The Danger Room was colder than Mausgrau expected. A cavern of steel and light, it hummed with hidden machinery. Panels in the walls shifted endlessly, transforming into battlegrounds in the blink of an eye.
Cyclops stood at the control deck, arms folded across his chest. "We'll start simple," he said, visor gleaming. "Non-lethal drones, low-level hazards. Let's see what you can do."
Mausgrau flexed her claws, nerves buzzing. Delilah stood beside her, back straight, eyes fixed forward with a defiance that masked her unease. Inside, the nameless man whispered to himself: I've defeated gods, toppled worlds… and yet I'm being tested like a child. But maybe this is what I need.
"Program start," Cyclops ordered.
The walls shifted. Suddenly, the pair were in a city street simulation, Serpent-shaped drones emerging from alleyways with glowing blades.
Mausgrau darted forward, her movements a blur of instinct and raw muscle. She clawed up a wall, tail wrapping around a pipe as she launched herself onto a drone's back, tearing its head free with a hiss. Nightcrawler, watching from above, clapped his three-fingered hands. "Sehr schön!"
Delilah stepped into the fray, her hands reshaping into blades of living light. With a fluid motion, she carved through two drones, the steel melting like butter beneath her strikes. Yet her expression stayed grim. I've used this power to conquer… now I must use it to protect. Can I?
Storm raised an eyebrow as she watched. "Formidable. But her strikes are heavy. Too heavy."
Mausgrau landed beside Delilah, panting. "You're overthinking. Just fight!"
Delilah almost snapped back—then caught herself. The mouse-woman was right. She breathed, let the thought of conquest slip away, and moved. This time, her blows flowed, elegant and precise.
The drones fell one by one.
---
Between Tests
Later, in the gymnasium, Mausgrau struggled to keep up as Quicksilver blurred past her on the track. She tripped, face-planting hard, only to hear laughter.
"You've got claws, girl, but no stamina," Pietro mocked.
Mausgrau bared her teeth. "Say that again when you're not hiding behind speed." She hurled a dumbbell—not to hit him, but to make him dodge. When he stumbled, she smirked. "See? Rat's got bite."
Elsewhere, Delilah sparred with Wolverine. His claws clashed against her glowing blades, sparks lighting up the training floor.
"You hold back," Logan growled, eyes narrowing. "Not 'cause you can't hit harder—but 'cause you don't trust yourself."
Delilah's jaw clenched. He's right.
"Maybe I'm afraid," she admitted quietly.
Logan's smirk was all teeth. "Good. Means you care. Don't lose that, kid."
---
A New Understanding
That evening, Mausgrau and Delilah sat in the mansion gardens, the laughter of mutant children drifting on the breeze.
Mausgrau's whiskers twitched. "This place… it feels like home."
Delilah stared at her hands, watching them shift into different forms. "And I… don't feel like I deserve it."
Mausgrau leaned against her shoulder. "Maybe that's what makes you deserve it."
From the shadows, Storm and Cyclops watched.
"She's dangerous," Cyclops muttered.
Storm nodded slowly. "Yes. But so is fire. And even fire can warm, if guided."
Inside, the nameless man whispered to himself. Maybe I can be more than dust, more than a destroyer. Maybe… I can belong.