Mr. and Mrs. Dane had an unexpected visitor at their home on an otherwise perfect Friday morning. Mr. Dane regarded the bald man in the wheelchair with a degree of skepticism, especially when he said he was interested in his only daughter.
"Now, Mr. Xavier, I understand where you're comin' from, I do, it's just that I'm not sure about sendin' my only little girl to some fancy school in New York at this moment," Mr. Dane said, stroking his thick red beard.
"I understand that, Mr. Dane," Xavier said in his most calming voice. "It's difficult sending a child away and I think we'd have a better chance of making a decision if we included Lorna in this discussion."
Mr. Dane looked over at his wife, her deep brown eyes full of concern. After a minute, he sighed. "Mr. Xavier, I'm sure you realize that my daughter is…unique and different, even with her green hair, but what exactly would you do?"
"My school is designed to tutor young people as unique as your daughter in how to control their…abilities," Xavier said, choosing his words carefully, an experience he remembered from trying to convince Kitty's parents to let her attend his school. He didn't want to upset this quaint family any more than he had to. "I would have brought one of my students but they are currently in class right now."
"Oh, that's quite all right," Mrs. Dane said. "I'm sure that she would like to hear about this."
Mr. Dane was still skeptical about the whole deal but he resigned himself. "Okay, Mr. Xavier, when my daughter comes home, you can plead your case then. I would greatly appreciate it, however, that you don't mention this to any of our neighbors. They think she's strange enough as it is."
Xavier nodded in full understanding. "You will have nothing to worry about, Mr. Dane. This conversation shall not be repeated beyond this house."
Their meeting ending for now, Mrs. Dane helped Xavier outside to his Rolls-Royce parked across the street. She bid him an informal farewell as Xavier lifted into the backseat of his car by the mechanical platform that slid from under the chassis. Once inside, he addressed Storm, who was waiting patiently at the wheel.
"Well, Professor?" she asked.
"We're going to have to wait a little while longer, Ororo," Xavier sighed. "I hope the girl proves to be a bit more open minded about what we have to offer than her father."
The lunch bell rang, and Peter scrambled to get all his stuff ready for the second half of the day. Once he nearly emptied his locker, he checked his bag one more time.
Books, binders, mask, gloves, boots, shooters, he thought methodically. Everything's here. He still found it odd that he actually took the time to bring his Spider-Man gear with him, but it was one of those weird habits he just couldn't shake, considering that Matt Murdock always had his Daredevil billy club at the ready.
Rogue came up to him and leaned against the bank of lockers. "So you do wear other colors, eh, Clark?" she said with a wide grin, indicating the black sleeves sticking out of his shirt. They hadn't run into each other this morning, for Rogue was forced to ride in the X-Van with the New Mutants and Peter hitched a ride with Scott and the other X-Men.
"Why, yes, Lois," Peter said. "You know us Kansas farm boys, can't get anywhere just wearin' red and blue." He then zipped up his pack and flung it over his shoulder. "You didn't come here just for making chitchat about my fashion choices. What's up?"
Rogue sighed. "There's some buzz goin' around the Institute that you're gonna be an X-Man soon and Wolverine's gonna put you through a hard-as-nails training simulation to test ya."
"Yeah, so?" Peter said. "What's the big deal?"
Rogue was a bit put off by the comment. "We train on a very deadly level," she explained firmly. "Those simulations hurt and you witnessed what happened to us yesterday."
"Yeah, that was rough," Peter stated, closing his locker, "going up against a not-too entirely accurate simulation of an irresistible force. So, how do you stop him? 'Cause from what I saw, he was knocking you around like a couple of rag dolls."
"We have to get that helmet of his off and either Jean or the Professor attacks his mind," Rogue explained.
"Because his body's so impervious to anything else, right?" Peter said. Rogue nodded.
"So what about that simulation wasn't accurate?" the Southern Goth asked."It seemed like the real thing to me."
"Well, typically, a juggernaut, or an irresistible force, cannot be typically stopped once it starts moving," Peter explains, taking a deep breath. "There are only two things I can think of that can actually stop an irresistible force: another irresistible force or an immovable object, both of which are ofthe same mass and density. Of course, Scott's high-powered concussion beams would've only had enough force to actually slow him down, not stop him dead in his tracks and hurl him backwards, which is what kinda happened until he lost conciousness."
