There were a few times when Charles Xavier felt surprised. So few and far in between that he could count them on one hand.
But today's afternoon had him rattled. While he was on a routine inspection using Cerebro to observe new emerging mutants, a vast telepathic wave from a young man in New York burst forth before his eyes, alerting him.
Unlike Jean's raw power, this one felt different, elusive, like a vast encroaching mist that slipped through fingers no matter how anyone tried to grasp it.
The shiftiness of its nature intrigued him, but this didn't distract him from what was important: a mutant in need.
Professor Xavier's eyes wandered around the sphere-like metallic walls of Cerebro. A bright light was cast from above, illuminating the vast space, while he was sitting on his chair atop a protruding platform akin to a metal walkway.
A fine creation of one of his students, Hank McCoy.
He glanced at his watch; it had been exactly 5 minutes since he called for some students and members of his team.
And sure enough, the discipline he instilled in them didn't go to waste, as automatic walls at the end of the platform slid open.
Six people entered in a row through the sufficiently wide platform.
"Professor, you called," said Scott Summers, the field leader of the X-Men, known as Cyclops.
Following him were Ororo Munroe, known as Storm.
Logan, Wolverine.
Anna Marie, Rogue.
Hank McCoy, Beast.
And finally, Jean Grey.
Charles looked at his team, most of whom wore their evening clothes. It was the end of the day, their rest time. But helping mutants isn't tied to any hour; otherwise, he wouldn't be sitting inside Cerebro this late.
"Indeed, we have something to discuss," he nodded. "Ease up your minds, allow me to take you somewhere."
Then, before they could react, the scenery around them changed into an all too familiar city.
"Do you ever knock before poking into others' minds, Chuck?" said Logan, while glancing at the crowded streets around them.
"You're inside my own, not the other way around," Charles replied calmly, standing from his wheelchair.
He stretched his back, savouring the rare moments when he got to stand up again, before looking inquisitively at Wolverine. "I've heard you've been holed up in your garage these past few days?"
Rogue from the side chuckled. Charles looked at her curiously.
"You can thank Jubilee for that," she said, tucking strands of long white hair behind her ears.
"She blew up your bike again, didn't she?" Charles glanced at Logan's rapidly darkening face.
"She's fled to wherever she and her group are playing heroes" Logan's reply almost seemed like a growl.
"But how's the bike?" Hank nudged him with his hairy paw, to which Logan pretended he didn't feel or hear.
A hint of a smile seemed to cross the professor's face.
"Discipline suits you, Logan. But enough banter, we have something to do."
He strode forward until he stopped, facing a young man wearing an open long-sleeve grey shirt above a white t-shirt, with black jeans.
Everyone's attention fell on the blonde-haired young man who seemed to be frozen in time, like everyone else inside this mindscape.
Jean stood next to the professor, examining the painful expression on the man's face.
"Is he a mutant?" she asked softly, despite having certainty over her hunch.
"That, he is," Charles said. "Two hours ago, I discovered him when I felt the awakening of his X-genes."
"Were there any accidents? Any casualties?" Hank asked worriedly.
He had heard and seen firsthand the awakening of certain mutants whose powers caused devastation upon their manifestation.
Charles shook his head. "No, fortunately, this one was quite discreet, so no one noticed him. In a sense, he's similar to Jean and me."
"A telepath?" Scott adjusted his glasses.
"See for yourself and feel what I've experienced at that time," Charles gestured forward with his hand. As soon as his words fell, the world resumed its operation.
"He's in lots o' pain..." remarked Rogue as she and the rest of the group examined his expression, that scrunched in confusion, resembling someone who had been sucker-punched in the guts.
His confusion turned into wonder that soon became pain. His golden eyes shot open, and for a moment, they shone with a mystical hue.
A silent grunt escaped his mouth. The world around them shook, unnoticed by non-telepathic senses, but here, they could see it and feel it.
The air around the young man seemed to vibrate. A strong telepathic wave exploded, fast and strong. It shook the X-Men before disappearing over the horizon, seemingly extending without end.
Adam fell on his knees in pain, clutching his ears, blood dripping from his nose.
"This..." Jean's eyes widened in surprise. She glanced at the professor, who spoke without looking at her.
"He's got quite the potential, doesn't he?"
Jean frowned, looking at Adam, who was stuck in his kneeling position. "Yes... But how do I put it? His mental powers felt, in a way, different from ours?"
"Every mental signature is different, Jean, but I understand what you mean," Charles said, feeling quite satisfied at her remark.
"It feels like a telepathic power, yet not quite the same. Look, have you ever seen someone regain control of their power this quickly?" Charles said.
Adam struggled to his feet, his face showed no disbelief at what he had done. Instead, he looked afraid.
