"You are a warrior with faith," the Duke said evenly, his voice carrying the calm authority of a man used to winning wars without lifting a blade. "Although that faith has been shattered, it's natural you'd struggle to accept being won over after taking shelter under Professor Charles' protection."
Abner's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't interrupt. Jue, once feared in another world as a Shinigami strategist—was in no rush.
"I dislike forcing or threatening people," Jue continued. "It only breeds rebellion later. What I'm offering is choice."
Unknowingly, their steps had brought them to the villa's front door. Jue studied the faint calm settling into Abner's expression, then pressed on.
"Your situation isn't resolved. This arrangement with Charles is merely the first move—a protective stance until larger matters are settled. But protection always comes with a price. Charles will sacrifice much to shield you… and when he falters, those hunting you will return. Imagine that day—you might even have a family by then. And when the shield falls, you'll be dragged away, experimented on, dissected for your X-gene. You were once on an elite action team. You know their methods. You know I'm not exaggerating."
He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he patted Abner's shoulder, turned, and walked inside. Patience wins more battles than force, he thought.
****
The days that followed were deceptively peaceful—no battles, no ambushes, no betrayals. Disputes were settled with polite negotiations, hiding the storm beneath the surface. It was the kind of uneasy peace that reminded jue of Soul Society's political halls—everyone smiling while sharpening their blades under the table.
Jue, the Shinigami out of place in this world, rarely visited Hell lately. He spent his time training young mutants at Xavier's School, or quietly observing the movements of New York's costumed heroes—mutant and otherwise.
Only one event broke the monotony: Abner's decision to leave the school. With Jue's help, he was spirited away via a magical artifact to the Himalayas. The move did not go unnoticed—Professor Charles quickly ordered constant surveillance on Jue's activities, his interactions with the children now closely monitored.
In the shadow of this tension, Jue set a long-term training plan, then departed for Abner's small mountain courtyard in Nepal.
****
"It's been boring lately," Abner said, pouring tea. His modest life at the base of the Himalayas was sustained by savings he'd hidden before his escape. "Supplies are limited, but it's peaceful. Just… dull."
"I didn't come here for sightseeing," Jue replied, sitting opposite him. "I came to train you… and to stay out of Charles' watchful gaze."
Abner smirked knowingly. "The professor must be suspicious after you stole one of his X-Men."
"He's not wrong to be," Jue said with a faint grin. "But it's no big deal. We were never aligned in ideology. This is just a surface-level truce."
"I think Professor X is a good man," Abner said honestly.
"Agreed. If he were younger, you wouldn't have risked leaving him." Jue's gaze sharpened. "But Xavier's school is a mutant enclave. I'll never truly belong there. Still, I've sown the seeds—taught them techniques from another world, skills their teachers will unknowingly pass on. Discrimination and persecution will be the perfect fertilizer. Soon, my work there will be done."
"You're leaving?" Abner asked, frowning.
"Yes. If I stay, Charles' suspicion will grow. My absence will let the seeds take root. And when Stryker or Charles' old enemies make their move, those seeds will sprout into something formidable."
"Why tell me this?" Abner asked. "Aren't you afraid I'll—"
"There are people you can never trust, no matter how long you know them," Jue interrupted. "And there are people you can trust the moment they choose to stand with you. You've already made your choice. Besides… you could never truly go back, even if you wanted to. You don't agree with Charles' dream. You've already chosen rebellion."
What Jue didn't say was that these mutants were never meant to be his army—merely a way to pass time while his powers recovered. Even without his intervention, their war with the world would come. But testing a soldier like Abner under those conditions? That was worth the effort.
****
"But even if you leave, Professor Charles will notice," Abner warned.
"He will," Jue admitted. "He's no fool. But once I'm gone, he'll focus on his students. And the world's hostility will do the rest."
He rose to his feet, changing the subject. "Enough philosophy. You need to focus on your strength."
Abner instinctively straightened into a military stance.
"First," Jue said, "tell me what you think your X-gene does."
"My X-gene boosts my physical fitness and endurance," Abner answered. "It lets me keep fighting longer, even when injured or exhausted."
"That's the surface," Jue countered. "Experience has taught me to never accept the first answer. Think—after your recent battles and that escape, did your body feel stronger?"