"And an immovable object is…?" Rogue said, intrigued.
"It's essentially a body of mass, that when standing still or slowly moving, cannot be budged due to the massive amount of gravity it needs to stay on the ground." Peter looks around for a good example of an immovable object and settles on a fat kid in overwallswith a mohawk raiding a nearby candy machine. "Take that guy for instance. He must weigh, what, at least 300 pounds?"
"More like 500 and change," said Rogue. "I get what you're gettin' at, I really do. And if he was a little bigger?"
Peter was a little surprised by Rogue's interest in his knowledge about irresistible forces and immovable objects, considering most of it came from on-the-job experience as Spider-Man. "Okay, if that guy put on a couple more hundred pounds, chances are he could actually stop your rampaging football player, so long as he standing still or walking slowly in a straight line."
"Wow, this is very interesting," Rogue said. "And I'm not just sayin' it. How do you know all this stuff anyway?"
Before Peter could come up with a plausible answer, he was hit with an intense attack from his spider-sense that seemed to coincide with the appearance of Rogue's friend Risty.
"Hey Rogue," she said and they began chatting back and forth.
Peter wasn't sure what his spider-sense was trying to warn him, but he seldom ever did if the threat wasn't coming straight at him. He tried ignoring it as best as he could and something happened.
"Uh-oh," he whispered to himself, now seeing everything in a mix of grayscale and bleeding colors.
The next thing that happened was he experienced partial hearing loss in one ear and some strange form of white noise in the other. He found himself staring at the two girls as they bantered back and forth about something. Peter couldn't make it out but thought he should at least appear to look interested, even with a murderous headache suddenly trying to drill through his skull. Out of all the distortion that was currently blocking his hearing, something immediately grabbed his attention.
"Wicked cool," Peter heard Risty mutely say just before she walked off.
Peter waited until she was completely gone from sight. "Interesting friend you have there," he said with what he perceived to be his normal tone.
"Yeah, I think so too," Rogue agreed. She turned to face Peter. "You should cut down on the fried foods. You're starting to break out."
"Huh?" Peter said, his hearing coming back in a rush.
"You've got a serious acne breakout," Rogue explained, making a waving motion across her face, and left for the cafeteria.
Peter ran his hand over his face and found evidence of a recent acne breakout. "Not as bad as the last time this happened," he muttered, remembering what happened shortly before he learned Norman Osborn's tabloid-worthy secret. Bobby ran by and Peter grabbed him by the arm.
"You're not gonna bust my head open, are you?" the younger mutant asked, a bit nervously.
Peter fixed him with an odd stare. "Uh…no. You're from Boston, right?"
Bobby was a little unsure of where this was going. "Uh, yeah. What's that got to do with anything?"
"And people from Boston say 'wicked cool', right?"
"Uh, yeah, we do. This goin' somewhere? 'Cause it's pizza day and they go fast."
"Not entirely sure." Peter released his grip. "Sorry. You all right?"
"I'll be fine. See ya later." Bobby took off at a breakneck speed down the hall, nearly running into Jubilee.
Peter was left alone with his thoughts for a good few minutes and two questions kept repeating in his head. If Risty really is from England, why does she use New England slang? And why does she keep setting my spider sense on fire?
"Gimme Doc Ock any day," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "At least with him, I know what's settin' it off."
Lorna Dane ran home on what she considered to be the best Friday ever. No weekend homework, the sun was shining and she hadn't caused any problems with her school's lockers in almost a week. Her long emerald locks billowed behind her as she came to a stop before her house. She noticed an expensive, classic model Rolls-Royce across the street but didn't pay it much attention as she went inside; picking up a soda can the garbage men missed this morning. She was more than a little surprised to see her folks home so early in the day but it was the bald man in the wheelchair that quickly got her attention.
"Hello, Lorna," the wheelchair man said.
"Uh…hi," Lorna replied as she dropped her bag to the floor. "Mom, what's goin' on?"
"Lor, this is Professor Xavier and he came all the way from New York just to see you," Mrs. Dane said in as much of a calming voice she could manage.
"Uh…okay." Lorna cautiously approached her parents. "Is he, like, one of those relatives we don't often see 'cause of what Dad did at a family reunion a couple years ago?"
Her father sighed. "No, Lorna. Mr. Xavier here wants to enroll you in his 'special' school."
