The sun was setting beautifully behind the row of houses that made up the small community. The grasses were freshly manicured and emerald green. Two girls ran around playing tag; one had red hair, the other had brown. The red-haired girl noticed the shiny red ball gleaming in the grass.
"Annie!" she called to the brown-haired girl. "Let's play catch!"
Annie ran to her friend as she picked up the ball. They tossed it back and forth for a few minutes before a woman stuck her head out of the door.
"Girls, come in and get cleaned up for lunch," she called them.
The red-haired girl replied, "Okay, Mommy," as she gave the ball one last toss.
The ball flew through Annie's hands over her head and bounced across the street.
"I'll get it," Annie said as she began to run across the street.
A car sped around the corner, the driver was intoxicated. The red-haired girl heard the screeching tires and turned away from the steps to look at her friend.
"ANNIE!" she screamed.
But it was too late.
CRASH!
The car collided with the young girl and continued to drive.
Jean Grey woke up from her nightmare. She's sixteen and living in a totally different environment. She clutched her heart as she pants and tears roll down her cheeks. Her room was nearly pitch black, but a small light could be seen through her curtains, signaling dawn.
Jean, a voice said in her head. Is everything okay?
Jean took a moment to collect her thought before replying in the same manner the question arrived.
Yes, Professor, Everything's fine.
She slid out of bed and flicked on her lamp, granting a decent amount of light into the room. She walked quickly to her closet and pulled out a soft pink bathrobe and her toiletry bag. She slid it on and grabbed the towel hanging on the doorknob before pulling the door open.
Her walk to the bathroom wasn't long, but it did give her unwanted time to think about her dream. That was until she noticed she wasn't alone in the hall. She had assumed all the other students were asleep, but she was wrong.
Standing in front of her was Scott Summers, the handsomest boy she had ever seen. He had perfect brown hair and he was a few inches taller than Jean, something she liked, but she had never seen his eyes for they were covered by red sunglasses. They both stared at each other for a while. Although she was telepathic, she never really wanted to listen to Scott's mind. However, if she had, she would have seen that Scott was awake for the same reason she was.
"I didn't know anyone else was up," he said, pulling his toothbrush from his mouth.
"I don't think anyone else is up," she responds.
He looked over at the door to the bathroom.
"Did you want to go first? I can wait," he offered.
She smiled as she responded, "That's nice of you, Scott. But you should go first. Everyone else will be up soon and there might not be much hot water left."
"I don't mind. I take…cold showers."
Jean couldn't help but smile, which always caused Scott to smile. They both held mutual attractions to each other, but they would never act upon them for different reasons: Jean didn't know how Scott felt about her and Scott was afraid to get close to anyone with his destructive power.
Scott turned to walk back to his room and Jean slid into the bathroom to take her shower and brush her teeth before everyone else woke up.
They were wrong, though. There was someone else up while they were. Kurt Wagner stood in the massive library, reading. Most are shocked by his appearance because he looks exactly like a blue demon. His ears were as pointed as his teeth and he had a tail that seemed to move on its own. He wore a black tank top and red and white striped boxers. He was flipping through an old black book with yellow pages; the cover was engraved in golden letters written in an ancient language.
The door to the upper level opened and Scott stepped into the room.
"I thought I heard someone in here," he replied, spotting Kurt.
"Watch out, Scott," warned Kurt, "you'll give Logan a run for his money."
Scott laughed before asking, "Why is it no one in this house can sleep?"
"We are mutants. It is in our nature to be constantly aware."
"What're you reading?" Scott walked down the stairs to the table Kurt decided to sit upon.
"The Bible in Latin."
"You can understand it?"
"Nein, but I already know it by heart."
"Then why read something you already know in a language you can't understand?"
"It is what keeps my mind busy."
Scott sat beside Kurt on the table. They sat in silence while Kurt read.
After a few minutes, Kurt slapped the ancient Bible shut and asked, "Why is it you are awake?"
Scott sighed and looked at his lap.
"I had a dream about my family," he said.
"What about them?"
"My parents died in a plane explosion and my brother was adopted years ago. I keep reliving that day in my mind and I wonder what my life would've been like if the plane never exploded."
