Okay, first part's the same, and there's a bit at the end that you may recognize, but everything else has changed! Let me know what you think!

Also, just got a new keyboard and I'm still getting used to it, so if you see anything that doesn't make sense, or just needs fixing in general, let me know! :)

His irritation shone in his bright green eyes as he glanced at his cell phone once more. She was fifteen minutes late and wasn't returning his calls or texts, which wasn't that unusual for her. She was a fourteen year old girl after all. He heaved a sigh, the toe of his right sneaker bouncing up and down on the sidewalk as he impatiently tapped his foot.

"Waiting for someone?" a voice that he was sure he knew, but couldn't quite place asked from behind him.

He promptly froze after turning to face the owner of the voice, his eyes widening before quickly narrowing. An older, white haired man stood before him wearing a nicely tailored suit, but despite the change in attire, he recognized him immediately. "Magneto," he greeted in a cold tone.

The older man smiled. "It's nice to see you again as well."

Alex snorted. "Whatever." Before Magneto could say anything else, he turned his back on him and started walking off down the sidewalk.

"I've come to offer you a spot on my team one last time," Magneto continued, following Alex down the sidewalk.

Alex rolled his eyes. "I told you before; I don't want to join your team."

"So your answer is still no, then?"

"My answer is still no," Alex confirmed.

"That is a shame," Magneto said, his tone suggesting the opposite. "Catherine will be so disappointed."

Alex froze mid stride, his breath catching and his eyes widening once more. Slowly, as though fighting to move, he turned to face the older man. The smug look in those cold, blue eyes broke him out of his frozen state. Rage surged through him as he glared at the man.

"If you hurt her," he seethed, and he could feel energy running through his body toward his hands.

"Relax, Alex," Magneto replied, his ice blue eyes moving to settle on the teen's clenched fists. "Catherine is fine, and she will remain so as long as you follow orders. Defy me in any way, and you will never see her again." Those cold eyes narrowed on Alex's still clenched fists. "Relax," he repeated, his tone commanding, "Or shall I have Victor pay Catherine a visit?"

Alex frowned, confusion mixing with the rage burning in his eyes. "Victor?"

Alex hadn't noticed the limo pull up to the curb beside them, but his eyes quickly shifted to it when the back door opened. A blond man a couple of inches taller than Alex stepped out onto the curb, his feral appearance drawing stares from the passersby. There was a cold, cruel air about him that sent a shiver down Alex's spine.

"I'd like you to meet Victor Creed," the white haired man said, waving a hand in the blond man's direction. "Or Sabertooth, as he prefers to be called."

Sabertooth sent a sinister smile in Alex's direction and flexed his left hand, drawing Alex's eyes first to his deadly fangs then to the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers. "So this is the brother?"

The question was directed at Magneto, who nodded. "Yes. This is Alex."

"Feisty thing, that brat sister of yours," Sabertooth taunted, that sinister smile back on his lips.

Alex paled, his rage fading quickly, only to be replaced by a sick feeling. His eyes darted between Sabertooth and Magneto a few times before finally settling on the latter. "Y-you said she was fine."

A sinister chuckle passed through Sabertooth's lips as Magneto responded, "She is fine. I assure you that Victor did not harm the girl on my orders, but he will be more than happy to oblige if I give him different orders." Sabertooth flexed his hand again, as if itching to dig his claws into someone. "Now, is your answer still the same?"

Alex's shoulders slumped in defeat. Of course his answer had changed. He couldn't risk losing Catherine. She was the only family he had left. "No," he replied with a sigh. "No, it's changed. I'll join your team."

"Excellent," Magneto replied, a small, smug smile dancing across his lips. He motioned with one hand toward the limo. "Shall we go then?"

Alex nodded, feeling defeated and lost as he climbed into the sleek, black car. He slumped in his seat, turning to lean his forehead against the cool glass of the tinted window, his thoughts drifting to his sister.

'Hang on, Cate,' he thought even though he knew she couldn't hear him. 'I'll find a way to get us out of this mess. I promise.'

He raised one hand to knock on the door in front of him and waited for someone to answer. That someone was a stunning older woman with ebony black hair that fell in a straight, shining curtain to her waist. She was shorter than him, probably no taller than 5'4", with a petite, delicate frame and curves in all the right places. The plain blue jean shorts and black tank top she wore revealed an ample amount of bronze colored skin. A perfectly shaped eyebrow arched over one of her deep, chocolate brown eyes as she studied him.

