Dante sat quietly near the back of the classroom, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back just enough to look relaxed—though he wasn't entirely. The lights in the room buzzed faintly overhead, and the scent of cheap markers and dry-erase boards filled the air. In front of him, the lesson was in full swing… or more specifically, the student reports were.
At the front of the class, Idie Okonkwo stood with practiced poise, her voice calm, deliberate, and without any unnecessary embellishment. She wasn't one for dramatic delivery, but her presence had a quiet confidence that kept the room from falling into disarray. Even Quentin wasn't making any sarcastic comments—for now.
"The Phoenix is a force of cosmic destruction," Idie began.
Dante raised an eyebrow. That got his attention. Cosmic destruction wasn't exactly the usual student project topic.
"Sometimes it takes the form of a big, fiery bird," she continued. "Other times, it bonds with a host. Like Jean Grey."
Dante sat up a little straighter.
"And since then… lots of people who look like Jean Grey."
"It likes to blow things up. It once destroyed an entire planet of broccoli people."
That line drew a louder reaction—a few raised eyebrows and more than one stifled laugh—but Dante didn't join in. He just blinked. Broccoli people? That couldn't be real. Then again… this was the Jean Grey School. Reality bent in this place like wind through paper.
"But some mutants believe that the Phoenix is more than just a force of destruction," Idie continued. "According to the internet, many believe it was also somehow responsible for the birth of Hope Summers… and the emergence of the first new mutants to be found in a very long time."
She paused briefly, lowering her gaze for a second, then said in a quieter voice:
"May I just say—as one of those new mutants—I've never met any sort of Phoenix Force before. Though, when I called to ask Hope about it, she did get strangely quiet."
Kitty Pryde, standing beside the teacher's desk with a clipboard in hand, offered a brief nod. "Thank you, Idie. A splendid report."
Idie walked calmly back to her seat as Kitty scanned the class. "All right… who's next?"
Without hesitation, Broo practically leapt from his chair. His claws clacked gently against the linoleum as he scurried up to the front, posture straight with scholarly excitement beaming from every movement.
"Ah, yes! 'To Fly Among the Stars!'" he began. "A detailed oral history of the Nova Corps and a reasoned explanation for why I should be allowed to join their esteemed ranks. By Broo the Brood."
That was the moment Dante mentally checked out.
He'd been hanging in there through the earlier presentations, only perking up because Idie's topic had been… different. The Phoenix. Destruction. Rebirth. A cosmic entity somehow tied—maybe even linked—to mutantkind. Whether that was literal or just myth, he didn't know. And to be honest, neither did Idie. But something about the idea stuck with him. It was too big to ignore.
Why would a force like that even be connected to mutants? he wondered. Was it coincidence? Or was there something in the mutant gene that attracted things like this?
He didn't have the answer. And right now, with Broo enthusiastically naming every member of the Nova Corps hierarchy from memory, he wasn't in the mood to theorize.
He sighed and let his gaze drift to the clock on the wall. The second hand ticked slower than his patience. Whatever interest he had left had been zapped by the shift from cosmic firebirds to galactic politics. He shifted in his seat and leaned into his hand, eyes halfway closed.
This wasn't the class he cared about.
The one that was coming next?
Now that was worth staying awake for.
The next class on Dante's schedule was one of the more… chaotic ones.
Flight class.
Obviously, not everyone at the Jean Grey School had the ability to fly. Some students were born with wings or natural flight-based mutations. Others, like Dante, had to rely on tech—specifically, jet packs provided by the school. Despite how sleek they looked, the jet packs were still very much in the experimental stage, and the results were usually a mixed bag of awkward gliding, wild spinning, and unexpected crash landings.
Dante hovered in the air, arms slightly out to balance himself as he carefully adjusted his jet pack's altitude. The wind whipped across his face, and his body wobbled just enough to keep him alert.
He was doing okay—until Owen flew up beside him.
"Hey there!" Owen shouted, soaring up with a grin before spinning in a tight loop around Dante.
"Dude—don't do that!" Dante snapped, flailing slightly as he dipped to the side. "I almost lost balance!"
Owen laughed, flying effortlessly alongside him, shifting from upright to sideways to flying backward without a hint of struggle.
"Come on, man. You've got the jet pack. I'm flying with my own power and I'm still doing better than you!"
"To be fair, you're showing off like it's an airshow," Dante muttered, correcting his position mid-air. "One more stunt like that and I'm going to be the first one to crash today."
He hadn't even finished his sentence when a loud thump echoed through the air, followed by a sharp whistle as someone spiraled out of control overhead.
Dante looked up—and instantly grimaced.
Quentin Quire shot across the sky like a human firework, completely unconscious, arms dangling limp as he careened into the crowd of students below. Several of them screamed and scattered.
Fortunately, Toad, one of the school's janitors (and unofficial chaos wrangler), sprang into action. He jumped and tried to catch Quentin mid-flight—but the moment they collided, both of them crashed hard into the dirt. Neither of them moved.
"Yup," Dante muttered. "Today's officially gone off-script."
A nervous twist curled in his gut, and before he could refocus on stabilizing his own flight, a familiar spark of energy surged across his spine. In a blink, a flash of electric light shimmered behind him, and then—
Ray materialized, forming into the hilt of a sword that crackled with faint lightning.
"Master—"
"Ray," Dante muttered under his breath. "I told you. It's Dan. We've talked about this."
"Very well, Dan," Ray replied. His voice was smooth, serious. "But I wouldn't have appeared if it wasn't urgent."
Dante stiffened. "What is it?"
"I'm sensing a tremendous amount of power coming from space. It's heading toward Earth fast. I believe… it may be the Phoenix."
Dante's stomach dropped. The name echoed in his head like a war drum.
He didn't say anything. Couldn't.
Idie's report flashed through his mind. Cosmic destruction. Hosts. Jean Grey. Hope Summers.
The rumors had been growing louder for weeks—whispers of the Phoenix Force returning, of a collision course with Earth, and more disturbingly, a massive conflict brewing between the Avengers and the X-Men.
The teachers had danced around it. Students gossiped like wildfire. But Dante hadn't believed it—not really—until he saw Blindfold crying two days ago in the courtyard. No one had asked why. No one needed to.
She could see what others couldn't.
Now, it felt like the storm was finally arriving.
⸻
Later that day, after flight class ended and the students tried to get back to something resembling normal, news hit the school like a shockwave:
The first clash had happened.
The X-Men and Avengers had fought—and in the chaos, Hope Summers had escaped.
The school buzzed with panic. Tension hung in the hallways like fog. Dante tried to shake it off. He needed to clear his head. So, instead of going to his next class, he wandered.
His feet took him through the quieter areas of the school: the side hallways, the vehicle hangars, the training wing exits. He kept telling himself he was just walking—just getting space.
Then he saw something.
Or rather, someone.
Warbird—the Shi'ar warrior and combat instructor—was dragging an unconscious student by the arm across the hangar floor. The kid was limp, definitely out cold, and Warbird wasn't being subtle. Her pace was fast. Determined. She headed straight for one of the school's spacecraft.
Dante narrowed his eyes.
He may not have known what was going on, but he knew what that look meant.
She was leaving Earth.
And she was dragging kid because there is no way he would agreed to go with her.
He stepped back into the shadows and made a split-second decision. Moving silently, he snuck behind a stack of equipment and followed her into the hangar.
As the ship powered up and the engines hummed to life, Dante slipped into the rear access hatch just before the doors sealed shut.
And then they were off—leaving the Earth behind.