"Special how?" Lorna asked, becoming slightly unnerved. "Girls with green hair special or that type of special Uncle Joey is?"
Xavier wheeled himself closer to Lorna and cleared his throat. "Special in meaning unique traits, Ms. Dane."
"Oh, so you know then," Lorna said, taking a seat on the couch, and strangely calm. "Am I a freak?"
That comment warranted a loud sob from Mrs. Dane and Mr. Dane tried his best to console her.
"Not in the slightest, Lorna," Xavier reassured her. "My school teaches young people how to use their unique abilities effectively and how to control them."
"So it's like an academy of sorts," Lorna said. "Sounds cool but I don't think I'm ready to move out to New York just yet."
Mrs. Dane fixed her daughter with quizzical glare. "You seem to be taking this a little too well, Lor," she said.
"Mom, up until a few months ago, you and Dad had me dye my hair my brown to be more 'normal.' I think I can take the news about enlisting in a school of similar people like me a little better than you think." Lorna turned her attention from her mother and looked back to Xavier. "Do you need an answer right now?"
"No," answered the Professor. You can have all the time you need to think about it, Lorna. But just tell me, what is it you can do?"
Lorna was a bit surprised at the question, since this guy went to all the trouble of tracking her down, but she complied. "I can move and manipulate things with my mind."
"Oh?" Xavier said, intrigued. "What kind of things?" His eyes suddenly widened when he felt a strange humming sound reverberate through the small living room.
The green-haired girl brought the can in her hand into full view of Xavier. It suddenly bent and twisted into numerous shapes until forming into a crude replica of the Statue of Liberty.
"Metal things," Lorna said curtly, the can returning into its normal form.
"Oh, dear," Xavier whispered.
Cyclops, Jean, Rogue, Kitty, Nightcrawler, and Spyke were ready for their daily training session. The inorganic steel of the Danger Room suddenly melted away and was replaced with a desolate landscape filled with craters and floating rock formations.
Wolverine's voice seemed to be coming from the sky. "All right, X-Men, here's the situation: All that stands between you and your ride back to Earth is my good friend Sabretooth, but he ain't alone. Take him or his buddies out is your call, but if any of you get pasted, the course stops and you have to run it again. Best way to kick off a Friday afternoon, wouldn't ya say?"
The X-Men groaned slightly. A three-tone beep resonated across the alien world and they sprang into action. Smoke, crimson beams and large chunks of landscape were thrown about in an erratic fashion. Up in the control room, Wolverine observed the team with a fang-bearing grin. Cyclops was certainly becoming more of a leader these days, and was as much a tactician as Storm is. His enhanced hearing picked up the low hiss of the control room's elevator and the new guy stepped out.
"A bit much, don't you think?" Peter asked.
The grin didn't leave the older mutant's face as he continued to observe the team. "Naw. They can take it. It's you I'm worried about."
"Really?" Peter now wore an expression of genuine surprise. "Why?"
"The Prof and Beast seem to be under the impression that you got what it takes to be an X-Man," Wolverine explains, now facing the teenager. "I, on the other hand, require a bit more convicin'. I'm sure someone told you about me puttin' you through the ringer."
"Yeah. Rogue. Whatcha got in mind?"
A shark-like grin came across Wolverine's face. "You'll see." He looked back at the team to check on their progress. They were currently heading for the finish line with a trail of scattered robot parts behind them and an irate simulation of Sabretooth in hot pursuit.
"You'd better get ready, kid. You're almost up." He turned around and Peter was already gone. "Smart kid."
The X-Men were almost to the finish line. Cyclops took up the rear, using his optic blasts to discourage Sabretooth. The feral mutant wasn't the least bit deterred by the barrage of concussive energy beams coming from the young X-Man's eyes.
"Go, go, go!" Cyclops shouted to the team. "I'll fend him off!"
The rest of the team reluctantly crossed the finish line but the simulation didn't end. Cyclops adjusted his visor to fire a beam four feet across. If Beast was right about this, the next beam he fired could exert 500 pounds per square inch at a target 50 feet away.
The crimson energy ignited from his visor and Sabretooth was back with enough force to smash through a floating rock formation.
Woozily, Scott crossed the finish line and collapsed. The simulation faded away and Peter slowly approached them, clapping his hands. He was still wearing the costume he made in secret last night, except it was hidden under his New Mutant uniform.