"May I help you?" she asked in a somewhat diluted accent he couldn't quite place. It definitely wasn't an accent one would normally associate with London, he knew that much.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle," he greeted, flashing her his most charming smile. "De name's Remy LeBeau. I work for a man named Erik Lensherr," it felt weird not speaking in third person, and even weirder calling Magneto by his actual name, "who helps talented people like your daughter."

"What do you mean," she began, a dangerous tone in her voice, "like my daughter?"

Remy reached up with one hand to remove the sunglasses he was wearing. He watched her eyes widen as she took in his unique eyes, red irises set against black scleras. Lowering his voice, he added, just for emphasis, "People wit' unusual abilities."

"Of course," she muttered, nodding as she stepped aside. "Come in."

He stepped past her into the house, arching one eyebrow as he looked around. It was big enough for three people, but small enough to feel homey. As she moved past him to lead him into the family room, he took in every piece of décor and furniture he saw. There was nothing too extravagant, nothing too ostentatious. It was all very tasteful and practical. Not what Remy had been expecting at all.

"Please, have a seat," the woman told him as she crossed the room to a sliding, wooden door. She slid it open just enough to poke her head through. She said something Remy couldn't quite make out to whomever was on the other side of the door before sliding the door shut again. "My husband will be right out." She told him as she moved to sit on the loveseat across from the chair he had chosen to sit in. "I'm Chione Richardson, by the way."

Remy took her offered hand, noting that her name was just as unique as her faint accent, but instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips. "A pleasure t' meet you, Chione," he said after placing a kiss on the back of her hand, flashing her another charming smile.

Her eyebrow arched at the way he said her name, like he was trying to entice her to do something she normally wouldn't. She pulled her hand away, a smile stretching across her full lips. "You can try and charm me all day long, Mr. LeBeau, but it won't work."

"Had t' try," he said, his charming smile transforming into a playful grin.

The sliding door opened again before Chione got the chance to respond. The man that stepped out didn't instill one ounce of fear in Remy by looks alone. He was shorter than Remy, reaching a height of only 5'11", with a lean build that came from exercising. His hair was a dirty blonde, and though he kept it short, one could tell it had a natural wave to it. His eyes were a dancing sky blue, his thin lips set into a friendly smile. The button up shirt he wore matched his eyes. The blue jeans covering his lower half had holes in the knees, probably a favorite pair.

"Hello, Mr. LeBeau, was it?" he greeted as he reached the loveseat his wife was occupying. His accent was definitely right at home here in London. He held out a hand to Remy. "Arthur Richardson."

Remy took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Nice t' meet you, sir."

"Please, call me Arthur," he said cheerily, plopping down beside his wife. Next to her, Arthur Richardson's skin was almost ghostly pale. "Chione here tells me you've come to make us an offer?"

Remy studied the couple across from him before he spoke. Chione sat up straight, her posture perfect and her eyes calculating. Arthur was the exact opposite, lounging comfortably and giving off an air of complete ease. If Remy were going off of this alone, he'd fear Chione far more than he would Arthur.

But Remy was no fool. He knew that fathers of only daughters could become downright sadistic when their little girls were put in harm's way. And it didn't help that Arthur Richardson was a best selling author who's main characters never resembled normal looking humans. The man that his soon to be sister-in-law, Mercy, called a literary god had a very active imagination. Remy had no doubts that he could think up some truly terrifying forms of torture.

"Oui," he said, nodding. "De man I work for, he can help your daughter learn t' control her abilities. So dat no one else gets hurt."

"So," Arthur drawled, arching an eyebrow at the younger man, "you're a teacher of sorts?"

"Of sorts," Remy replied without blinking. Now he knew why Magneto had sent him. Out of all of Magneto's newly acquired Acolytes, he was the best at lying.

"And this, ah, school, for lack of a better term, you work for," Chione began, "where is it located?"

"New York," he told them. "Near a small town called Bayville, to be exact."

"New York?" Arthur said, his casual position forgotten as he sat straight up. "No, absolutely not! You are not carting my little girl off across the world!"

"Daddy," a new voice pleaded from the doorway leading to the hall. Remy noted that while this voice held the same British accent that Arthur had, there was also a hint of the much more exotic accent Chione spoke with. "Please let me go."

Remy turned to take in the newcomer. The girl standing there would be the same height as her mother if it weren't for the knee high, heeled boots she was wearing. She also had the woman's wide eyes and full, pouty lips, but that's where the resemblance ended. The girl's skin was the color of caramel, complimented by wavy locks of chocolate brown that ended around the middle of her back. Her eyes were a dark forest green, completely different from either of her parents. She had the lithe, toned body of a gymnast, with just the right amount of curves for her petite frame. Her clothes were not as casual as the ones her parents bore. A gold top that stopped just above her belly button with vented, belled sleeves that fell to her elbows paired with a black jean skirt.

