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Chapter 12 - The X-Men

"I thought you'd be resting longer, Daniel," Xavier said, greeting me with that ever-present, polite smile as I stepped into the room.

And yes, I was surprised.

[Name: James Howlett]

[Age: 132]

[Nickname: Wolverine]

[Race: Meta-Human]

[Abilities: Regenerative Healing Factor, Retractable Claws, Adamantium-Laced Skeleton]

Well damn.

My eyes flicked over to the next entry—

[Name: Robert Louis Drake]

[Age: 22]

[Nickname: Iceman]

[Race: Meta-Human]

[Abilities: Ice Manipulation, Thermal Vision, Organic Ice Form]

And another—

[Name: Piotr Nikolayevich Rasputin]

[Age: 30]

[Nickname: Colossus]

[Race: Meta-Human]

[Abilities: Organic Steel Transformation, Superhuman Strength & Durability]

Nope. I am not trying to pronounce that name. Colossus it is.

Then the next—

[Name: Scott Summers]

[Age: 26]

[Nickname: Cyclops]

[Race: Meta-Human]

[Abilities: Optic Blasts, Acute Energy Projection]

Something about this guy just gave off "we won't get along" vibes. I wasn't sure why… but Jean's not-so-subtle death glare toward him told me I wasn't alone.

"So, this is the new kid," Wolverine grunted. The man looked like he shaved with a chainsaw. "Gotta say, he looks better than most of us."

"Not the nicest way to greet your teammates, Logan," Bobby—Iceman—chuckled, clapping his shoulder. "But hey, he's got a great build."

Thanks, I guess?

"You two are too much," said Colossus, his voice as solid as the rest of him. "Let the Professor explain before overwhelming him."

I didn't say anything. Just stood there, taking it all in. They kept at it, of course—Logan mocking Bobby's build, which didn't make much sense since Bobby looked like he stepped out of a fitness magazine. But I guess if you're short and stocky, lean muscle doesn't impress you.

"I apologize for the chaos," the last of the group finally spoke—voice calmer, more grounded. "Our team tends to be... intense."

He stepped closer, letting the others bicker in the background.

"I'm Scott," he said, offering a hand. "Team leader. I go by Cyclops."

The pride in his voice wasn't subtle. But hey, at least he wasn't obnoxious about it.

I shook his hand with a neutral smile. "Daniel. Daniel Hayes."

Forgot to say my middle name. Not that it matters.

"And I don't really have a code name. Yet."

If I ever pick one, it'll be something simple. No edgy nonsense or cringe acronyms. Something clean, maybe even a little sarcastic.

"I believe everyone is here now," Xavier said, drawing the group's attention. "Except for Kitty. She won't be returning for a while."

Kitty, huh? She sounded fun. I pictured her off somewhere on a rogue mission, maybe in a trench coat, living her pirate arc.

"Daniel," Xavier turned back to me, "Let me formally reintroduce the X-Men now that most of us are present."

I nodded. He motioned toward Scott first.

"Scott has already introduced himself, but let me add—he's our longest-standing member. Not the oldest by age," he smiled faintly, "but he was the very first student to join me."

Cyclops stood quietly, hands clasped behind his back.

"Thanks to his early training, natural leadership, and sharp tactical mind, he was appointed the team leader of the X-Men."

That was… a lot of praise. But I couldn't really argue with it.

He wasn't a powerhouse like Jean or Storm. He couldn't bend reality or regenerate from a nuke. But the guy had discipline. Controlled his mutant abilities—literal laser eyes—with pure mental focus. That deserved some respect.

"As for his powers," Xavier continued, "he releases high-energy blasts through his eyes."

The glasses helped manage them, of course, but those wouldn't be worth a dime without that constant mental restraint.

"Then we have Logan," he said, glancing at the guy who looked like he hadn't slept since World War II. "One of our oldest members… in every sense."

Xavier's tone got weird there, but I guess saying someone's over a century old still catches in the throat.

"He's a master combatant. Highly resilient, extremely capable. And yes—he has retractable claws, laced with one of the strongest metals on Earth."