"Man, you guys are a six-mutant demolition crew," Peter said.
Cyclops struggled to stand. "Yeah, well, we've had a lot of practice." He immediately dropped to the ground when he managed to stand up. Peter helped him and tried to get him balanced.
"You all right, man?" Peter's concern was highly evident.
"Yeah, it's just I'm not use to exerting that much power all of a sudden. Guess I still haven't recovered since the last session." Cyclops adjusted his visor for a more comfortable fit.
A large section of the Danger Room's far wall opened up and the X-Men made their way towards it.
"Good luck, dude," Evan said.
"You're going to need it," Kurt added.
Peter sighed. "Yeah, I think you're right."
The Danger Room rearranged itself into the ultimate obstacle course, complete with laser turrets, buzz saws and a series of spiked balls. Peter gulped loudly and retreated to the other end of the course.Magneto hovered over his latest target, a Russian mutant, in his late teens, covered in metal. The teen was pinned to a dilapidated tractor with increasing force. He couldn't break free or even retract the metal that coated his body.
"Do we have an understanding now, Mr. Rasputin?" Magneto asked in flawless Russian.
The Russian nodded with some difficulty and the magnetic force that bound him to the tractor quickly lessened and he fell to the ground. His metal body gave way to the flesh and bone of Piotr Rasputin just as Magneto landed before him.
"And my sister?" Piotr asked.
Still speaking in Russian, Magneto replied, "In exchange for your services to me, I will find a cure for what plagues your beloved Illyana. I'm a mutant of my word, Mr. Rasputin."
Piotr knelt before the Master of Magnetism and he took on his metallic form once again.
"Welcome to the Acolytes…Colossus." Magneto waved his wand and a pair of silver orbs descended from the sky.
Kevin Grey stealthily made his way through a New York train yard. He wasn't entirely sure just where he was, other than it wasn't Grand Central Station. He knew he was somewhere in New York City from the unobstructed view of the Empire State Building. It was almost night, with just a few swatches of sunlight left in the sky.
"I just hope I can find her now," Kevin said, his voice barely above a whisper. He walked for a few feet and found an old soda machine at the far end of the yard. "Hope it still works."
He took off at a small run, being careful not to trip over any of the metal rails strewn about. The last thing he needed right now was to accidentally send a train car flying fifty feet in the air. He got to the soda machine and placed a hand on it. Taking a cautious look around, he steadily focused his mind on the machine. After a few minutes, it spit out a Pepsi can, just before the machine blew apart in a small shower of sparks.
Kevin's eyes became large blue orbs and he took off at a fast run, hoping nobody noticed what he did.
Xavier felt a tremor resonate in his mind, which deduced was the result of his elusive signature from a few days ago making itself known again. He was currently in the co-pilot seat of the Blackbird, his mind too occupied with his meeting with Lorna Dane to fly the craft. The last remnants of their conversation lingered in his mind.
"Lorna, have you heard of a man named Eric Lensherr?" he had asked.
"Uh…no, I haven't," the green-haired girl had replied. "Should I have?"
Xavier directed the question to Mrs. Dane and she was just as dumbfounded as her daughter. A cursory probe with his telepathy revealed they hadn't heard of his former friend, under any alias he may have used. But still, he found it slightly unnerving that this girl possesses magnetic powers similar to Magneto. He had a sneaking suspicion that Magneto had more children then he let on, but without a DNA test, he couldn't be too sure if Lorna had some relation with the Master of Magnetism.
"So the trip was a complete failure, Professor?" Storm said abruptly, breaking the perpetual silence that engulfed the jet since they headed back to the mansion.
Xavier regarded her for a moment. "Not entirely, Storm. Now that we know what the girl can do, Hank and I can recalibrate Cerebro to bypass the magnetic interference Ms. Dane is unintentionally putting out. Still…she could prove to be a worthwhile addition to the team."
A sly smile came across Storm's face. "Professor, we can't force her to join us. If we did, wouldn't we be just as bad as Magneto?"
Xavier chuckled. "I see your point."
The X-Jet pivoted and started to drop below some Storm-influenced cloud cover.
Wolverine narrowed his eyes as he kept going over the recording of the training session he put the Parker kid through. The kid's stamina and reflexes continued to amaze him. He threw everything he had at him, and still, the kid managed to duck, weave, or otherwise evade every obstacle.