Chione smiled as she introduced her daughter. "Remy LeBeau, this is our daughter, Inara. Inara, this is Remy LeBeau."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. LeBeau," Inara said, crossing the room and offering him her hand.

"A pleasure, petite," he said, taking her hand and bestowing a kiss on the back of it.

Arthur cleared his throat, sending Remy a glare before turning his attention to his daughter, a pained expression crossing his features. "Inara, honey, you don't have to go gallivanting off to the other side of the world. Your mother and I are more than willingly to give you whatever you need to get your gift under control."

"I know you are Daddy," she told him, smiling as she moved to perch on the arm of the loveseat beside him. "But these people are like me," she said, gesturing to Remy and his unique eyes. "They have a better understanding of what I need."

"But with you across the ocean, we'll never see you," he said, placing a hand on top of one of hers.

"She can always come back t' visit," Remy lied smoothly. A twinge of guilt shot through him, but he never let it show.

"See?" Inara said, giving her father a reassuring smile. "Please, Daddy. I want to go with him."

When Arthur still didn't look entirely convinced, Chione put in, "This is ultimately her decision, Arthur."

Arthur sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He knew she was right. He just didn't want to admit it. "fine," he finally consented in a grumble. "But I want you to take your laptop! Email me every day, understand?"

Inara's eyes lit up as she threw her arms around her father's neck. "Of course, Daddy," she agreed, a wide smile on her lips. "I promise."

Another twinge of guilt shot through Remy, but again, he didn't let it show. Tearing families apart by skillfully lying to them had not been part of his job description. If his Tante found out about this, he'd never hear the end of it.

Alexander Rogers was not a small guy by any means. Standing at 6'4" and weighing roughly 250 pounds, he was often referred to as a solid brick of muscle. So even without adding his mutant abilities to the equation, it was upon very rare occasions that he was intimidated. This was one of those rare occasions.

Standing before him was a man at least a foot taller than him. A man who appeared to be made entirely out of metal and probably weighed a good 500 pounds. His eyes were completely white and showed not even the slightest sign of emotion.

"Ah, Colossus," Magneto greeted the metal man. "I'd like for you to meet Dynamo, our newest Acolyte."

Colossus studied the other teen, his eyes taking in the wavy blonde hair that was parted down the middle and ended just past the teen's shoulders. His bright green eyes were wide with astonishment, the same emotion clear on his facial features. His attire was simple enough, a black t-shirt and blue jeans shorts with black sneakers finishing up the look.

"Welcome," Colossus said, the word spoken in a deep, Russian accent. Though his tone wasn't exactly cold, it wasn't warm either.

"Uh, thanks," Alex said, unsure of how to take the metal man's neutral tone.

"Show Dynamo to his room," Magneto ordered, ice blue eyes focused on Colossus. "And then bring him to the war room. Gambit should be back by then with another recruit."

"Follow me," Colossus told the younger boy, powering down as he turned his back on Magneto.

Alex watched as the metal slid out of existence, leaving lightly tanned skin in its wake. Without his metal, Colossus only stood a couple of inches taller than Alex. His hair was still black, but not the shiny, metallic black it had been and his eyes were now a light blue. He wore a black, sleeveless body suit with a red and gold belt, a red chest plate, and gold shoulder plates. Red boots completed the outfit.

"My name is Piotr Rasputin," Colossus informed him once they were out of Magneto's hearing range. "Here in America, I am called Peter."

"Alexander Rogers," Alex replied, relaxing a little at the friendly tone in Peter's voice. "But I go by Alex. Uh, what's the war room?"

"It is where we gather to discuss missions," Peter said.

"He's already sending me on a mission?" Alex asked, surprised evident in his tone.

"No," Peter replied, shaking his head. "If I am assuming right, Amun will be waiting in the war room."

"Who's Amun?' Alex asked, growing more confused by the second. "And why will he be waiting?"

"Amun is Magneto's pet," Peter said in a highly disgusted tone. "He will be waiting to assign your cuffs."

"Cuffs?" Alex echoed.

"Da," Peter said with a nod, raising one hand to draw Alex's attention to one of the chrome bracelets circling his wrists. "It is how he assures our cooperation."

"What do they do?"

"I am afraid," Peter sighed, lowering his head slightly. "That you will have to find out on your own. I am not at liberty to discuss it."

Alex glanced at the chrome bracelets once again as he continued to follow Peter through the metal hallways, wondering what exactly he'd gotten himself into.

And that's the new first chapter. Hope it was to everyone's liking!