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Chapter 18 - Wolverine and the X-Men issue 4 Evan

After the first week of classes finally wrapped up, Dante found himself sitting at his usual spot, quietly trying to blend in. Things had been going… fine, he guessed. As fine as they could go for a school full of superpowered students. But today, something was a little different. There was someone sitting next to him—someone new.

Dante glanced sideways casually. The new guy was hard not to notice. He had dark skin, thick black hair, and a presence about him that Dante couldn't immediately place. But the more he stared, the more a weird feeling crept up his spine.

Where have I seen him before? Dante thought, his brain already sifting through all the research he'd done about mutants and the X-Men after joining the school. He made sure to learn about the big names and even the lesser-known ones—but something about this guy was setting off alarm bells.

He kind of looks like… No. No way. I'm overthinking it.

Before Dante could spiral any further, Kitty Pryde stood up in front of the giant digital screen at the front of the classroom and clapped her hands for attention.

"Alright, class, settle down!" she called. "We have a new student with us today. Let's all say hello to Genesis."

Dante snapped his gaze back toward the new kid—Genesis. That was his name. Genesis looked a little awkward under the attention but gave a small polite nod.

"Hello," he said, his voice calm but a little uncertain. "You can call me Evan."

Dante blinked. Genesis… Evan…

Before he could dig deeper into that confusing name combination, he heard the low murmur of two students whispering behind him.

"Is it just me, or does he totally look like—"

"It's not just you," the second one answered immediately.

Damn Dante thought, it's not just me. Someone else noticed it too but are they really thinking about the same guy as me?

Before anyone could dwell on the unsettling resemblance longer, Broo, sitting nearby with an eager sparkle in his eye, stood up enthusiastically.

"Ms. Pryde, if I may," Broo said, adjusting his glasses with a clawed hand, "I would just like to take this opportunity to personally welcome Genesis—and say that I hope he finds these surroundings as intellectually stimulating as I have."

"Why thank you, Broo," Evan replied, smiling faintly.

The moment of wholesomeness was immediately crushed when Quentin Quire leaned back in his chair lazily, flashing his usual arrogant smirk while wearing a ridiculous shirt that read WAKE ME WHEN THE HUMANS ARE DEAD.

"Hmph. Knew Brood were good at eating people's asses. Didn't realize they were so good at kissing them too," Quentin muttered loud enough for half the class to hear.

But to everyone's amazement, Broo didn't take offense. Instead, he smiled and responded in full sincerity,

"I recognize your attempts at good-natured ribbing, friend Quentin. And may I just say, I appreciate the sentiment."

Quentin narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Broo like he was personally offended by the politeness.

"When the revolution comes, you'll be first against the wall, sleazy."

Broo merely beamed. "Why, thank you. That sounds like a tremendous honor."

Kitty Pryde sighed heavily, clearly already regretting her career choices today.

"Alright, keep it down over there, and let's open the books to chapter three," she said, swiping the screen to reveal today's lesson.

Meanwhile, Kid Gladiator, who had been slouching with boredom the whole time, leaned forward toward Evan, clearly sizing him up like a piece of meat.

"You, frail one," Kid said bluntly. "What are your powers?"

Evan straightened up a little and answered carefully, "Well… my uncle tells me I can do anything I set my mind to."

Kid Gladiator scoffed, waving a dismissive hand.

"Your uncle sounds like an idiot."

Evan stiffened, clearly not used to such blunt cruelty.

"What? Why would you say such a—"

Kid cut him off without hesitation, voice carrying across the class.

"The standards at this school are abysmal. At a Shi'ar academy, someone like you—and Broo—would never have even been permitted through the doors, let alone allowed to congregate with warriors such as myself.

His parents, if they were admirable, would have set him adrift on an asteroid as an infant and left him to rot among the stars."

The words hung in the air awkwardly. Evan looked completely blindsided.

"I… I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?" Evan asked, turning helplessly.

Before the mood could sour even further, Idie, sitting next to him, spoke up softly but firmly.

"It's okay," she said, offering a gentle smile. "Don't let them bother you. We're all devils and monsters here. Same as you."

Evan nodded slowly, but Dante could see the doubt still lingering in his eyes. This must be hell for him, Dante thought. Poor guy.

Feeling bad, Dante leaned over toward Evan and spoke in a low voice.

"Please ignore them," Dante said sincerely. "Those two they have their issues. Actually, to be fair, everyone in this school has issues… including me. But trust me. There's good people here. You just gotta give it a little time. I think you'll like it."

Evan blinked at him, surprised at the kindness, but eventually gave a small, relieved smile.

"But just a heads-up," Dante added with a crooked grin. "I might actually be the only real devil here."

Evan tilted his head in confusion at that.

"I'll explain later," Dante whispered, flashing a wink.

And with that, they both settled back into their seats as Kitty droned on about today's lesson.

A couple of minutes later, after the chaotic introduction to Genesis settled down, Kitty returned to the front of the classroom, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention.

"All right, can the chitchat. Don't make me turn your vocal cords intangible," she said with a teasing but half-serious tone.

The students settled down, most looking curiously toward the front.

"We have a special guest lecturer today, a friend of our headmaster's. So let's all give our undivided attention to Mr… um…" she stumbled, looking awkwardly at the towering figure who had just stepped inside.

"Deathlok," the cyborg said in a deep, mechanical voice, saving her from any further embarrassment.

He walked to the center of the room, standing tall with metallic limbs shining under the lights. "Greetings, mutant youngsters. I am Deathlok Unit L17, manufactured by Roxxon in the year 2030.