Wolverine casually extended his claws—not out of bravado, just to prove Xavier wasn't lying.

"He also has a regenerative ability," Xavier added, "one that allows him to recover from almost any injury."

"That's… amazing," I said, faking the enthusiasm just a little. But the admiration? That part was real. His healing factor was insane—even if he had to feel every bit of pain before healing. I'm not sure my brain would survive that kind of torment.

Xavier turned his attention to the metal giant in the room.

"And this is Peter," he said with a smile. "Full name—Piotr Nikolayevich Rasputin. But we call him Peter, for… well, obvious pronunciation reasons."

"Rasputin?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is he—?"

"He's my older brother," Illyana said from her spot at the corner, arms folded as she leaned against the wall.

Huh. If I didn't already know that, I never would've guessed. They didn't look anything alike.

"Pleasure to meet you, Daniel," Colossus said, his voice calm, his steel face stretched into a gentle smile.

Yeah. Nothing alike.

Not in looks, not in mannerisms, not even in accent. Illyana's Russian was barely there—Peter's could cut steel.

"As you can see, his mutation is a bit more… visible than most," Xavier continued, still calm, never pitying. "Like Hank, his powers affect his appearance. Also like Hank, he possesses incredible strength and durability—his entire body becomes organic steel."

"It helps protect those around me," Peter added simply.

That was… admirable. I think I could get along with this guy.

"And lastly," Xavier said, "we have Bobby."

"Yo!" the icy one raised his hand. "I go by Iceman."

"He's the youngest after Illyana," Xavier said, glancing his way. "And as you can guess from the name—cyrokinesis. The ability to manipulate ice."

To make his point, Bobby casually shifted into his full ice form—and the room temperature dropped fast.

"Neat, right?" he grinned.

It was neat. Cold, but neat.

"Don't use your powers so carelessly, Bobby," Ororo scolded, arms crossed. "Be mindful of the environment."

He shrugged like it was nothing, clearly used to the warning.

"As I mentioned earlier," Xavier went on, "one of our members is currently away. Katherine Pryde—though we call her Kitty. She has the ability to phase through any solid matter. Bright, expressive, full of energy. I think you'll like her."

Didn't expect the professor to pitch a friendship like that… but I didn't mind.

"And that brings us to the full team—the X-Men," he said, opening his arms as if inviting us all in. Right on cue, everyone circled closer. "People with abilities just like yours, Daniel."

"I know this can all be a lot to take in," Scott said, his voice surprisingly empathetic. "I felt the same at first. But in time, you'll see—this place starts to feel more like home than anywhere else."

The X-Men weren't just a team. That much was obvious. 

They weren't the Avengers, who ran on PR, protocols, and press conferences. This felt more like a family—messy, weird, powerful… but a family.

Not that I was planning to join the Avengers. Just saying.

"We've heard your powers are similar to Ororo's," Bobby chimed in with a grin, "and that you can summon tentacles? That's badass."

"Awakened abilities like yours are rare," Colossus said with a thoughtful nod. "You're a natural."

"You'd make a great addition to the team," Jean added, finally smiling my way—while very pointedly not looking at Scott.

I was just about to thank her when Xavier dropped something unexpected.

"And that," he said, "is part of the reason I've gathered you all here."

The room went quiet.

"Daniel won't be joining the team. At least… not yet."

Oh?

"Why not?" Jean frowned, her tone sharp. "He's already proven himself. He can clearly hold his own."

"He can," Xavier agreed with a sigh. "I don't doubt that."

"Then why the delay?" Ororo asked, just as puzzled.

"Because we don't yet understand the full scope of his potential," Xavier said, and for once, I wasn't sure if I believed him. "He's classified as a beyond Omega-level mutant. Which means what we've seen so far is only the beginning. If Daniel himself doesn't fully grasp the extent of his abilities… that's dangerous."

He wasn't wrong.

But also—he wasn't entirely right.

I did know more than I let on.

It's just that during the Danger Room match, lethal force was off the table. And outside of that? I had no reason to show all my cards to a man as calculating and careful as Charles Xavier.

