Westchester, New York. The school had seemed like a latter-day Tower of Babel at first. A telepathic crash course in the English Language had closed the communication gap in mere seconds. Now, Professor Charles Xavier sits, somberly studying his colorfully-costumed house guests. Whatever thoughts he might have at this point are his alone to know. The man known as Cyclops, however, was doing his best to keep a straight face.

Piotr. Kurt. Ororo. Sean. Shiro. So many people he had considered either friends, brothers, or at least allies, all in front of him once more. So many decisions before them, so much life not yet lived. In the case of Kurt, Piotr, and Sean, a death not yet experienced as well. Scott leaned against the railing of the staircase in the library of the X-Mansion, where the meeting of minds was happening. Logan was by his side, an unlit cigar toying about in his fingers.

As Logan had asked, Scott had filled him in on just about everything he knew. James Howlett, as he would eventually remember, and the fragments of life shared over a beer or three in the Decimation after the House of M. Future events had been played closer to the vest to try and keep the timeline as close as possible until changes could be made, but he still warned Logan about villains like Sabretooth and Magneto. It had left his friend with a lot to think about, and he'd run up a small tab on the airline both to Arizona and to New York in alcohol while mulling the informational dump over.

The man who would become Colossus grinned like a big child at his new fancy costume. Bare arms, a flared vest with a yellow center and red sides, gold belt, and the three primary colors adorning his legs made up one hell of a costume. It was nice seeing Piotr for once not weighed down with the deaths caused by his time with the X-Men, to see a complete lack of melancholy in his face and voice.

"In all my life," Piotr Rapsutin spoke with a thick Russian accent in otherwise perfect English, "I have never seen such clothing as this!"

Scott suppressed a grin. Amused over unstable molecules and spandex. He just had to wonder what it would be like if he'd bought Piotr an NES.

"The costume is beautiful," Ororo Munroe mused as she looked over her arms and down her body. Despite showing off a ton of flesh, Scott remembered seeing some images the Professor had of her as a Goddess back in Kenya, and was glad the Professor had talked her into wearing it, "The fit is also perfect! How did you-"

The professor cut her off gently, "The uniforms are made from unstable molecules. They will adjust, grow, and retract when necessary. A man named Reed Richards owed me a favor, and made me several sets." A rare genuine smile graced the Professor's face, "I'm more than certain you all will come across them eventually, should you choose to stay with the team. But first-"

Shiro Yamada was nowhere near as nice, pointing an accusatory finger at the man in the wheelchair, "Right now, you will tell us why you dragged us all here from our homes, Professor. I, for one, am swiftly losing my patience!" His bright red and white costume made it blatant that he came from the land of Japan, and the flame deco along his boots, gloves, and face mask made it obvious as to his powers.

"Quitting already, Shiro?" Scott spoke up before the Professor could try to calm the man known as Sunfire down, "I'll tell you why you're here. The X-Men have vanished off the face of this Earth." Scott paused to let that sink in.

Piotr blinked twice as he slowly raised his hand, "Excuse me, friend Cyclops. Who are the X-Men?"

Scott laughed, "That… is a great question." He gestured to everyone as he began walking deeper into the mansion, "Follow me. I'll explain."

As they walked through the main corridor, Cyclops turned around to walk backwards to speak to the group, "The Professor recruited myself and four others back in 1983. I was literally a scared kid, a runaway when he found me. Others were more fortunate, but all of us were mutants." Scott reached into an alcove by instinct and pushed down on a bust of Professor Xavier (ok, it was a bust of Patrick Stewart, a prank gift from Bobby that the Professor hadn't caught on to yet), which triggered the secret entrance to the basement and sub-levels.

"We fought many villains, some of them would become allies, other fiercer enemies. All the while, the public would hate and fear us just for being different." Scott continued as he gestured everyone into the newly-revealed room, "Some new members joined temporarily, and some of us actually died." Scott glared at the Professor, "Temporarily."

"That was for a good reason and you know that." Charles frowned, feeling attacked.

It doesn't explain the other thirty damned times you faked your death, Professor. Scott was incredibly thankful for the fact that his mind was still shielded from Xavier at this point.

"Still," Scott continued, moving the group towards the Cerebro chamber, "We received an alert that a new mutant had been discovered on the island of Krakoa in the South Pacific. The Professor couldn't narrow it down any further, but the signal was so strong that we simply had to investigate."

Scott walked up to the Cerebro computer itself once they entered the room. It had been ages since the computer was in use, having been replaced by a Shi'ar mental interface that only telepaths could actually use. While the old one still existed somewhere in the basement of the mansion, it wasn't something he'd used in a decade or two. A few awkward seconds of clicking at the antiquated top-of-the-line machine had bought up a full-color image of the globe. It slowly zoomed over to the island of Krakoa itself.

"This is our target." Scott spoke up once more, pointing at the screen, "I took the full team, comprised of myself, Marvel Girl, Iceman, Angel, Beast, Havok, and Polaris," As he spoke their names, images of each came up onscreen, "After we landed, I must admit, my memory is a complete blank. However, something certainly attacked us, leaving me without powers and barely conscious. We're going back to rescue them. Any questions?"

Not a one raised their hand.

Scott smiled, feeling pride well up in his chest. They barely knew him, and they already wanted to help. Admittedly, Scott was banking on what had already happened in his past to predict the future, but hedging his bets never hurt.

"Thank you."

Author's Notes:

Well, hell. At the very least, I don't mind pumping out a chapter a day. I don't expect to be able to keep this up, though, but at least I have some ideas for now. While I do have almost literally nothing planned ahead, I do at least have an idea for Thunderbird should he survive. Well. When he survives. Sorry to spoil that one.

I'd also like to think that this solidifies my thoughts on the Sliding Timeline of Marvel. While I love it, it just does not work to make things vague as hell for a fanfic involving time travel. So, to lay it out: The X-Men were founded roughly in 1983, and their Silver Age adventures happened through 1989 (this does mean that President Regan was actually the leader of the Secret Empire, I suppose, which is downright hilarious). Of course, Krakoa happens in 1989 itself. Things are stretched up and over to 2016, when Scott dies in the hilariously weird Death of X. I'll try to keep things working within the normal timeline I've just established, but things will have to be altered as well. I suppose we could just say that Scott going back in time was a nail in the timeline itself, anchoring everything down in weird ways.

As for Scott vs Storm... well... while I feel the end results make perfect sense for context, and Storm is a complete badass, it was a weird way to write Scott out of the X-Men. While I may not scrub things away entirely, I'm not sure if Scott would still hook up with Madelyn, knowing that she's Sinsiter's handiwork. Or with Phoenix, for that matter.