"I've seen this look before, way too many times..." Ororo said, her eyes sympathetic with understanding.
Meanwhile, Adam quickly closed his eyes, as if sinking into his mind. A few moments later, the telepathic waves vanished like they had never been there from the beginning.
The world around them continued its operation until Adam boarded a cab, disappearing amidst the traffic.
"Good quick reaction," Scott approved.
"Indeed, ah would've done the same..." Rogue replied wistfully, seeing her past self in his actions.
A moment later, they were back within Cerebro.
"What's the plan?" Logan was the first to break the silence.
"Obviously, prepare a team and see if we can help him," Ororo added.
Hank, who had been silent, looked at Charles, who didn't say anything.
"What's your opinion, professor?"
Charles lightly shook his head. "None of the mentioned."
"Why? Ain't it the right time to bring him here?" Rogue stared at Charles, who moved his chair, passing right between them.
"The question is, Rogue, why is he standing right outside our doors right now?"
"What? Why?" Jean exclaimed, surprised.
"That, I don't know, dear Jean. His surface thoughts are buried way too deep for me to unravel. Nonetheless, let's go and meet him." Charles didn't turn around, quickly disappearing behind the door.
"We used to be the ones knocking on doors," Scott scratched his head, looking at his team. "Did the mansion become common knowledge now?"
"It could be one of the students who told him," Ororo said hesitantly.
"I doubt that," Scott replied.
"Doubts lead to nowhere, slim, but I smell trouble." Logan grunted before following the professor.
Despite the confusion and the wariness they felt, the group filed out of the spherical room, hoping that this visitor didn't come with ill intentions.
The cab swiftly left after dropping him.
Adam stood outside the metallic gates, apprehension in his eyes, doing his best to ground his thoughts.
His vigilance had its merits; he lacked the control of a true Visionary. In a sense, he was like a low sequence beyonder fighting madness. That didn't stem from above sequences or mythical forms.
It was his unpredictable thoughts and his inexperience with the nature of his powers that terrified him, like a lion cub alone in the prairie surrounded by a pack of hyenas.
Neither the moonlit sky nor the cool breeze calmed him down. No, Adam felt alienated from everything by the hands of the fear of what mess he could make.
Countless possibilities flashed through his head, only to be quickly banished, leaving him shaking.
He knew his mind wasn't a happy place, nor were his thoughts, especially after his mother's passing.
"What should I tell them?" Adam muttered, hesitating. It wasn't that his sudden visit wouldn't spark suspicion as to how he knew about them; the mansion operated on secrecy, hidden from the eyes of the world.
But fear was a strong motivator, especially when someone feared himself. There were no solutions other than to seek help from people of his own kind.
Adam pressed the button on the rough stone wall beside the gate.
BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ
Repeatedly, he kept trying, only to be met with the same silence.
Moments passed, Adam felt exhausted, he leaned his head against the iron gate, That unlike his smouldering mind that felt like it'd explode at any moment, the touch of cold metal felt soothing, lulling him to close his eyes and rest for a while.
But he knew he couldn't; ever since his telepathic burst in New York, Adam felt himself changing; it was subtle at first, voices beyond his sight, spirit visions that'd erratically overlap with reality only to vanish with a swift, urgent thought from him.
He was transforming little by little, and he was clueless about when it'd stop.
Seconds passed by, and there was no response from the intercom.
A bitter chuckle escaped his mouth.
Adam lightly pushed himself from the gate, deciding to come back tomorrow.
He turned around, frustrated. Yet before he could take another step, the metallic gate groaned, sliding open.
He looked back; there was light at the mansion's entrance where he could see several silhouettes approaching.
Adam glanced at the gates; the timing was calculated, he noted.
Still, it didn't matter; at least they didn't turn him away.
Cautiously, while still retaining active control of his mind, he strode forward inside the mansion's grounds.
Halfway through the distance from the mansion, he stopped before the seven X-Men he easily recognised.
Professor Charles Xavier stood in the middle, his students forming a half-circle around him.
They are wary of me.
Adam concluded, although it was quite apparent to anyone, but the ease with how he came to that conclusion didn't escape his notice.
He looked at Professor Xavier, who, unlike the others, didn't exhibit any sign of wariness, only curiosity.
"Despite the late hour, welcome to Charles Xavier's Institute of Gifted Youngsters," Charles said.
He's testing me, thought Adam, his mind reading every gesture they made unconsciously.
Adam gulped nervously; his realisation didn't help. He didn't know what to say to them.
"I-I need help."
Several moments passed before Adam spoke, his voice shaking; the control he exerted over his mind was starting to take its toll on him.
"What kind of help do you need?" Charles met his gaze; he was patient. But the need to know how he came about them kept nagging at his mind.
