Hey guys! Im alive!
Thank you so much for the support and the feedback! It really means a lot to me, and helps me keep up the hype and motivation with writing.
Except for the guy who said my writing was "like reading the rant of a 14 year old autistic child". Fuck you dude, you could have just stopped reading if you didn't like it.
BTW, my version of professor Xavier looks and sounds like a younger Patrick Stewart, think Captain Picard age, so a bit younger looking than his movie portrayal. The ages of my X-men are much closer to their X-men evolution portrayal, but I imagine them greatly resembling their live action counterparts, just with slight differences in age (and height, in Logan's case). I know cyclops is supposed to be a "founding member" of the X men, but he isn't in this version. He'll still eventually take on a leader role, so don't worry, I just wanted to make a lot of the X-men be similar in age to Clark, for obvious reasons. Superheroes need friends too! (PS: This means LoganxJean will NOT be happening, so sorry if you like that pairing, I just don't care for it at all. I don't want to focus too much on romance right now, so outside of crushes, I won't heavily feature romance, for now at least. This might change later, but for now, it won't.)
Lexi is a bit hard on teenagers, this does not reflect my actual opinion on teens, just her frustration manifesting.
I had ALOT of trouble with this one, but I hope it came out ok in the end.
Without further ado, Here we go! Up up and awaaaay!
Alexandria Ruth Kent, better known as Lexi, was bored to tears. She was only 7 years old, kicking her legs back and forth, not able to reach the ground on the chair meant for a high schooler. She was in an AP bio class, for the purposes of free college credits. She had gotten a hold of a GED study manual, and was fairly certain she could pass it whenever she wanted, but she knew money was a limiting factor for her folks, and so she was determined to get as much credit for free as she possibly could.
A more experienced person probably could have guessed that if a child was genius enough to be crushing AP classes at seven years old, any college would be thrilled to have her attend for free. Unfortunately, Lexi didn't do a lot of socializing, and had noticed a trend in her parents that they tended to avoid drawing attention to themselves. She didn't yet know exactly why, but she respected it.
Perhaps if she had been a teenager full of rebellion and discontent similar to the idiots— ehem, students around her, she might have resented her parents, as some of them did, but as for her? She liked home. She loved her family.
Sure it was boring at times, but Clark was always able to find the best books that they didn't offer at the library, (she still didn't know where he got them from, she had never seen them being sold around town) and the advanced reading helped cure her boredom.
Honestly, she probably knew in the back of her head that it was possible to find some way to go to college, but she didn't see the point right now. The AP classes had an amount of busy work she sometimes considered pointlessly repetitive, but as long as she had Clark's books and the farm, she was fine. She was FINE! Ehem. She was fine. She wasn't some dumb parent hating teenager like the fools— students around her. She wasn't. It wasn't her parents fault that they didn't have money. She was smart enough to see that. She wasn't dumb. Not at all.
Sure, there was a flash of intense jealousy when she found out Tony Stark had built his first engine at 11 and graduated MIT at 17. FUC— she shouldn't swear. It made people laugh at her when she swore like the others in her class. They got to swear but she didn't. It was FINE.
But anyway. 17? She could totally beat that! Hypothetically of course. 17 was practically an adult! She could graduate high school right now if she wanted, from a 12 year institution, as a 7 year old.
17! Huh! Like that was impressive! If her family had money like his did, she certainly would beat that with her eyes closed! She'd graduate MIT at 10! Maybe 12 if it was harder than she expected, but 12 at max! Totally. For sure! If they just had MONEY— stop.
The final bell rang, and she packed her things into a case of rolling luggage she had instead of a backpack, because her books were too heavy for her.
It wasn't Ma and Pa's fault. The farm was great and the food was great and her family was awesome. AWESOME. She wasn't some angsty, giant sized, pimple faced, loser who hated their parents and hometown for no reason. She wasn't!
Hah. Sure. And maybe if she wanted it hard enough, pigs would sprout wings and fly.
