The meeting had been going for nearly ten minutes before the third teacher assigned to guard the room finally arrived. As Nightwing approached, Eraserhead groaned in annoyance, but Scott didn't mind much at all. After all, the smiling acrobat was well known for his more lax attitude. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late! Personal matter."

The room they were waiting outside of already had some of the best security in the world. Designed by the leader of the Fantastic Four, for the specific purpose of allowing heroes to meet without anyone overhearing what was discussed. If Scott remembered correctly, the room's interior was in another dimension. When Reed did something, he always overdid it, Scott thought. But they still had to stand guard, as teachers protecting their headmasters.

"Personal matter?" Eraserhead said, without looking over at the Quirkless hero. "What was her name?" Then after a second, he added, "Or his? Theirs? I don't keep up on all the people you date." Scott couldn't help letting out a sigh. Were they really doing this again? Why did they have to antagonize each other like this?

On their own, Scott felt like he got along well with Eraserhead and Nightwing fairly well. They matched strongly, as people and heroes. But putting them all together was a recipe for disaster.

If Nightwing took any offense to Eraserhead's question, he didn't show it. Grinning in a way that showed off his teeth, Scott was pretty sure he was hiding something. "Nope, nothing date-related." Then he approached Scott and elbowed him lightly before asking, "Though now that you bring it up, I should be taking notes from Cyclops here. How goes the juggling act?"

Scott scowled. "I'd prefer it if you didn't call it that, Nightwing. It's called 'polyamory', and it's actually-"

Before Scott could continue, Nightwing interrupted, holding his hands palms up. "Whoa, no need to give me the big Poly Talk, Scott. Didn't mean to step on your toes, metaphorically speaking." It didn't completely mollify Scott, but he knew that Nightwing meant it. Dick...was a nice guy. "How are Jean and Emma doing, by the way?"

It was almost enough to make Scott smile. "Well." The simple word probably didn't mean much to most people, but from Scott Summers, it spoke volumes.

"Good for you." Eraserhead sounded bored and disinterested, but Scott knew him well enough to know he (probably) meant it. "Things have been stable between Hizashi and I."

Scott had to prepare himself for what would inevitably come next. Nightwing would say something about Present Mic, probably how much he wished the louder teacher was there instead of Eraserhead, and they'd start really sniping then.

"..."

But...that didn't happen. Instead, Nightwing looked pensive. "Scott, is it okay if I ask you for some advice?"

That definitely caught Scott's attention. Nightwing rarely sounded that...melancholy? Which was odd, considering the man's father. "Of course. And please, we're on the clock, call me Cyclops." He did his best to make the request politely. Scott wasn't...great at politeness, people told him he frequently came off as cold and emotionless, a stick in the mud.

"You've got experience with kids from the future, right?" From the way he was asking it, Nightwing wasn't sure if the question was inappropriate.

Scott didn't mind answering it, however. "Yes. Rachel's still in this time period, and attending the school. Nathan's not really from the future though, he was just raised there." It was a very small summary of the situation, leaving out things like his daughter being experimented on by an anti-mutant madman or his son being over a decade older than Scott was.

"..."

A little waiting didn't get anything from Nightwing, so Scott spoke up about what he thought this could be about. "I heard there was a newly sighted hero team that no one knows anything about. Some people think they're from a possible future. Is one of them...yours?" It was hard not to sound awkward, asking the question. Just because Scott had managed to adjust to the idea of future kids didn't mean everyone would.

Rubbing the back of his head, Nightwing didn't look at either of the other teachers. "No, there's no doubt she's mine. I'd know a fellow Grayson anywhere." Scott was confused. Why the need for advice then? Did he want to know how to properly connect with her? Help understanding future slang? Get her counseling for traumatic future events? "The issue is that she's clearly only half human." Why would that be... "Her other half is obviously Tamaranian."

Oh. The only Tamaranian on the planet was...one of Nightwing's students. "Shit."

Eraserhead was amused, though. "Have you told Oracle?"

"Ha!" Nightwing guffawed, though he didn't sound particularly humored. "Please, you know Babs. She already knows."

"I suppose I'll be attending your funeral sooner than I thought."

Only a door away from that awkward conversation, yet also nowhere even close to it in time or space, the meeting was well underway.