Kinda like Steve, Wolverine thought, remembering a friend of his from a previous life. He wasn't ready to accept this kid as being an X-Man just yet, but he made a deal with him: he'd join the X-Men after completing a certain number of training scenarios with the more experienced team.
A hydraulic hiss grabbed the sometimes-feral mutant's enhanced hearing. He turned and Professor Xavier and Storm entered the Danger Room's control center.
"Glad to see that you and Hank are holding down the fort, Logan," Xavier said. "Are we interrupting anything?"
Wolverine waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, not really. So, do we got a new X-Man or what?"
"Actually, that was what we wanted to talk to you about, Logan," Storm said. "Does Mr. Parker meet your standards to graduate to X-Men status?"
"The kid's got a lot of potential, but I'd rather see how he does with a couple a' team operations first," Wolverine explains. "How 'bout you?"
Xavier cleared his throat. "Our recruitment efforts ended on an abrupt note, Logan, but I believe we set the ground work for later."
"So, what was she doin' that caused you such interest to leave so early?" Wolverine asked.
"She has magnetic powers," Storm answered.
Wolverine let that sink in and scratched his chin with one of his claws. When he was done, he said, "Hope Magneto don't find out about this."
Scott spent the better part of fifteen minutes getting dressed for his date with Jean. His eyes were being guarded behind a pair of sunglasses that were more elegant than his normal, everyday pair. Good thing the Professor was able to switch out the lenses with a set of ruby quartz glass. Too bad he still saw everything in shades of red.
Peter was lying on Scott's bed, flipping through a book on Bayville history. "Did you know the town used to be known as Salem Center until 1982?" he asked off-handedly.
"Look, Pete, I can't really think about the town's history right now, all right?" Scott said, slightly irritably. "This night is a big deal for me and I hope that nothing goes wrong."
Peter looked up from his book. "Okay, I'm sorry, Scott. If anyone knows what you're going through, it's me, because I too dated a redhead that lived right nearby."
"Really?" Scott said, fidgeting with a tie. "How'd that go?"
"Well, it started off as a blind date and I kinda blew it further down the road, but we became friends," Peter explained.
Scott stopped trying to tie his tie to look at Peter. "How'd that happen?"
"I already had a girlfriend and when she died, I just sorta hid myself from the world," he said. "Good thing we're still friends, considering she lives right next door."
"So, she really is the girl next door." Scott went back to perfecting the tying of his neckwear. "Quick question: why didn't you guys go out sooner, if you don't mind my asking."
Peter let out a chuckle. "Well, it's kinda hard to be interested in a girl when you can't get a good look at her. Every time I tried, something would, someone, obstruct her face be it a locker door or a large crowd of people. Weird, huh?"
"You're talkin' to the wrong guy about weird stuff," Scott said. "Don't you have a field trip to Stark Enterprises tonight?"
"That's next week, dude," Peter answered. "Lookin' forward to it."
Finally satisfied with his numerous tying and retying, Scott turned around and faced Peter. "What do you think?" The glass-wearing mutant was clad in a brown suit with a black tie and a white dress shirt that was buttoned up to the neck.
Peter tried to stifle a laugh but his face turning red couldn't be helped. "I think I can have those reports on your desk in the morning, Mr. Summers," he said before exploding into a fit of laughter.
Scott's eyes narrowed behind his dress glasses. "Oh, ha, ha. Very funny," he said listlessly. "Any advice?"
Peter's laughter died out but was struggling to breath. "Okay, okay." He cleared his throat. "Lose the tie and unbutton the first few buttons on your shirt."
"Really?" Scott asked.
"Do you wanna be comfortable or do you wanna look like you're ready for a business meeting?" Peter replied.
"Point made, Mr. Parker," Scott said. He took the tie off and began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Now, spin around on one foot and say, 'There's no place like home'."
Scott fixed Peter with a glare that would have reduce him to charred atoms, if not for the protective glasses he wore. Peter flashed him a mischievous grin and the two shared a small laugh.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, and lack of action,True Beleivers. I've been kinda busy and these set-up chapters are a pain to write, but they gotta be done. I hope it's good because I spent most of my time rewriting than actually writing this thing. Hopefully by next chapter I can get into some serious Spidey action but don't hold your breath. Till next time.
