Author's notes (A/N from here on): First of all, thanks for reading this story. Since it's my first story I'm not quite sure how good it's going to be. I appreciate all constructive criticism and good or bad reviews. Please don't flame though, it wastes both your time and mine.

Secondly, as for this story, it is going to be the first in what will (hopefully) be several stories. I actually already have planned out at least four more after this one. Also, in the story itself, Quotes are speaking, Italics are thinking. There will be a chapter later on that I will be replaying a memory, I'm not sure yet how that is going to be formatted.

Third, I DON'T OWN X-MEN EVOLOUTION! This is just something I'm making because it's been stuck in my head for a while. This story, as well as any that follow it, are set in an alternate version of the Evolution storyline. As such, some of the ages and abilities of the characters may be changed slightly, as well as their alignment, but for the most part, I'm going to try to stay true to the establishment. Note also that because this is an AU fic certain things that happened in the cartoon will not have happened here.

Fourth, the first couple chapters will be fairly tame, as I'll be concentrating on introducing some of the characters. After that, however, there will be quite a bit of violence and some swearing. I will be referencing and to some extent detailing some personal relationships, and not all of them will be guy-girl. I probably won't be writing any graphic sex scenes, as I'm not good at writing that stuff, however, I do have planned a few instances of very much R-rated material in the future. For now, I'm going to keep this story rated T but I might change it to M once it gets going, because I know it's going to be on the edge, if not over it. (Actually, can you change the rating once you've started posting?)

And with that, it's time to get on with the story.

Chapter 1- Arrival

Inside a hallway of shining silver metal, a man in a wheelchair rolls slowly down it. His face was locked in a look of concern and worry. So consumed was he by his thoughts that he almost jumped when he heard a low, gruff voice behind him. "You look troubled, Professor."

Stopping at the voice, he waited for the man behind him to catch up to him. "Good evening, Logan." he said, in a soft and kind voice, as he looked over his friend. Logan was wearing his usual attire, denim pants with a white shirt. His leather jacket had been removed and was currently draped over his right arm. His black hair was in his usual strange style, and his face as always was mostly unshaved. Although he looked like he was in his mid-thirties, anyone who knew him knew he was actually much older than that. "You're right, I am troubled. I have been trying to track several mutants in Cerebro, but lately my thoughts have been continually drifting towards Europe for some unknown reason."

Logan scoffed at the Professor's comments. He put the leather jacket on as the two began walking again. "You know that Magneto's there."

"Yes, he is. But I doubt that's the reason." The professor sighed and closed his eyes for a second before continuing. "For the last few years I have been able to detect a powerful presence there. The presence has moved around quite a bit, as if it has been hiding. I have been able to determine that this presence is definitely a mutant, however, I can't say any more than that. The troubling thing is that sometimes I cannot sense that presence at all, as if the mutant is aware and blocking me."

Logan looked at his friend surprised. "Blocking you? You think the mutant has telepathic abilities? Chuck, I hate to say it, but maybe you're slipping a little."

Charles smiled at Logan as they reached a doorway, and Logan gave him a knowing smirk. "I do not know what the powers of this mutant are, only that when I can sense him, I am filled with both concern and hope. And..." He tensed up slightly, as if something had struck him. The smirk on Logan's face vanished in an instant.

"What's wrong, Charles?"

Charles didn't answer immediately, his mouth was open slightly as a gasp left it. When he did find his voice, it was barely a whisper, and the concern in it was quite obvious. "He's here."

"What do you mean here? The mutant is now in Bayville?"

"No, Logan, he's here, on the grounds."

Indeed, outside a metal gate swung closed behind a man. The streetlights behind him cast a foreboding shadow upon the driveway as he walked through the cold November evening toward a large mansion. Because of the lack of light, it was impossible to see much of the man. All that could be seen was that he had a hood over his head and a long dark brown jacket swaying behind him as he walked. His footsteps were silent and cautious, as if he was trying not to be seen or heard. As he reached the front door to the mansion, he paused a minute. Looking around as if making sure nobody had seen him, he sighed softly and rang the doorbell. A few voices could be heard faintly from the other side of the door, apparently some people were in a room near it.

After about a minute, the door was opened by a dark skinned woman. She appeared to be in her mid thirties and physically quite fit, though her white hair that hung partway down her back made her appear to be older. She didn't appear to be very happy that someone was at the door this late, and her voice was cold as she answered the door. "Can I help you?"

