… Jean Grey
Jean Grey sat alone in the farthest corner of the mansion's garden, legs folded under her, arms wrapped around her knees. The morning breeze brushed against her skin, trying to calm her, but her thoughts… they didn't listen to the wind.
It had been hard to think clearly since that night. Since she heard them.
Or felt them… or absorbed them.
It was hard to say exactly what had happened. Ororo's mind wasn't one Jean would ever deliberately tap into — there was too much respect there, too much admiration. But that night, the connection hit her like a warm, impulsive wave. Jean had been vulnerable, emotionally open, and the sounds… the feelings… the intensity spilled from the other woman like steam from a cracked cup.
And what she heard — what she felt — still made her thighs tense and her face burn just thinking about it.
Aidan and Ororo. Together.
Jean bit her bottom lip, hard. It wasn't jealousy. It was… shame. Desire. Envy. Confusion. She couldn't stop replaying the muffled sound of Ororo's breath, the pulsing heat, the electric tension… and his presence. Warm. Rough. Overwhelming. Aidan was like fire wearing charm. Shameless, flirty, full of ulterior motives. And yet, for some reason, Jean's heart skipped whenever he looked at her. When he smiled. When he said her name like she was the only one in the room.
She hated it, because she couldn't hate him.
"You're overthinking, Jean."
The voice snapped her out of it — soft, firm, familiar. Ororo walked toward her, graceful as always, wearing something light that left her shoulders bare, hair tied back in effortless elegance. She stopped next to her, eyes on the horizon before they slowly turned toward Jean.
"Can I sit?"
Jean nodded, and Ororo settled down beside her with ease, keeping a respectful distance — but not a cold one. Almost… comforting.
A long silence stretched. Jean didn't know if she should fake ignorance, run… or confess.
"I didn't mean to", she said eventually, voice low and almost afraid.
Ororo didn't answer right away. She just looked at her. Then, calmly: "I know."
That nearly made Jean cry — because part of her was terrified Ororo would think otherwise.
"It was like… an emotional surge. I felt everything…" Jean closed her eyes, biting her lip again. "And I couldn't stop it."
"I felt it too", Ororo said gently. "Not the same way… but I noticed. Your glances. Your restlessness. The way you avoided me this morning."
Jean lowered her head, ashamed.
"It's not just about you, Ororo. It's… about him."
"Aidan?"
Jean nodded, fingers tightly laced. "He annoys me. He flirts with everyone. He knows he's hot and… uses it. And still, when he talks to me, when he looks at me like he knows me… my body reacts like he really does. Like he can see right through me."
Ororo sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment. Then she turned her eyes back to Jean.
"Aidan has that effect— not just on you."
"I know. And even so… I don't want him to stop", Jean turned slightly, her eyes glowing with restrained fire. "But I also don't know if I want him to keep going. It's like every one of his smiles pulls me deeper… into a place where I lose control."
Ororo understood. Because she had been there.
"You want him", she said — simple, direct.
Jean closed her eyes. Breathed. "Yeah. But I also want not to."
Ororo let out a soft laugh, almost affectionate.
"Welcome to the club."
Jean's eyes widened, and then… she laughed too. Nervous, but relieved.
"He really has that effect, huh?"
"He does", Ororo looked at the garden, then at Jean again. "But don't let that effect define who you are. Aidan may be intense… but so are you. And if you choose to go to him, do it with your head held high. Out of desire, not doubt."
Jean stayed quiet, processing every word. They came like advice… but also like permission. And deep down, a part of her had been waiting to hear exactly that.
Desire wasn't weakness. It was just another kind of power waiting to be mastered.
… Rogue (Anna Marie)
The smell of fresh coffee and toasted bread filled the Xavier Mansion dining hall. For most people, that meant "good morning." For Rogue, it was just another day pretending everything was normal.
She sat in her usual spot next to Kitty, physically present but mentally checked out. Her head? Who knew where it had gone — maybe somewhere out past the giant windows, escaping to a place where things actually made sense. Her gloved fingers tapped lightly on the polished wooden table — part restless, part numb.
Sleep? Yeah, right. If she got thirty minutes, that was a win. Every time she closed her eyes, it was the same thing on loop: his touch. Over and over.
