Aiden ate slowly, savoring every bite of the food on his plate. But halfway through his meal, a subtle prickling sensation crawled across the back of his neck. He paused, his fork hovering in midair.
Someone was watching him.
He turned his head slightly, and just in time, he saw a flash of red—long hair gleaming like fire—before it quickly ducked down. Jean Grey, the red-haired girl from earlier.
Aiden's dark eyes flickered with thought. For a moment, he sat in silence, debating whether to ignore her. But then, with a small nod to himself, he picked up his tray, stood, and walked toward her table.
Charles Xavier, who had been observing from a distance, noticed the boy's movement. The corner of the professor's lips curved into a faint, approving smile.
Aiden placed his tray across from Jean and sat down. He leaned forward slightly, offering a friendly smile as he extended his hand.
> "Hello. My name is Aiden."
Jean lifted her head, surprise flashing in her sapphire-like eyes. Her small brows knitted as though confused.
> "You're… not afraid of me?" she asked softly, genuine curiosity in her tone.
Aiden tilted his head.
> "Afraid? Why would I be? You're not a monster."
His lips quirked as he added, "Besides, we're the same kind, aren't we?"
Before she could respond, Aiden raised his hand. A piece of bread from his tray floated into the air, drifting toward his mouth. Without using his hands, he took a neat bite.
Jean blinked. Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by something far rarer on her usually blank face—a smile.
> "So that's it… You can do it too."
She extended her hand, and her fork rose gracefully from her plate, food hovering before her lips. Like a mirror of Aiden's actions, she ate without touching her tray.
The two children, one boy and one girl, sat across from each other with food dancing in the air between them. To the others in the cafeteria, it looked strange, almost unsettling. But to them, it was something else entirely. For the first time, they weren't alone in their power.
From his seat, Charles's expression softened. A gentle, relieved smile spread across his face.
---
After breakfast came the next part of the day's routine. At their age, there was only one duty they couldn't escape—study.
Xavier's Institute wasn't just a shelter for mutants; it was also a school. Charles's vision wasn't simply to teach children to control their powers, but also to give them the same education as ordinary humans. To give them normalcy in a world that so often rejected them.
The morning classes were filled with standard subjects—math, literature, history. For the others, the lessons were often dull, but for Aiden, they were an opportunity.
Having lived two lives, he understood better than anyone that knowledge was power. Civilizations advanced through it, and individuals grew sharper and more dangerous with it. Abilities alone could make someone strong, but knowledge made strength precise, controlled, and purposeful.
Still, the classes here were tailored for children. The teachers explained slowly, repeated themselves often, and simplified the material. For the eager Aiden, it was like an adult being forced to sit through lessons meant for primary school students. Useful in the long term, yes—but far too slow.
The moment class ended, the other children rushed outside like unleashed puppies, racing across the wide lawns, shouting and laughing. Some even showed off their abilities, conjuring sparks, stretching their limbs, or creating illusions. For them, this was paradise—a place where they could use their gifts without fear.
But Aiden did not follow.
Instead, he headed to the fifth floor.
The library.
---
The library stretched wide and tall, its walls lined with shelves that seemed to climb toward the ceiling. Thousands of books rested there, perhaps tens of thousands. Some were old, bound in worn leather, smelling faintly of dust. Others were new, their covers glossy beneath the golden light of chandeliers. The sheer scale of it spoke volumes of Charles Xavier's wealth and dedication.
Aiden stepped inside, inhaling deeply. The scent of paper and ink filled his lungs, calming his mind. Unlike the noisy lawns below, here there was silence. No children. No distractions. Just knowledge waiting to be consumed.
He began browsing the shelves, pulling out books on physics, biology, chemistry, and mathematics. Basic, foundational subjects.
Though he had studied these things in his previous life, much of it had been returned to his teachers long ago. Besides, there was no guarantee that this world's scientific rules aligned perfectly with the one he had left behind. It was better to verify everything with fresh eyes.
He stacked a pile of books in his arms, letting several float around him through telekinesis. Then he sat at a large oak desk, opened the first volume, and began to read.
---
Hours slipped away unnoticed.
Page after page, word after word, he absorbed it all. His memory worked with uncanny efficiency—perhaps a side effect of his psychic gift. Everything he read etched itself clearly in his mind. Complex concepts that once would have taken him days to digest now fell into place naturally, as though his brain had been fine-tuned to process information.
And all the while, his telekinesis never rested. He let books spin gently in the air, flipping pages with invisible fingers, controlling multiple objects at once. It was more than study—it was training.
By the time the afternoon sun dipped low, he had read more than a dozen books. His conclusion so far was that the physical rules of this world matched those of his old one. The difference lay not in science, but in the existence of beings who bent those rules through powers of their own.
Aiden leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. His head throbbed faintly, but there was satisfaction in the ache. He was growing—not just stronger, but smarter.
Just as he reached for another book, a voice brushed against his mind, warm and gentle.
> "Aiden, you are very studious, and that pleases me. But remember—balance is important. Come down for dinner. You can continue tomorrow."
Charles.
Aiden blinked and glanced outside. The sky had already darkened, stars beginning to glimmer in the distance. He hadn't even noticed.
He chuckled softly to himself.
> "Alright, Professor."
Closing his books, he returned them neatly to their shelves, then made his way to the cafeteria once again.
---
Dinner was just as lively as breakfast. Children filled the room, talking, laughing, their powers occasionally sparking in small bursts of mischief.
Aiden returned with a tray piled high with food—bread, noodles, roasted meat, and vegetables stacked so much that it almost looked comical.
Jean Grey raised an eyebrow as he sat across from her.
> "Is your appetite always this big?" she asked dryly.
Aiden took a bite of noodles, speaking with his mouth full.
> "Of course. Studying takes energy. If I don't eat enough, how can I keep my brain sharp?"
Jean blinked, caught off guard.
> "You… studied the entire afternoon?"
He nodded, shoveling another forkful of food.
Jean sighed, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
> "You're such a bookworm."
Aiden glanced at her, feigning offense.
> "Loving to learn is not shameful. But having prejudice? That is."
Jean froze, then looked away, biting her lip in thought. For someone so young, the boy spoke like an adult. It made her curious.
---
After dinner, Aiden returned to his dormitory.
He didn't collapse into bed, nor did he shower immediately. Instead, he turned his focus once again to training.
His eyes locked on the nightstand. Telekinetic energy wrapped around it like invisible threads. Slowly, it rose into the air.
This time, it did not sway nearly as much as before. His control was steadier, smoother. Sweat still beaded on his forehead, but the strain was less. The nightstand rose and fell rhythmically, like weights in a gym.
He continued until dizziness clouded his vision. Only then did he stop, lowering the furniture gently. He staggered to the bathroom, washed off the sweat, and collapsed into bed. Sleep claimed him almost instantly.
---
And so the days passed.
Breakfast, classes, the library, training.
While other children played on the lawns, Aiden spent his afternoons with books, devouring knowledge like a starving wolf. At night, he strengthened his telekinesis, testing his limits again and again.
Two months slipped by in the blink of an eye.
On one particular afternoon, Aiden sat at a corner table in the library, completely immersed in a thick volume on molecular biology. Books floated around him in a lazy orbit, pages flipping at invisible commands.
The quiet was broken by a sudden voice.
> "You're here again!"
Aiden blinked, lifting his head from the sea of words.
A figure stood in the aisle. A girl with fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, dressed in denim overalls and small red shoes. Her bright eyes locked on him as she strode forward, her expression caught between exasperation and amusement.
Jean Grey.
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