In the little light that came from the entryway behind her, the woman could see very little of the man outside as he spoke. "I need to see Professor Xavier."

Great, either he hadn't noticed she was not happy someone was here, which was pretty dumb, or he didn't care, which was even dumber. "Do you realize that it's after 9:30?"

"I'm well aware of the time, and I do apologize for the lateness of my arrival, however I don't intend to leave this mansion until I've spoken to him, even if I have to wait until tomorrow morning."

There seemed to be a tone of confidence or cockiness in the man's voice, the woman couldn't tell which. For some reason, though his tone and his presence seemed to make her nervous and she didn't know why. "Why do you wish to see him?"

"I'm afraid that's between myself and him."

She realized suddenly that he was almost provoking her, trying to make her angry. Before she could respond any further, however, a new voice appeared, at least in her head. Storm, bring him into the den. I will meet with him shortly.

The man scoffed as soon as the voice stopped, and Storm was suddenly wondering if the man had known of the instructions she'd been given. Putting the idea in the back of her mind she stepped aside to let him enter. "Come on in."

She did as she was asked and led him into the den. As she did so, she was able to get a better look at the man. The hood that he wore was actually attached to a sweatshirt that he was wearing underneath the black jacket. The sweatshirt itself was not black, as she'd first thought, but rather a fairly dark red color. His jacket, which he had begun to remove as they walked, was not leather, as it had first appeared, but rather some sort of synthetic material. The man had on some sort of black gloves, not winter ones, but ones that appeared to be used more for sports. He was wearing dark blue denim jeans and black and gray shoes, though she didn't recognize the brand. After a few seconds, she realized that the jeans were cut and torn in places and there were red stains, which she could only assume was blood, near many of them.

But it was his face, really, that surprised her the most. Despite the fact that it was quite dark outside, the man was wearing sunglasses. She could see brown hair coming from underneath the hood of the sweatshirt, it appeared that it hadn't been cut in a while, as it was long enough to partially cover the sunglasses. He also had a bit of a full beard, it had probably been about a week since he'd shaved.

"Can I take your jacket for you?" She was still quite cold in her tone, but had softened somewhat with the knowledge that the professor was on his way.

"No, thanks, I think I'll keep it with me. I don't know how long I'll be staying here." His face showed little emotion, and she wasn't sure what exactly he was thinking.

"All right. I'm going to go see if I can find the professor." She turned and fairly quickly strode from the room leaving the man to sit down in one of the couches. He folded his arms over his chest, and to anyone looking at him, he appeared to be sleeping.

A few minutes later the professor and Logan came into the room from an entryway behind where the man was sitting. They were both surprised, though Logan was more than Charles, when the man began to speak without even turning his head. "Hello, Professor. It is nice to finally meet you in person." He paused a second before adding, "I see you brought a bodyguard with you. I suppose I can't blame you, though I didn't come here for a fight."

Charles didn't respond immediately, as he wheeled himself around so that he sat facing the man, looking at him and studying him. He tried to enter the mystery man's mind, but found himself unable to do so, though for some reason he didn't find that surprising. "You are the one I've been tracking?"

The man smiled slightly at Xavier's statement. "Yes, I am. Though, your tracking hasn't been extremely successful, has it." Charles frowned at having his failure pointed out to him, but before he could say anything the man continued speaking. "As you are obviously aware, and as I assume you've told him, I am a mutant. Also, you have probably guessed by now at least part of my mutation."

Charles nodded, but Logan was the one to speak this time. "You're a telepath, aren't you?"

"Among other things, yes." Although they couldn't see it for the tint in the glasses, the man's gaze had gone from Charles to Logan as he spoke. "And it appears, at least from what I've seen..." He pointed to his head as he spoke. "That you and I have somewhat similar pasts."

Now Charles spoke again. "What exactly are you doing here? What do you want from us?"

The man stood up and started pacing around in front of the couch for a few seconds before he spoke. "In a word, I'd like refuge. Asylum. Call it what you want, but for the last four years I've been running and to be perfectly honest I'm quite sick and tired of it." As he spoke his voice got a little more angry and with the anger a faint accent appeared. Charles recognized it as British, but he couldn't place it any more specifically than that. He noted that it seemed as if the man speaking hadn't noticed the change in his voice.