"...not sure, but if we do have a traitor at UA, it's possible that the Legion's mole may have made contact with them," Nezu finished, his voice as cheerful as it always was, despite the dour subject matter.

Whether he was truly that chipper, Charles Xavier didn't know. Likely because Nezu wasn't even a primate, let alone a human or mutant, Charles had never been able to read his mind very well, and so rarely tried. When he pushed, he was mostly only able to get a sense of a vast, impossibly complex labyrinth of thoughts. A telepath could get lost inside forever, if they weren't careful. An accident of biology, or a purpose-built trap?

The third person in the room, a woman so iconic that few existed that could not recognize her immediately, regardless of their country of origin, studied the documents Nezu provided about Tara Markov's activities at UA High School and of the suspicions they had regarding their own traitor. "I am still against this plan. I would much rather confront my student. We can try to help her, and if she refuses, we can indict her for her crimes."

Steepling his fingers, Charles leaned forward onto the table, doing his best not to strain his spine from the angle he sat in his advanced wheelchair. "Your objection has already been noted, Diana. But as we've told you, as Bruce has told you, managing an infiltrator has more long-term benefits than merely removing her. After all, the next spy might go unnoticed." He tried not to sound condescending, though he knew quite well people tended to be offended by how he spoke regardless.

Meeting his gaze with unwavering eyes, Diana of Themiskyra didn't falter. "Clark agrees with me, in case you've forgotten. If they send more spies, so be it. I do not care for the schemes you and Nezu tend to concoct, Charles." He wished he knew exactly what she was thinking. But if Nezu was hard to read, Diana was impossible. Was it protection from her gods? Or was she truly created from clay, with a mind as unyielding as mineral?

It was hard not to be offended by her words. But Charles knew she had a point. He did...have a tendency to go to extremes, on occasion. Faking his death. Hiding important events. Altering the minds of allies...tools to use only in the most dire circumstances, of course. But once known of, it was impossible to truly regain the lost trust. "Have you considered having me scan your school, to see if I can detect the mole there?"

Smiling amiably, Nezu refused. "I'd rather you didn't, Charles. It's possible the culprit is shielded from telepathic screening, and we wouldn't want to let them know we're aware of their existence." He paused. "If they even exist. We're still unsure. Much of the data would be explained by a traitor within UA, but it's not the only answer. The police may be the ones leaking information. Perhaps a personal friend of a teacher or student is a telepath, pulling the knowledge from their head. Or it could just be that the League of Villains has someone with a Precognitive Quirk, or some form of time travel."

Even though Charles didn't really agree with that reasoning, he didn't push. They were allied, but each school was run by a different segment of the international hero community. They were limited. If it wasn't for Bruce Wayne's formidable influence, Diana would have done something about Tara long ago.

"That said, we are working on a proper response," Nezu added, cheerfully. "Quite soon, we will know much more about what the League has been up to!"

Charles merely nodded, it was a sound strategy. Diana looked less impressed. "You're sending in a double-agent of your own?" Her tone was as unreadable as her mind.

Nezu tilted his furry head. "Why, yes. The details are still being finalized, but within the next few months we should have someone in place to help us finally deal with these dreadful villains." Looking at Diana, he asked her, "I've heard you've been having issues yourself. What is HIVE?"

The term was completely unfamiliar to Charles. "An underground criminal education system. A villain equivalent to a hero high school." Diana spoke of this organization as if it was nothing worth worrying about.

"The Hellfire Club has funded something of that sort, once," Charles brought up. "I hope you're taking it seriously. If a group like that goes unchecked..."

It was a hero's worst nightmare.

Most villains were underfunded, run-of-the-mill criminals, only with abilities that made them more difficult to deal with. There was the hope that, over time, more of each generation would choose heroism over villainy.

But there was still an undercurrent of the unsatisfied, the unloved, the uncontrollable. Even Charles' own son...

A villain high school could create a resurgence of villains, stronger and more coordinated than normal. If this 'HIVE' was successful, how long before they or another like them appeared on the East Coast? In Japan?

From there, they discussed more minor matters, but the issue of what to do about this new unknown threat buzzed in Charles' head, refusing to leave him alone.

If Diana's plan to root them out and burn them down, root and branch alike, failed...perhaps Charles could send a few faithful students to infiltrate this place.

No need to tell Diana, or Nezu. Charles could take care of this on his own.

After all, he knew he could handle it himself.