Once she reached the bus and sat down, she sighed explosively. She wanted more. She was ungrateful. She shouldn't want more. No one had told her that she shouldn't want more, but it was obvious! Everyone else in her family was content to live lazy days in Smallville! They were happy! She should be too. It wasn't fair for her to want more than they could provide. They couldn't provide it, and THAT. WASN'T. THEIR. FAULT. It wasn't. This was fair. Life wasn't fair for a lot of people. A lot of people didn't have food to eat. They didn't have houses to live in. It was bad for her to want more, she was sure of it. She didn't dare bring how she felt up to her folks, because they obviously couldn't do anything about it. It would just hurt their feelings, and that would be even worse.
Miserable, Lexi sniffed, wiped her eyes and looked for a distraction. Sometimes she wished she could just -stop thinking and just mentally relax like other people could.
Her eyes landed on the digital watch Clark had given her for her last birthday. He called it a 'signal' watch, which she assumed was some kind of brand, and it always fascinated her in a way that was difficult to explain. There were a lot of things like that about Clark. Weird. Unexplained. Interesting. She could think herself in circles when it came to Clark, and it always amused her to think of increasingly outlandish explanations for his weirdness. Her current two favorites were time traveler from the future, and undercover secret agent. While they probably weren't true, they were fun to think about, and both explained the signal watch.
She hadn't told anyone about this, but sometimes she would get… flashes of information.
She would touch a piece of technology, like an engine or a phone or something, and for an instant she could see it's inner workings, like a 3d blueprint made of green light.
It used to happen pretty rarely, but ever since she started wearing the signal watch the flashes happened much more often, especially around midday when she was outside.
With a bit of research at the library, she could usually find out the functions of all the parts that she saw, but no matter how many times she tried to 'scan' the watch, what she 'saw' was completely incomprehensible. It was fascinating! How had Clark gotten tech like that? She didn't know, but in order to ask him about it, she would have to reveal her weirdness, which she obviously didn't want to do.
As the bus drove on to her house, stopping every so often to drop a kid or two off at their stop, Lexi once again tried to 'scan' the signal watch.
Once again, the flash of information was too quick and vague for her to make out the full complexity of it, and she sighed in frustration.
She slumped against the window and held the watch face to the glass. Clark had said it was 'solar powered' even though there was no visible solar panel like on a calculator, but she always got a better response when the watch was in direct sunlight, so she believed him.
Trying once again, she got the same response, and began to feel a headache. Lexi was used to these at this point.
This was the time she usually stopped and waited for the headache to go away, but this time she couldn't find it in herself to care. Again and again she scanned it, the pain increasing, but at the same time there was a feeling like she was almost there, like a word was on the tip of her tongue.
She kept pushing herself, beyond what was probably safe, and suddenly, the watch jolted her with what felt like electricity, and her senses bloomed. She could 'see' the inner workings of the watch, the bus, and even the wheels on her luggage, as simple as they may be.
Oh no! This was bad. This was really bad! It wasn't turning off! This hadn't happened before! It was only ever in vague flashes, not constant like this! She looked at her reflection in the window and saw that her eyes were glowing green! Closing her eyes so no one would see, the scan of the watch and the bus were much more vivid in her mind. Would her headache get worse? Would it get so bad her head would explode?! What the heck was going on?!
As the bus drove on however, the headache faded and disappeared. She was grateful for this, but a quick check showed that her eyes were still glowing, and she smashed them shut again. When she reached her stop, she frantically got off the bus with squinted eyes, almost tripping on the way off.
Once the bus drove away, and she was alone, she pushed her luggage away from her, and unbuckled the watch from her wrist, frantically throwing it onto the ground. With nothing to 'scan', the weird power went dormant. She could still feel it in the back of her head, in a way that she couldn't before, but it was sleeping for now. Holding her hands up close to her eyes, she could see there was no more green glow.
There was no one around to laugh or scold, so she cut loose in way she rarely could, her seven year old voice cheeping out, "What in the FUCK was that about?"
Suddenly, someone slid out from under the truck, and to her intense dismay, it was Pa.
He valiantly held back his laughter, and wiped the engine grease from his hands. "Alexandria Ruth Kent! That is not the language we use in this house!"
