path," Charles said with approval. "I imagine you've wondered why we never pursued serious X-gene research before. I built a safe haven for mutants, yet never made it a priority. You must've questioned that."
"I have, yeah," Ethan admitted.
"There were many reasons." Charles' expression grew more serious. "It wasn't just a matter of technology. Erik and I were dealing with government hostility, public fear, and dangerous mutant factions like the Hellfire Club. Simply keeping mutants united drained most of our energy.
"When Hank began research into mutant genetics, even he hesitated. We feared that any breakthrough could be used against us rather than for us. The risks outweighed the potential rewards."
Ethan nodded in understanding. "That makes sense. Sometimes, the era itself limits what can be done."
"I'm not telling you this to excuse our generation," Charles continued, his tone shifting. "I'm telling you because you need to understand the world we're in now. Chaos is coming. The next era could be either the most dangerous or the most promising for mutants—and it's yours to shape."
Ethan tightened his grip on the flash drive. "I know. If we miss this window, the technological explosion in the upcoming years could leave mutants behind forever."
Charles placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't carry all the burden alone. We're still here to guide you."
Ethan exhaled, loosening his grip slightly. "Got it."
"For now, leave the search for Apocalypse to Hank and Erik's Brotherhood. You've done enough. Take a few days off and wait for updates."
Ethan smirked. "If you insist."
With Xavier and Magneto involved, the search would be far more efficient. And a few days of rest? He wouldn't complain.
Of course, "rest" didn't mean staying idle.
The legend of the Student Council President returning to class spread across the academy like wildfire.
The one who had been out on missions for so long, known only by reputation, had finally stepped into a classroom.
It was said that on his first day back, students from other classes skipped their own lectures just to peek through the windows, eager to catch a glimpse of the academy's most infamous mutant.
Rumors flared up instantly.
One claimed that the leader of the Lionheart Club—the very faction that had split from the Student Council—lowered his head and called him "Boss" without hesitation.
Another whispered that the club's co-founder had once had a girlfriend who fell for Ethan, only for him to reject her, leaving her to settle for the Lionheart leader instead.
"No way," one student gasped. "That's some real love-triangle drama!"
"What kind of love triangle? Don't forget about Katie, the vice president of the student council. This is nothing!"
"You guys are making stuff up. I'm from the Lionheart Club, and if nothing else, I can tell you the rumors about our president are absolute nonsense. I have proof—his and the other president's personal notebooks. Want to see for yourself?"
"So, here you are, whispering gossip in the shadows, while some Lionheart Club member hoards a pile of journals to blackmail his leaders?
Caught you! Don't even think about running. I'm turning you in, and once the Lionheart deals with you, I'll take your spot. Haha!"
"Man, the drama among the top dogs is something else. Meanwhile, us first-years are just trying to survive."
For all the rumors swirling around campus, Ethan, the main subject of all the speculation, didn't seem fazed.
He didn't need to be.
Even from a distance, students fell silent the moment they saw him, too intimidated to keep gossiping.
He wasn't sure if whispers of his exploits outside the academy had made their way back or if Katie and the others had just been too active in shaping his reputation.
Either way, at some point, the so-called playful and absentee student council president had become something of a legendary figure.
As Ethan wandered the academy grounds, he realized just how much things had changed lately.
His fallout with Stryker had forced the President McKenna, caught between factions, to finally have a serious sit-down with Professor X.
The result?
The mutant academy now operated in a far more open and legitimate way.
Its website openly advertised it as a school for mutants, recruiting students from all over.
The world was in chaos, but that chaos had shifted attention away from mutants.
With the public and the government distracted by other crises, mutants had a little more breathing room.
Because of this shift, young mutants arrived at the academy in greater numbers than ever before.
The student body was growing fast, and with that growth came new systems.
Katie and John & Bobby had founded the Student Council and the Lionheart Club, while the newly introduced credit system helped compensate for the shortage of experienced teachers.
Lost in thought, Ethan unknowingly wandered into a large hall, where holographic screens displayed an array of available missions.
Groups of students gathered, reviewing information and accepting assignments.
The mission hall.
Compared to what Katie had shown him before, the system had clearly been upgraded.
"Student President Ethan. Didn't expect to see you here."
A deep voice rumbled from behind him.
Ethan turned to find himself staring up at a towering figure—nearly seven feet tall—clad in a full suit of knight armor.
"Pete," Ethan said, raising an eyebrow. "Still haven't taken that thing off, huh?"