I have come to talk to you today about the future."

The students exchanged curious and uneasy glances.

"The future is a violent and terrible place. Know now that at least 43.6897% of you will die before reaching adulthood," Deathlok stated flatly.

A few jaws dropped. Kitty nervously laughed, trying to cut in quickly.

"All right, well… that's an awfully specific percentage, but obviously the future is filled with endless possibilities that no one can accurately predict, so—"

"Correction," Deathlok interrupted without hesitation. "This unit is equipped with tachyon probability generators and thus can calculate exact statistical forecasts for all possible future timelines. For example…"

Kitty put her hand to her forehead, whispering under her breath, "Okay, I really don't think we should—"

But Deathlok had already begun.

"Idie Okonkwo. There is a 34.7% chance you will live to become leader of the X-Men.

And a 39.7% chance you will die in the next six weeks at the hands of the Hellfire Club."

Idie, sitting near Dante, blinked twice, then calmly raised her hand.

"Can you tell if I go to hell or not?" she asked deadpan, making some students snicker awkwardly.

Deathlok ignored her and turned his mechanical gaze toward Quentin Quire.

"Quentin Quire. 38.9% chance you are expelled within the year. 67.3% chance you first burn this entire school to the ground."

Quentin leaned back in his chair with a wide grin.

"Sounds about right to me."

The classroom buzzed with mixed reactions—some students laughing nervously, others shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Then Deathlok shifted his focus again.

"Kubark, son of Gladiator, Prince of the Shi'ar.

45.8% chance you will one day fight alongside the Avengers.

46.8% chance you will one day fight against them."

Kid Gladiator slammed his hand on the desk excitedly.

"Ha! I'll take it either way!"

"Broodling, son of Brood," Deathlok continued.

"22.3% chance that in the next three years you will discover a cure for cancer.

34.7% chance that during that same time you will murder and consume at least four of your classmates."

Broo adjusted his glasses, looking fascinated rather than disturbed.

"Well, that is rather… fascinating," he said with genuine curiosity.

Dante chuckled quietly from his seat—only at Broo's reaction, not Deathlok's brutal prediction. He was already used to how strange this school was becoming.

Then, to Dante's mild surprise, Deathlok's glowing eyes locked onto him.

"Dante Navarro.

49.7% chance that you will become one of the greatest champions of mutants in history.

21% chance that you will be dragged to hell.

1% chance that you will die when you take the extremely risky chance to increase your life embers into life flames again."

Dante stiffened slightly.

Ray, what is he talking about? he asked immediately through their mental bond.

Ray: He's referring to a method. There is a way to force your embers to grow into real flames again.

But the process is insanely dangerous. That 1% chance isn't about success or failure—it's literally the odds of you even agreeing to attempt it. Otherwise, it's instant death.

Dante's mind processed the explanation quickly.

He relaxed slightly—if the risk was that extreme, then it wasn't something he would just stumble into. It was a conscious choice.

And as for the "dragged to hell" part…

Well, after reading the X-Men files and learning about how often the X-Men had literally gone to hell or fought demons, it wasn't even the weirdest thing he'd heard.

At this point, Hell was just another bad neighborhood, Dante thought dryly.

But then Deathlok shifted again.

"Owen Maddox.

45.1% chance that you will stand among mutantkind's greatest champions beside Dante Navarro.

2% chance that you will attempt to kill Dante Navarro from jealousy.

3% chance that you will surpass Dante Navarro."

Owen, sitting a few rows back, froze.

The words hit him harder than he expected.

Owen felt his heart drop the moment he heard the words.

45% chance he would stand alongside Dante? That sounded great… until he heard the next parts.

The thought of turning against Dante—his best friend, the brother he chose—twisted in his gut.

He wasn't scared of betraying him.

He was scared because deep down, he knew he had already started feeling like he was being left behind.

Ever since Dante's powers awakened, he had been sprinting ahead—faster, stronger, more skilled.

It wasn't just physical.

Dante had this… presence now.

It made Owen feel smaller by comparison, like a background character in a story he was supposed to be a part of.

Even during training, Owen pushed himself harder and harder, trying to catch up, trying to matter as much.

He hated himself for even thinking like that.

But the feeling was real.

The fear that one day Dante wouldn't need him anymore.

And now, Deathlok's prediction forced him to confront it head-on.

But the rest…

To stand equal? To possibly surpass the best friend he admired, but sometimes felt dwarfed by?

Owen clutched the desk edge with a determined grin spreading across his face.

He would make sure he was the 45%. He would earn it.

Quentin clapped his hands loudly and stood up.

"Ha! This is great. Finally, a class worth staying awake for. Who's next?"

Deathlok, seemingly finished, simply turned and said,

"This concludes the lecture."

Without another word, he marched out of the room, his heavy steps echoing in the stunned silence he left behind.

Almost immediately, Evan raised his hand awkwardly.

"Ms. Pryde, can I… uh… use the restroom?"

Kitty, who looked like she needed a moment herself, just nodded without comment.

Evan quickly got up and slipped out after Deathlok.

Dante tilted his head slightly, watching him leave.

That was… weird.

But he didn't dwell on it too much. If there was one thing he'd learned, it was that nothing about mutant life was ever normal.

The next morning, Kitty introduced another "new" student.

The original Angel—except he looked younger.

Everyone was clearly confused, but Kitty barely got two words out before she suddenly covered her mouth and bolted from the classroom without explanation.

Dante blinked.

"Okay. Seriously. This place is cursed," he muttered under his breath.

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