After the Christmas break, life at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters slipped back into its familiar rhythm. Tochigi Hisako and Christina had joined the training regimen, their youthful determination quickly catching Jue's attention. Piotr Rasputin — the Steel Warrior — who was set to graduate this year, had been assigned as Jue's assistant. Influenced deeply by Professor Xavier's ideals, Piotr had chosen to remain on campus as a role model for the younger students. It didn't take long before Jue's presence and quiet authority won him over completely.
On this snowbound day, the biting wind kept everyone indoors. The vast training hall echoed with the thuds, grunts, and bursts of mutant power. Gavin's training required so much space that even the large room felt a little cramped. Jue sat cross-legged at the sidelines, his sharp gaze calmly tracking each movement, the weight of a thousand years as a Shinigami etched into his stillness.
Beside him stood Zhuge Siting, the newly appointed school nurse. After the tragedy of the funeral weeks ago, she had stepped out of the shadows she had hidden in for years. With a master's degree in medicine from Columbia University and a mutation that gave her a subtle healing gift, she was perfectly suited to care for both the physical and unique needs of mutant students.
The children had already grasped the fundamentals of Jue's regimen. Now came the long grind of repetitive, almost meditative training — the kind Jue himself had endured in the barracks of the Gotei 13, centuries before. He reminded them not to overstrain, watching for signs of burnout. His role here was almost complete. All that remained was to wait for the right moment to advance his next plan.
That moment came sooner than expected.
A whisper from the void — a subtle pulse in the spiritual weave — reached him. Rising without haste, he told Zhuge Siting that he needed to step out. She nodded without question. By the time he cleared the front doors of the mansion, his steps quickened — and then he was gone, the snow falling through the empty space he had occupied.
Far from the school, the air rippled. A mirror dimension unfolded like a crystalline bloom, shimmering beneath a canopy of stars.
"I apologize for the delay," said the Ancient One, floating in the air, her saffron robes billowing gently despite the stillness of the realm. "Mr. Jue, you wished to speak with me in private?"
"I require information about Hell," Jue replied, his voice as calm and unyielding as the blade at his hip, "and a way to enter it. In exchange, I will grant you something you've been hesitating to give me since our last meeting."
The Ancient One's eyes narrowed, not in hostility, but in measured calculation. "Why do you seek Hell?" As Earth's Sorcerer Supreme, she could not lightly allow another power — especially a Shinigami from another universe — to tread there.
"My aim is simple: to slaughter demons. Nothing more. It is my business, and it will harm no one outside of Hell."
"That is not so simple," she countered. "A mass slaughter in Hell will create instability. That chaos will spill into the mortal plane."
Jue's gaze did not waver. "You are already running out of time. Even with your contingencies, once you die, the dimensional predators circling this world will strike. You seek a successor, but he will not be ready for years. I will stand as Hell's warden until then. I will deal with its lords and greater demons. Your mages can guard against larger incursions. As for the lesser creatures that slip through…" He let the sentence hang in the air.
"They will serve as warnings," he continued at last, "reminding the powers of this Earth how foolish their complacency has been."
"You cannot guarantee control of such a situation," she warned.
"They'll be nothing more than small fry — perfect for humanity to sharpen its claws against. When Hell's armies march, other forces coveting Earth will panic. They'll reveal themselves, overextend, and after they've bled themselves for their prize, that will be your moment to strike from the shadows. It will buy your heir the time he needs to stand on his own."
The Ancient One's lips curved in the barest ghost of a smile. "You speak as though you know I will fake my death."
"I have seen it work — many times. The pattern is inevitable," Jue replied.
"It is still a plan that risks countless lives," she said, her voice tinged with the weight of centuries.
"This is war," Jue said, his tone stripped of ornament. "If I could simply cut down our enemies now, I would. But you are dying, and I have not yet regained my full strength. This path costs lives, yes — but far fewer than the alternative."
Her eyes glinted with sharp insight. "And in return, you gain what you want most — dominion over souls."
Jue didn't flinch. "Life and death, soul and reincarnation. You know I will not use such authority to unbalance the cycle. From the moment of our birth, beings like us are bound to keep the balance."
The Ancient One could see it — the aura of legitimacy clinging to him, the authority of a true Shinigami Captain. Finally, she inclined her head. "Very well. I will have it delivered to you, once it is prepared."
With a motion of her hand, the mirror dimension folded back into the night sky, and she was gone.
Jue exhaled, the faintest trace of satisfaction crossing his features. In this strange new universe, he had just secured his first true foothold.
****
In the crumbling slums of Negras, a city festering near the Texas–Mexico border, five of Stryker's "Hyenas" hunted their prey.
Once human, these creatures were the warped remnants of failed experiments meant to recreate the healing and combat prowess of Wolverine (Marvel Comics). The trials had failed spectacularly—yet their bodies had survived, twisted into living weapons. Gnarled claws replaced fingers, nails hardened into talons, and their hunched frames radiated mindless aggression. Any trace of humanity had been burned away. Stryker had erased their wills, replacing them with a single, unshakable directive: hunt.