Shoot! He pulled out the full name. He was serious! Initiate distraction! She ran up to him and threw herself into his arms.
Startled, he hugged her back, and his calming voice sounded out. "Lexi? What's wrong?"
Tired of hiding her weirdness, she looked up into his eyes and pulled on her power, seeing the engine of the nearby truck in her mind's eye. Lime green light glowed from her eyes, and they sparked with bolts of green electricity. Pa's flew open wide in shock, and Lexi responded to his question, "I don't know Pa! Help me!"
POV: Scott Summers
Scott Summers, AKA cyclops, leapt over a moving obstacle in the danger room, and pressed his thumb into the side of his index finger, activating one of the thumb triggers that opened his visor. A beam of pure concussive force blasted free from the containment visor, destroying a set of blunted disks that were shot towards him by one of the shoulder mounted turrets on the enemy drone.
The team was currently in a training session, and it was not going well. Kurt was in the 'leader' position, and while he was aware it was bad grace on his part, Scott didn't like that. At all.
Kurt had just called a plan 9, which required a flanking maneuver from Scott, which had sent him right into the obstacle he was dealing with now, which represented a blaster type enemy. The danger room's settings were designed to mimic Magneto's squad formations from past confrontations, and each of the numbered plans represented a complementary formation that was designed to counter it. While blaster vs blaster was something Scott could easily deal with, being a top notch blaster himself, it wasn't optimal. And that severely irritated Scott. Same type matchups tended to drag on, ending in stalemate.
Getting stuck in a stalemate was an invitation for 1v1 duel interference, which was common sense in any battle you wanted to win. In a real battle, Your opponent wouldn't respect the 1v1, so you shouldn't either.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, another drone that was currently holding off Rogue, made a quick gesture in his direction, and the danger room responded, a segmented iron tentacle rising up from the floor and whipping towards him, simulating a field control type enemy. The tentacle whipped towards Scott, and attempted to strangle him, which would take him out of the game, AKA 'kill' him. He caught the tentacle with both hands, which prevented him from using his thumb triggers. The blaster type he was already dealing with never stopped it's assault, which was a fucking problem.
Quickly, Scott pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pressing a button on a thin retainer-like gadget, which activated his visor hands free. This was a last resort measure, as he couldn't talk and tongue fire at the same time, but it proved its usefulness as the red beam of concussive death blasted forth from his eyes, pulverizing the tentacle and destroying the disks with a sweeping motion. The blaster drone itself dodged out of the way, which made sense, as advanced evasion was blaster training 101.
Scott continued to engage, again with his thumb trigger, when he was again interrupted by a tentacle from Rogue's field control enemy. "Rogue! What's the holdup?!" He shouted.
Irritated, she shot back, "Well, sor-ry, field control ain't exactly my bread and butter!"
Scott cursed at her statement, it was true! The main purpose of this exercise was to set people up with a complementary enemy, in order to pull off a quick and decisive squad victory. Rogue should have been sent after a brute enemy, allowing her to take out the brute with a touch and become one herself for the rest of the conflict! Instead she was sent after a field control type?! Sure, Rogue's ability to 'replace' an enemy combatant with herself was valuable no matter whose powers she absorbed, but she had to touch them first! And trying to get in close to a field control type was pretty much an exercise in futility! No wonder her drone had so much freedom to screw with him, all it had to do to deal with Rogue was avoid getting touched by what was currently a non-enhanced human! Getting Rogue a brute power set ASAP was basic strategy. She started out weak, but quickly became a fucking problem for the enemy the more powers she took. It was that initial acquisition that was always the most difficult and risky.
"Kurt!" Scott shouted, tired of being silent.
Kurt responded, "W-What?" He sounded stressed out of his mind, which made Scott a bit guilty, but not nearly guilty enough not to yell at him.
"Really Kurt?! Rogue?! On field control at the start?!"
"Oh no!" Kurt shouted, realizing his mistake. "Uh! Rogue and Cyclops! Switch up!"