And that unbearable silence. No stolen memories. No secondhand emotions hitting her like a wave. Just… quiet. Freedom.
It was messing her up in ways she didn't even know how to explain.
"You okay?" Kitty asked softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze across the table.
Rogue forced a smile. Pure theater. Kitty's touch was kind, but there was always a barrier — the gloves, the fabric, the reminder. With Aidan? None of that. No barriers. Just skin.
Like that was too much to ask.
Then came the footsteps — casual, easy — paired with a whispered joke and a muffled laugh. She didn't even have to look.
But of course she did.
Aidan walked into the cafeteria like he owned the place. Black pants, simple tee, hair just messy enough to work. He had that whole "I don't care" vibe, and somehow it made everyone care even more.
Raven was with him, his official shadow, full of sarcasm and that "I'm bored with life" look.
The two of them together were… weird. He talked, she barely replied. And still, there was something there. Like they didn't need words. Like they just got each other.
Aidan flashed that smile — yeah, the one that should be illegal. Fist-bumped Kurt, threw a playful jab at Kitty that almost made her choke on her coffee. Then his eyes landed on Rogue.
And that look — God — it wasn't just his usual flirty nonsense. It was something else. Interest. Want. Maybe even more. Rogue's heart skipped two beats.
Pathetic.
Worst part? She wasn't the only one. Jean was watching too. And this time, she wasn't even hiding it. No shame, no hesitation. She had the look of someone who'd already been there, done that, made her choice.
That rush of urgency hit Rogue like a punch to the gut. Jean had touched people before. She knew what it was like. Rogue? She only knew what it meant to lose control — and put someone in a coma.
Lovely memory. Thanks for nothing, universe.
She'd always been the "don't touch" girl. The one people kept their distance from. Always on the outside looking in.
But now… now she could. With him.
It was different, it was insane and it changed everything.
Rogue looked down at her gloved hands. Then at Aidan, laughing at some dumb joke Evan made like life was just that easy.
Maybe for him, it was.
But for Rogue? For the first time ever, touching someone without fear wasn't just a dream.
And you can bet — she wasn't about to let that chance slip by.
… Aidan Quinn
Toasted bread, hot coffee, and beautifully unstable waifus staring at me like they were either about to kill me or drag me into the nearest bedroom. Yep — breakfast of champions.
And today, as proof that I'm a generous man, I dragged my dear, broody Raven to the table with me. She only agreed after I solemnly promised to let her spend the rest of the afternoon lost in whatever forbidden grimoires she could find in the X-Men's secret library.
Yeah, I know how to treat my girl right.
"You're drawing too much attention", Raven muttered, raising an eyebrow as she stirred her coffee like she couldn't care less. "Again."
"I know. I'm just visually pleasing. Blame my flawless genes."
And [Love Spot].
"Or your unbearable attitude", she shot back, with the faintest hint of amusement in her voice.
Maybe that, too.
"It's part of the charm, babe."
She rolled her eyes and went back to focusing on her toast. Victory — just getting her out of that gloomy room was a win in my book.
But Raven wasn't wrong. Across the table, Jean and Rogue were practically trying to melt holes through me with their stares. They weren't even being subtle, which made it all the more fun.
Jean had that intense, locked-on look — the kind that screamed, "today I confess or spontaneously combust." Slightly flushed cheeks, that whole "girl on the edge of a romantic meltdown" vibe. Adorable and dangerous.
Rogue... oh, Rogue was something else. She looked pissed — maybe at me, maybe at herself, maybe at the universe. Her stare was hot, challenging, carrying that dangerous little promise that I wasn't gonna get away. And judging by how tight she was gripping her gloved hands, I had a very good idea of what she wanted. What she was craving.
It was a new feeling. Not that I wasn't used to chasing, wanting, winning. That's kinda my thing — Contractor perfectly suited for a world full of emotionally chaotic, superpowered waifus. But this time… they were starting to come to me. Taking the first step.
A delicious little role reversal.
I glanced back at Rogue and flashed her my best shameless grin. She looked away, cheeks burning, clearly mad she got caught staring so openly.