"I also wonder what my life would have been like if I grew up with my real parents," Kurt mused.
"I thought—"
"I was adopted by a gypsy named Margali Szardos. We lived in a circus that traveled all over Germany. She had a daughter named Amanda and a son named Stefan. Sometimes I miss them. But that part of my life is over."
The two boys sat in the darkness a little while longer, the sun steadily rising from behind the hills across from the massive window.
On the roof, another pair was watching the sunrise. Warren Worthington III and Elizabeth Braddock were cuddling together, a blanket wrapped tightly around their naked bodies. Warren bent down and kissed Betsy, their hair blending into a blond mess.
"I wish we could just lie here forever," Betsy said in a British accent.
Warren couldn't speak. Betsy had done things he never knew were possible and it took everything he had to keep his voice down for fear of being caught.
"But we really should get back to our rooms," she continued.
She pulled the blanket off Warren, causing him to roll off the roof. She quickly crawled after him. But she was too slow for he had already spread his massive white wings and was flapping back onto the roof. Try as she may, she couldn't take her eyes off his impressive (in many terms) body.
"I'll fly you down," he said, slightly out of breath.
She smiled, wrapped the blanket around her body, and he cradled her body in his arms. His wings flapped in a steady motion, lowering the two of them down to Betsy's room. He gave her a swift kiss and directed his body toward his open window. Only one person was looking out at that time and she simply smiled at the sight.
Once the sun was up, the students gathered in the dining room. Jean was staring at Scott while talking to Ororo Munroe. Kitty Pryde and Bobby Drake were already arguing about some couple on some show they both enjoy while Kurt was trying to plug his ears as he read. Warren and Betsy were already dressed and feeding each other bacon while Peter Rasputin was drawing a picture of the entire scene on his pad. Emma Frost walked into the room, wearing a white silk robe with fur around the collar and wrists, brushing her blonde hair with a round brush.
"You'd never guess what I saw earlier," she announced in a fake British accent, taking a seat at the table.
Betsy sat up straight and Jean said, "Ew."
"Well, the telepath's are out," Emma remarked. "Anyone else fancy a guess?"
Emma, don't, Betsy warned.
Why not, dear Elizabeth? Emma replied.
Please, just don't. It'll embarrass Warren.
Warren can handle himself, dearie.
Listen here you wannabe English twat…
Oooo. Testy, aren't we? You catch more flies with honey.
I swear Emma…
"I saw Warren Worthington's man-flesh outside my window!" Emma screamed aloud.
Everyone stopped for a moment and looked at Emma. Warren became stricken with fear.
"What were you doing naked outside my window, Warren? Or should I say, 'who'?"
Everyone turned to look at Warren.
"Maybe you were prying into someone's dreams of me or you were dreaming yourself."
"Whatever," scoffed Emma. "I know what I saw."
"Emma, can we please finish eating?" Jean asked.
"Fine. But you'll know the truth soon. All of you."
Everyone shrugged and went back to eating.
Charles Xavier wheeled into the room, his bald head was freshly waxed and he wore an expensive suit.
"Good morning, my students," he said, cheerily. "I have good news: There will be no classes for today."
Bobby cheered—though he wasn't the only one, he was the loudest.
"Instead, you are having Danger Room sessions with Logan all day."
"What?" several of them exclaimed.
"Logan and I have found your gifts lacking, though your academics have skyrocketed. Moira and I have talked about what to do and we've both agreed that Logan's right."
Several of the looked at their plates, depressed.
"Don't look so sad. You're getting new uniforms to train in," Charles tried to raise their spirits.
They all marched to the elevator underneath between the two curved staircases, hidden as a blank stretch of mahogany wall. The plank of wood slid out of view to reveal a bright elevator. The ten of them squeezed into the square block of metal and plunged down into the basement.
Charles watched his students. A woman's hand gripped his shoulder. He turned and looked into the beautiful brown eyes of Moira Kinross.
"Did yeh tell them ev'rything, Charles?" she asked. Her voice was made of Scottish honey.
"Not everything. They'll learn soon enough," he replied. "I believe Logan will relieve me from that duty."
Down in the basement, the ten young mutants walked the semi-familiar path to what was known as the Danger Room, which they felt was a perfect name for it.