Not yet.

"I believe it's best if he takes some time to explore his powers," Xavier said calmly, slipping his reassuring smile back on. "Train alongside all of you, learn more about the X-Gene. Let him adjust first—once he's comfortable, we can talk about him officially joining the team."

There was definitely more behind those words. Something unspoken, tucked neatly beneath the professor's diplomatic tone.

Still, the team accepted his reasoning without much resistance.

He was good with words, after all.

"That…" Jean frowned slightly, looking down, "I guess that makes sense."

"He'll still be living here, if he's okay with that," Xavier continued. "And he'll be a part of this group. He just won't be active on any missions—at least for now."

That was my cue.

"About that…" I stepped in. "I'd appreciate being allowed to get a job. I need money, and going back to my old job isn't an option."

"You'll be provided shelter, food, and basic necessities," Xavier said. "But you're right—money is still a necessity. Most of the others here take on roles like coaching or tutoring to cover personal expenses."

My personal expenses? Way more intense than most.

[Moolah System is fair.]

Of course you are…

"However," Xavier went on, his tone shifting—enough to make everyone look up—"I'm hoping to change that."

Now that got attention.

"What do you mean, Professor?" Bobby asked warily. "I just picked up a side gig—don't tell me I have to give that up?"

Xavier gave him an apologetic smile that didn't exactly inspire confidence.

"Don't worry, Bobby. What I'm about to propose is, I believe, fair for everyone."

I didn't say a word. Better to let him finish.

"Recently, I've been picking up multiple signals around the world using Cerebro. The upgrades have made it more sensitive—it can now detect even the faintest traces of an awakening X-Gene."

He looked around at us.

"And that raises a serious concern."

It took me a second to piece it together, but the answer clicked pretty fast.

Another sign that the timeline was unraveling.

"It's impossible for every new mutant to join the X-Men," Xavier admitted. "Some of them are extremely young—much younger than Illyana, even."

I already knew where this was headed.

"For these younger ones, we'll need to teach them. Not just how to use their abilities, but how to live. They'll need education, structure, guidance."

Yeah. Here it comes.

"So, for the new generation, I'm planning something a little different." His tone shifted to something more resolute. "A school. One for the gifted."

"A mutant school?" Wolverine raised an eyebrow—a reaction that echoed across the room.

"That won't be easy," Ororo added, crossing her arms.

"No, it won't," Xavier agreed. "But it's not impossible. Education is a basic right. It's the first step in helping these children feel accepted. That's why I want this mansion to be more than just a base. I want it to be a school."

Xavier's School for the Gifted.

The timeline might be off, the ages might not match up—

But this? This was inevitable.

And if he was talking about the school, he was definitely about to drop another offer.

"Since we can't hire outsiders to work here as teachers and mentors," Xavier continued, "I was hoping all of you would take on that responsibility. Naturally, you would be paid. This wouldn't be charity work—it would be a real job."

Then his eyes found me.

"That includes you, Daniel. I'd like you to consider it as well."

"That…" Bobby scratched his head. "I'll have to think about it, Professor."

"I can't say yes just yet either," Jean said. "It's a big ask."

"I'm not good with kids," Logan muttered.

Xavier gave a small, understanding sigh. "This is just a proposal. Take your time. You're free to say no. But I do hope you'll consider it."

Then, after a pause, he added the real hook.

"To sweeten the offer, I'm willing to pay significantly more than the standard salary."

That got our attention.

"How much are we talking, Professor?" Bobby asked, instantly more interested.

"Well, the average teacher salary is around $45,000. More experienced educators make closer to $60,000."

I didn't know how accurate those numbers were, but they sounded reasonable.

And $60K?

Yeah, I'd take that.

"I'm offering double," Xavier said seriously. "$120,000 a year."

"I accept."

"Me too."

Bobby and I turned to each other, realizing we'd blurted it out at the exact same time.

We might not be the sharpest duo in the room—but we sure as hell weren't dumb enough to pass on a six-figure paycheck.

That kind of money?

Most people only dream of it.

And all we had to do… was teach a few kids.

How hard could it be?

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