"I'm a mutant," Adam said; the words exiting his mouth felt unfamiliar.
Silence fell over the gathered X-Men.
Professor Charles sank into his thoughts, whether to press Adam further or, at least for now, accept the matter as it is. He didn't want to estrange this young mutant among his kind; questions would come later. Right now, offering help is most important.
"How did you know about us?"
Yet before he could speak, Logan, wearing his classic white tank top, strode forward, standing a few feet from Adam.
"Logan," Charles chided.
"It's just a simple question, Professor. An honest answer is all we need." Logan didn't back down.
"Spit it out, boy, how did you know about us?" He pressed.
"I-I saw some of you before in action," Adam quickly answered, intimidated by Logan's hulking form.
"That's too convenient," Logan shot back, his voice laced with scepticism.
Adam took a deep breath, calming his racing heart. "I'm not lying," he said, which, technically, was the truth.
However, Logan still looked at him suspiciously; Adam's mind raced with excuses so as not to expose his otherworldly experience.
Staring at Logan, Adam couldn't shun the fear gripping his heart. His Marvel knowledge wasn't extensive, but he knew the man and the brutality he'd unleashed on his enemies if provoked.
Looking at the crossed strong arms on his chest, the fists that were clenched.
In his mind, he envisioned a scene, where claws tore flesh, his flesh.
Like a moth to a flame, in a split second, the chains shackling his thoughts came undone. A whisper stirred within his mind, wishing to defy the confines of his head, bending reality.
His thoughts pierced into Logan's mind, like a spark igniting a bonfire.
At that moment, Adam's eyes widened in realisation, then horror. He took a step back, lifting his hands defensively. He knew he made a huge mistake.
"C-calm down," he shivered, panic shattering his focus. Any effort he tried to exert on his mind proved to be futile as soon as he heard a growl.
"What did you do to me?" Logan gritted his teeth, barely resisting the urge to strike, whispering at the back of his mind. He immediately noticed he was being manipulated; his claws came out a little bit, gleaming in the dark.
Before this, he always prided himself on being resilient against mental manipulation. But this was different from Professor Xavier's precise control and Jean's raw output and direct intrusion.
It felt subtle yet imposing with no room for denial. Logan's eyes widened as he took a step forward against his will. He felt his mind slipping, falling into malicious aggression he didn't know he had for the young man.
"He's being manipulated, he's going to attack," Charles shouted, alerting the X-Men.
"Can't let him hurt the newcomer." Rogue lunged for Adam, taking off her gloves and tightly clutching his arm. Her warm touch did nothing, no power surged through her, and no memories rushed to her mind; for a moment, she stood still, shocked.
"It ain't working," she exclaimed in disbelief.
"We got this, Rogue," Scott and Hank shouted, each one clutching Logan's arms, barely able to stop his advance. Behind them stood Jean, her hand on her temple, trying her best to calm Logan's mind.
"AGH!" However, she quickly recoiled; Logan's mind was already a chaotic storm of trauma, pain and primal instincts, and now it felt ten times worse.
Meanwhile, Scott, Hank and Ororo were losing the struggle against Logan, whose eyes lost all clarity, ferociously fixed on Adam. They didn't know a future had already been envisioned.
They didn't know. No, they didn't know, thought Adam, panicking.
He heard the low growl of a beast resisting its capture.
"LOGAN," he heard a scream as Wolverine broke free.
Two strong telepathic powers swept over him and Logan.
His vision barely registered his flicker of motion.
Despite his latent power, he couldn't stop the sound of metal screeching. He could only push Rogue to the side. Before sharp claws pierced his shoulder, throwing him like a mess on the ground.
"AGHH!!"
Adam screamed; pain flared in his shoulder, overwhelming his senses. His eyes were wide, staring in disbelief.
Pain, confusion, and regret were all on his face as he looked at the shocked Logan, crouching before him, claws inserted in his flesh.
He grabbed the hand pinning him down. He didn't know when, but tears started welling in his eyes.
"I-I'm sorry," he said between laboured breaths.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Tears fell on his cheeks, startling Logan from his frenzy.
"It's my fault," he felt like choking.
"We scarred him into this," Rogue whispered, trembling as she rushed from where she fell to Adam, whose ears picked up the faintest yelling and foot shuffle in the back.
He was tired; deep inside, he was waging a war against a new reality, a new identity shoved down his throat.
He couldn't resist anything happening to him.
He was exhausted, defeated.
Staring at Logan's unblinking eyes, the world started losing its clarity.
Faint voices entered his ears; gentle, considerate hands reached for his wound.
But Adam couldn't help but close his eyes, as they were swept by a comforting darkness.