Jean didn't flinch. She kept watching, biting her lower lip like she was working out a full-blown emotional battle plan. That one was gonna be fun. I could feel it.
But for now? I wasn't making the first move. I wanted to see what they had planned. Let them take the risk. Fair play — and way more fun.
"Why'd you go so quiet all of a sudden?" Raven asked, like she could read my mind. "Plotting something terrible?"
"Always", I answered honestly, sipping my coffee. "But today… today's about self-improvement."
She raised a suspicious brow. "You and self-improvement in the same sentence?"
"I know, I'm surprised too", I said, leaning back in my chair. "But it's time to level up. The Danger Room's calling. I need to grind my skills and become even more irresistible."
She sighed dramatically. "Gods. And here I thought you'd already peaked in unbearable."
"Raven…" I said seriously, leaning in a little. "You haven't seen anything yet."
She almost smiled — but then caught herself and put the neutral face back on.
I finished my coffee, satisfied, stood up, and felt all those eyes follow me. Eyes full of promises and possibilities. Jean, ready to finally spill her feelings. Rogue, ready to prove I wouldn't escape. And Ororo, watching silently from across the room with that knowing look — like she already saw where all this was headed.
But for now, they could wait.
Because at least for this morning, I had an important appointment — with myself. Time to level up, refine some moves, and smash a few murder drones in a dangerously fun simulation.
Gojo Template, here we go~
...
The Danger Room was cold and metallic as always, my footsteps echoing through the controlled emptiness. A kind of tech-sanctuary where you either walked out stronger… or got carried out in pieces.
And today, I wanted more. Way more.
"Kid", Logan's gravelly voice crackled through the control room speakers. "You good down there?"
"Define 'good'", I said, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck. "If you mean mentally stable, probably not. But if it's about blowing up simulations? Oh, I'm ready ready."
His signature grunt came through the speakers. From Logan, that's basically a smile.
"Is he at his limit yet, Ororo?" he asked, probably eyeing the readings.
"Not yet", she replied, slightly annoyed. "But he seems determined to get there."
"Then let's give the kid what he wants", Logan growled. "Simulation. Level six. Urban scenario. Mixed hostiles. Ramp-up threat level."
"Why do I feel like you just cranked it up hoping I'd get wrecked?"
"Because I did."
The lights flickered. The floor rumbled. The sim booted up, dropping me into a real-time urban hellscape — crumbling skyscrapers, smoke curling off flipped cars, flickering streetlamps like they were having a nervous breakdown. Faint sounds in the distance — metal scraping, synthetic breathing, war engines revving up.
Then they came. Humanoid drones first. Three on the left, two straight ahead, one hovering above. Infinity was already active. It always was.
The bullets came first. I didn't even have to move. They stopped inches from my skin, vibrating in the air like bugs slamming into invisible glass.
But I wanted more. I breathed deep, drawing cursed energy into my tendons. Amplified muscle density, heated up the channels, sharpened the flow.
Blue.
I reached out — space twisted between me and the front drone. It yanked toward me like a ragdoll, crushed into parts before it could even crash. Then Red, blasting the two on the left in opposite directions, smashing them against the sim walls like training dummies.
But it wasn't enough.
Still Tier 5.
I wanted to break through.
The fight escalated. More enemies. Bigger drones. Digital monsters. Projectiles flying everywhere. I moved through them like a fixed point in a world gone haywire. Every strike I made was math — Six Eyes adjusting angles, force, weakness, in real time.
I moved like time kept trying to catch me and missing by a fraction of a second. Every hit, every step, every dodge was a formula. A dance. A weapon. My body burned, fists flared — but Reverse Cursed Technique handled it. Healed the cuts. Kept the machine running.
A claw sliced past my throat — I twisted, spun, and CRACK — dropped a compressed red orb right into its gut, shredding it into pixels.
"He's pushing past anything we've tested before", Ororo's voice came through, soft but worried.
"He's trying to break his body's limit", Logan muttered. "Stupid… but committed."
Exactly.
Because I knew what I wanted.
Purple.
Beyond Domain Expansion… that was the technique I still lacked. The fusion of Red and Blue. Absolute collapse. Total destruction in a straight line.