"Who are you running from?" Charles was curious as much as anything at this point. He honestly had no idea of where the man before him had come from, and that concerned him greatly. Apparantly, the question was not what the man had expected as he stopped dead in his tracks for a second before turning around to face Charles and Logan once again.

"They have no name, they only refer to themselves as 'The Organization.' They are a Black Ops military group based in Europe and led by an American general. Twenty years ago, while my family was on vacation in Switzerland, I was kidnapped by agents of this group. For the next fifteen years, I was experimented on and trained as a soldier and assassin. Five years ago, I found out about their true purpose and rebelled against them. They have hunted me ever since."

Charles' look of concern changed to one of almost pity as th man started his tale, then changed to one of fear as he asked a question to which he could almost guess the answer already. "What is their true purpose?"

The man sighed as he sat back down in the couch where he had been when his companions had entered the room. He removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly before answering that question. "They seek to remove all mutants from the population. And they're using mutants to do it."

He opened his eyes after saying this and both Charles and Logan gasped as he did so, as much to their surprise, his eyes were glowing. The man must have realized this as he groaned softly and blinked his eyes rapidly a few times and the glowing disappeared. He then chuckled slightly before commenting, "The only part of my mutation that I cannot control. It is why I always wear these." He put the sunglasses back on and sighed once more before speaking again. "I don't even know why my eyes glow, according to one of the doctors that helped fix me, it is a side effect of the alterations."

Charles was the first to recover from his shock at what he'd seen and heard, and thus was the one who asked first. "What do you mean by 'alterations?'"

"The Organization performed genetic experiments on humans, turning them into mutants, and on mutants in an attempt to increase their abilities. I was kidnapped young enough that I hadn't yet begun to show any signs of being a mutant, so I was considered human. Apparantly, they altered my genetic code to give me psychic powers. Unfortunately for me, I did have a natural mutation, and once it kicked in, the two powers grew into conflict with each other. I had to live for over ten years that way because the Organization either couldn't or wouldn't fix the problem that this created. After I broke free from my captors, I realized that the conflict in the powers was killing me and sought help from someone I believed I could trust."

Even with the sunglasses, it was obvious that he was crying at this memory, as tears started to flow out the sides. As he continued speaking, the accent reappeared. "It took them almost six months to figure out what the Organization had done to me. In the end though, they did fix me up, but in doing so they also acquired the attention of that bloody Organ-." He stopped short, the sadness he had almost instantly replaced by anger as he silently cursed himself before continuing, without the accent. "Sorry about that. Since I've been on the run I've been forced to pick up several accents to blend in with those around me. Unfortunately, sometimes even when I don't want to use one, it'll slip in there."

Logan took the opportunity to speak up once again. "So you're not really from Europe then?"

The man laughed lightly at Logan's question. "No, I was born in the Midwest, and spent the first few years of my life there. My dad was a retired soldier, and he was actually working as a personal security consultant. It's too bad that I don't remember a whole lot about that time."

Charles spoke up once again. "Well, I think we can let you stay here for a little while, at least. That is, if you'll agree to a few conditions."

"Name them."

"First, I'd like to get a complete physical of you. Blood work, urine sample, complete DNA profile, everything. Second, I'd like you to be available if I have further questions for you. To be honest, I don't think I've ever seen or heard anything quite like your story, so I may have more questions once I've been able to process all you've told me."

"That will be no problem. I have nowhere else to go, sir."

"Very well, then. This is Doctor Henry McCoy. He's also known as Beast, for obvious reasons." The professor pointed behind the man who turned around and came face to face with a blue furred man who was just a little shorter than himself, but appeared to be much stronger. "He is the staff doctor, and he'll be taking care of the exams. Hank, if it's not too much trouble, could you let him stay in your lab tonight? We don't have another room made up, and it's too late to try to make one now."

"No problem, Professor. If you would come this way please." Hank motioned for the man to follow him as he walked out of the room. Before he could get too far though, Charles had one more question for him.

"I apologize, but I didn't get your name."

The man stopped and turned around, looking at Charles and Logan with a small smile on his face "My name's John." He paused for a second before adding, "Kerogi." He then turned and followed Beast out of the room.

A/N: Well, that's chapter 1, I'm going to try to post one chapter per week, but I can't guarantee anything. Next chapter will mostly be John getting tested by Hank.