"With your size and that armor, doesn't it get a little inconvenient?"
Pete, a.k.a, Piotr, a.k.a Collosus, let out a chuckle. "You make a fair point. Guess I should put it away."
He placed a hand over his chest, and in a flash of golden light, the armor vanished, transforming into an ancient-looking yellow badge that rested in his palm.
"The sorcerers upgraded your magic armor? That's pretty convenient," Ethan noted, eyeing the badge with curiosity.
"During a bombing mission, I saved an old sorcerer who didn't make it to a portal in time. Turns out, he specialized in magical artifacts, so he improved my armor for me," Pete explained, rolling the badge between his fingers.
"I like it, but there's one issue. To activate it, I have to chant a spell, and you know how most of those incantations are a pain to pronounce. I've been thinking about changing it. Got any ideas?"
Ethan smirked. "How about 'Colossus, Transform Go!' or maybe 'Colossus, Armor Evolved!'"
Pete stared at him in silence.
"Okay, okay, I'm joking," Ethan laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Here for a mission?"
"Yeah, just about to pick one," Pete replied, reaching for a holographic screen and pulling up an A-rank assignment.
The screen displayed footage of a soldier in a red mask wielding two katanas, effortlessly fighting off several heavily armed mercenaries.
Ethan blinked in surprise. 'Wait… that's—Deadpool?!'
Deadpool was a mutant with an accelerated healing factor. In principle, plenty of mutants had regenerative abilities, but none quite like him.
Of course, that wasn't because he could break the fourth wall—no matter how much he insisted otherwise.
That concept was way too abstract. And let's be real, he wasn't just some fictional character in a Marvel comic.
So from Ethan's perspective, besides strange cases like Deadpool and the occasional philosopher pondering if they were a butterfly in a dream, nobody else would be crazy enough to question reality like that.
What truly made Deadpool unique in Ethan's eyes wasn't his power but how he got it. Unlike naturally awakened mutants, Wade Wilson became a mutant through forced experimentation.
Ethan had invested massive resources into genetic research, bringing in top-tier scientists and funneling money into studying mutant biology.
He had even shared some experimental data with Emma Frost just days ago.
But the X-gene was no simple puzzle to crack.
Meanwhile, Thor had already arrived, which meant the Battle of New York was on the horizon.
The world was about to enter the interstellar age, and if Ethan wanted results, his research had to move faster.
And now, right on cue, Deadpool appeared.
There was no way Ethan would let this opportunity slip.
Wade Wilson himself—and the people who made him—could provide the missing link Ethan was searching for.
"You're looking for Deadpool?" Ethan asked, shifting his focus to Pete.
"Yeah. I've had a few run-ins with him," Pete admitted, sensing Ethan's growing interest.
"Whenever he shows up, it's usually a bloodbath. But to be fair, most of the people he kills are dangerous criminals or terrorists. So, I wouldn't exactly call him evil."
Pete hesitated before continuing.
"The professor is also interested in him. Deadpool's mind blocks telepathic scans, and the professor wants to understand why. That's why I was assigned to bring him in for a meeting."
"And?" Ethan prompted.
Pete scratched his head. "He wasn't exactly cooperative. So… it's been slow going."
Ethan chuckled. "Sounds like a hassle. Guess I'll tag along."
"Well, that's a rare sight. Didn't think our student council president had time for minor missions." A teasing voice cut in.
Only one person in the academy spoke to Ethan like that—Katie.
"What are you doing here?" Ethan turned to her, surprised.
"I was actually about to ask Katie for help," Pete explained. "Since we're all part of the student council." He smirked. "But if you're coming too, even better."
"Great, then let's go. Where are we headed? I'll drive!" Ethan declared, clapping his hands as he strode for the exit.
Behind him, Katie and Pete exchanged a horrified glance.
♪ Hey, yeah, I wanna shoop, baby! ♪
♪ Shoop, shoop, ba-doop! ♪
♪ Ummm, you're packed and you're stacked... ♪
A lively tune echoed over an overpass in downtown New York.
Perched on the edge, a man clad in red and black spandex lazily swung his legs in time with the music.
A pair of katanas rested on his back, while a white piece of paper sat in his lap as he sketched with a crayon.
"Hi, I'm Francis the Stupid," Deadpool muttered as he doodled.
Satisfied with his masterpiece—a crude cartoon of himself shooting his enemy—he grinned and added his own dramatic narration.