Abner thought back. Yes—his stamina had improved again, more than seemed normal. Jue's knowing look confirmed his suspicion.
"Your power works in a loop," Jue explained. "Endurance strengthens your limits. Pushing those limits boosts your endurance. Every harsh trial raises the bar higher. Survive it, and your body adapts—cold, heat, hypoxia, injury. That's why I brought you here. The Himalayas will temper you like a Zanpakutō in the forge."
His eyes glinted like steel under moonlight. "From today, your battlefield is this mountain."
"You mean you want me to keep sharpening myself in brutal conditions—pushing forward through life-and-death situations until I grow stronger."
Abner didn't need long to grasp Jue's plan. With his enhanced body, it was clear enough. "So, from now on, I'll train in these mountains until I can adapt completely to the environment."
Jue gave a small nod. "Without relying on any equipment. Not even the warm clothing you're wearing."
Abner's jaw tightened. "When do we start?"
"Now."
****
Nepal—a sliver of land pressed between the giants of China and India. A landlocked country where most of the terrain is jagged mountains, eternally capped with snow. Plains are scarce, resources scarcer still. Since the adoption of a multi-party parliamentary system in the 1990s, political unrest has been constant, and in this particular year, the tension between the Shah King and the Crown Prince had only deepened the instability.
For Abner and Jue, however, the chaos was an unexpected gift—it meant no one would interfere with their training in the Himalayas.
Eight of the world's ten highest peaks rose along Nepal's borders, including the famous Mount Everest. But instead of Everest, Jue chose Mount Makalu—a quieter, deadlier neighbor in the central Himalayas. At 8,463 meters, it was the world's fifth-tallest mountain, a place few dared to climb even in good weather.
It was late winter, and the range was buried in snow. The mountain's jagged silhouette split the sky in the morning light. Jue stood at its base wearing only his Shinigami uniform and white haori, utterly unfazed by the piercing wind. Abner, at Jue's insistence, wore only a U.S. Army summer combat uniform—gear designed for ventilation, not survival.
Jue's tone was as sharp as the cold air.
"Makalu is a bare-handed climb. When you can finish it in a single day, you're done. How you do it is your choice—push yourself, or slack off. Just know, I'll only step in if you're about to die."
Abner gave a short nod. He understood well enough—slacking meant death.
The air was already thin at the base, and each breath burned his lungs. The wind cut through his clothing, leeching heat from his body. If it weren't for the genetic enhancements he'd received, he wouldn't have even been able to stand here. His body screamed at him to retreat, but his mind was elsewhere—flashing back to the time when his own country had turned on him.
He remembered the hunts, the capture, the helplessness of being strapped down like an animal for experimentation. If not for the intervention of Duke and Professor Charles, he'd still be locked away with the other mutants. That betrayal—by the people he had sworn to protect—was a wound that never fully healed.
Rage sparked in his chest. He bellowed into the screaming wind and took his first step upward. The ice was treacherous, slick underfoot, forcing him to fight for every inch.
Jue had chosen a less famous route than Makalu's West Ridge—shorter but positioned directly in the path of the mountain's fiercest winds. In summer, it was challenging. In winter, it was a death sentence. No one had ever successfully summited Makalu in winter.
Hours passed, and Abner's progress was pitiful—less than a hundred meters by midday. Three hundred meters above, Jue watched from a rocky platform, arms folded behind his back. His stillness belied his focus. The air around him was unnaturally calm, a sign of the spiritual particle control he was training under these extreme conditions.
This was more than just about Abner's growth. For Jue, it was a chance to rebuild his foundation. Losing his powers had been a crisis, but starting over meant he could correct flaws left behind by years of rushed growth. This was why he had come to Makalu—to avoid the eyes of the world, and to prepare himself for the stronger forces that lurked in both the Soul Society and the Marvel universe.
The sun rose higher, glaring off the ice until Abner's eyes burned. Jue had forbidden sunglasses—adapting to the blinding light was part of the trial. The glare turned the ice into a treacherous mirror, making every step riskier.
By early afternoon, Abner's body finally gave out. His limbs were numb, his mind fogged, his vision dimming.
In the instant his body collapsed, Jue's form blurred into motion. Using Shunpo, he crossed the slope in a heartbeat, his steps sure even on the slick ice. He caught Abner just before his head struck the ground.