I needed more pressure. More flow. More risk.
I turned off Infinity for two seconds — took a full kick to the ribs. Felt them crack. Used the pain to focus, channeling even more cursed energy.
Blue in one hand. Red in the other.
Polarity. Compression.
Existence itself started to distort around the space between my palms.
The sphere started to form — violent, unstable, purple and ravenous.
Almost.
"Kid, what the hell are you doing down there?" Logan growled. "That's not in the damn protocol!"
"Trust me", I said, my whole body shaking as I held the clashing forces together.
But the fusion collapsed. Still too much. Still unstable.
So I refocused. Reset everything. The Six Eyes lit up — sharper than ever. Concentration. Detection. Absolute control of flow.
One of the enemies lunged with a fatal strike.
And I saw... everything.
The movement. The intent. The weak point — right as my cursed energy surged to the edge of my fists. They flared, glowing.
The impact was perfect.
Cursed energy detonated the moment my fist hit — in that tiny, perfect instant when the universe lets you break it. The enemy in front of me exploded in a warped black flash. The air rippled. The floor screamed. And for one breathless second — everything went still.
Black Flash.
I felt it — not just in my body.
In my soul.
A crack tore open in my limit. In the space between who I was… and who I could become. And in that exact moment, I laughed.
Loud. Unfiltered. Wild.
It was impossible to hold it back — the laugh of a man who just smashed through a barrier. Who tasted the impossible.
My laughter echoed across the Danger Room — a defiant note ringing out in the calm.
"HAHAHAHA— oh, shit… that's it!"
The high buzzed through every cell. Cursed energy spreading like divine adrenaline.
So this is what cursed energy really tastes like.
From up in the control room, I was sure Ororo and Logan were exchanging those "yep, he's finally lost it" looks — but I didn't care. Not in that moment.
Because I got it.
The jump from Tier 5 to Tier 6 wasn't a line.
It was an explosion. A leap into the abyss with your eyes open and your chest full of fire.
And I jumped. No hesitation.
I threw myself back into the fight. The laughter still buzzing on my lips as I charged Red in my left hand, Blue in the right. The space around me twisted — matter pulled and pushed, the laws of physics turning into a joke.
My feet barely touched the ground.
Advanced simulations kicked in: Kaiju-scale monsters, elite soldiers, heavy weaponry. The Danger Room was trying to hold me back.
Poor thing.
I moved with pinpoint precision. The Six Eyes scanned everything. Cursed energy pumped into every tendon, every heartbeat. I amplified a kick with Blue, tore a colossus' head off using Red.
Flying drones swarmed in. I raised my hand.
Infinity — online in microseconds. The bullets froze inches from my face.
"You're gonna have to do better than that, you chunks of code!"
I spun midair, touched down, took an explosion straight to the arms — and smiled with the taste of smoke in my mouth.
This was it. The pressure. The high. The fight against the world.
And inside me… something was responding. Space itself bending around me, like it was listening for my command.
And I didn't hesitate.
Red in the left. Blue in the right. The field around me warped like I was the center of a black hole dancing with a supernova.
Projectiles froze. The world trembled. Simulated enemies charged in — mutants, armored tanks, monsters the size of buildings.
But the Six Eyes saw it all. With absurd clarity. Every vector, every tension point, every weak spot programmed into their artificial bodies.
And in the middle of all that... something clicked.
"Nine Ropes. Polarized Light."
The air around me grew heavier. Blue pulling. Red pushing.
"Crow and Declaration."
And in the center of it all... me.
"Between Front…" I growled through clenched teeth, channeling both forces. "…and Back."
The pressure peaked. The air cracked. A violet shimmer flared between my hands.
And then—
"Hollow Purple."
A sphere tore through the battlefield, pure concentrated erasure. Not a blast. Not a beam.
Just destruction.
Not full-power. Still small. Still incomplete. A suppressed roar in the form of violet light, tearing through enemies like their code got denied by the universe itself.
The Danger Room flickered. The simulation trembled. My body screamed.
But I… I grinned.
Wide.
"Ahhh,that... that was amazing~"
So this is Tier 6~