Logan stood outside the wide, silver door. His dark hair was extremely wild and he had thick stubble on his square chin. He wore his normal outfit of a white tank top, dog tags, blue jeans, and boots.
"Get down to the locker rooms and change into the uniforms in yer lockers," he said in his gruff voice.
The door slid open and Logan walked down the opposite direction toward what was called the War Room. The students stepped through the open door and down the stairs that led to the Ready Room. Three doors sat in this hall: two lead to locker rooms and the third led to the Danger Room.
"Here comes hell," Kitty muttered, getting a soft laugh from Peter.
The girls walked into the left room while the boys stepped into the right. After a few minutes allowing them all to change, they stepped into the Danger Room in their new uniforms. They were all made of a durable but stretchy material and had X's over their chests. That's where the similarities stopped.
Scott's was obviously the mold for which all the suits were made. His suite was predominantly black with a gold X. Underneath the X; there were patches of dark blue fabric cut to resemble light armor on his chest, shoulders, and inner thighs. He had a silver belt with a red X inside the round buckle. His boots and gloves were also black.
Kitty's was closest to his. Her suit was dark blue without the armor and her X was also gold. Her belt was gold with a red X in the buckle. Warren's was also dark blue, but his X and belt were white. Peter's suit was blood red where Scott's was black, sleeveless, and had a gold X. The suit Bobby wore had a light blue X over his chest and Jean's suit was dark green. Betsy's was deep purple with a pink X and sash instead of a belt. Ororo's suit was black with a silver X and she had a black cape draped across her shoulders.
The one that was the most striking was Emma's. Her suit was completely white and her X was a light gray. Her belt was also white with a gold X over a white background in the buckle. Her boots, like most of the girls', were heeled.
"Why is hers so special?" Betsy asked Logan through the window to the War Room.
"Hers was cheaper," Logan responded, wiping the smile off Emma's face and causing Bobby and Kitty to laugh. "We'll being team simulation eight-thirty."
After an hour of running drills with robots and obstacles, the students exited the Danger Room, covered in sweat. Betsy's uniform was ripped in several places.
"I kinda like it," she admitted to Jean in the locker room.
"Our suits are made of unstable molecules that adapt to our bodies and our environment," Kitty told them. "It was developed by Reed Richards."
"How do you know all this?" Ororo asked.
"I like to stay on the edge of science."
"What happens if we cut them?" asked Emma.
"They heal," Kitty answered. "The molecules aren't connected, that's why their unstable."
Emma reached into her locker and pulled out a pair of silver scissors and began cutting her uniform. She cut the sides away from the X and the area above the X, exposing her cleavage.
"I wish I could make a cape of some kind," she remarked, examining herself in the mirror.
"You can't even fly," Ororo stated.
"Why is that an issue?"
"Only people who fly should have capes."
"What about…?" supplied Emma.
"Can't think of anyone, Emma?" Jean asked.
"Shut up!"
Emma stomped off to the showers in the back of the room. Betsy eyed her scissors before snatching them off the bench. She placed her left foot on the other bench and began cutting strips of cloth from her legs and arms.
"You're going to get into trouble," Kitty sang.
"Shut up," Betsy snapped.
"Look who's the British Twins," Jean joked.
"She's not British!"
"Whatever. I'm going to see if Peter can help me design some new suits and show them to the Professor so he can order us new ones."
"That sounds great!" Kitty exclaimed, pulling her brown hair back into a ponytail.
Students! Charles's voice rang out in their heads. Please meet me in the library. There is something I wish to discuss.
They all showered and rode the elevator up to the ground floor. As they all entered the library, they spotted Charles flanked by Logan and Moira. They were all smiling as if they had some sort of exciting news.
"My children," Charles addressed. "We have all decided that being students isn't helping mutantkind. I would like to ask you all to join the likes of the Avengers and Fantastic Four."
"What are you saying, Prof.?" Bobby asked.
"I-we want you all to become heroes. Show the world that you're not to be afraid. If they can accept the Fantastic Four, then why can't they accept us? But that's only if you all agree."
The students looked around at each other. It was Scott who answered with, "We're with you one-hundred percent, Professor."
"Then let me welcome you, my X-Men."