Both immediately complied, as field controllers were a bit easier for Scott to deal with, as they tended to stay in one place, and Rogue had been so busy dealing with her drone that she hadn't realized Scott was up against a blaster.
By the time it registered in Scotts mind that a non enhanced Rogue vs a blaster was almost just as bad as her against a field controller, she had already been pelted with disks and declared 'dead' by the danger room, her outfit going from green to black. Damnit! Rogue was potentially their heaviest hitter, and she had been neutralized without being able to do anything!
Rubbing her ribs, she withdrew angrily, and now Scott had to deal with both drones. Frantically dodging the tentacles while also dealing with projectiles was a bit too much for Scott, and once his feet were bound, he didn't last long against the two directions of attack. Bruised, beaten, and with his suit also turning black to indicate his 'death', Scott withdrew as well. With no one to hold back Rogue and Scott's drones, Jean, Kitty, Kurt, and Bobby were quickly overwhelmed.
Once they were all 'dead', and the danger room deactivated, they all turned towards Kurt with various looks of frustration on their faces.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry! I got formation 9 mixed up vith 7! I do the same thing in both of them so I get them confused!"
There were various sighs of frustration, and Kitty patted Kurt on the back. "That's OK Kurt, it wasn't nearly as bad as last training session when Bobby was the leader! At least you lasted more than 30 seconds."
"Hey!" Bobby protested.
"Maybe not, but I still failed. I got all of us killed." He said sadly. "I don't understand why we can't just have Scott keep being the leader. He's got the highest strategic scores on the simulator, and he knows all the plans by heart!"
Scott gritted his teeth, because emotionally, he agreed with Kurt, but logically, he understood what the Professor was thinking. "You know why." Scott answered, repeating the professor's words, "If I'm not there because I'm captured or dead or something, the team can't just fall apart. We won't be able to squeak by just memorizing our own parts in the plans anymore. We all have to be aware of the bigger picture. The Professor says if we want to become proper X-men—"
Bobby let out two rapid coughs that sounded suspiciously like 'kiss ass', and Rogue brought a hand to her mouth to hide her laughter.
Incensed, Scott was about to start yelling, and damn the consequences, when Jean beat him to it. "And your way is so much better? Mister 30 seconds?" She stared coldly at Bobby, then turned back to him and gave an encouraging smile, which made Scott's stomach do a happy little flip. Bobby spluttered in anger. For having Ice themed powers, he could really be a hothead sometimes.
Regaining his composure, Scott decided to defuse the situation. "Ok look. We have all been working hard, so maybe we ought to end early for today. Hit the showers everyone and let's enjoy the off time. And again, make sure to study the basic squad formations before next training session, all of you."
Tension forgotten, there were a series of relieved sighs and a few cheers, and the group split up to go to the respective locker rooms.
Feeling a bit too nervous to truly take a long relaxing shower, Scott was out of the men's locker room back in civvies about 15 minutes later. Walking across the hall, he sat on the bench outside the Women's locker room, and concentrated. He obviously wasn't a telepath, but he had figured out how to more or less 'think loudly' so it was easier for Jean to pick up on it.
"Hey Jean, you got a second?" he projected.
Suddenly, he heard her voice in his head, accompanied by feelings of affection, humor, and a bit of exasperation. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
Scott got a vague impression of warm flowing water and flushed red as he realized that Jean was likely still in the shower which meant she was— Aaaaand he clamped down on that train of thought as he had a literal mind reader with a psychic connection to his brain at the moment!
Judging by the flash of amusement he felt across the connection, she had picked up on it. Wonderful. Great. Fantastic.
Eager to change the subject, he asked his original question. "Do you know if the Professor is busy? I was hoping to talk to him."
After a few seconds, she responded, "It feels like he's using Cerebro right now, just go on in."
Balking at the thought of going into the mansion's most secure room without permission, he responded, "I can't go in there while he's using it! I'll just wait till he's done."
"Sure you can! I do it all the time." Jean responded.
"Yeah, that's because you're his favorite." Scott shot back.
"Oh please. You know he doesn't play favorites. The only reason I have individual counseling with him is because our powers are similar and he helps me control them. You won't disrupt anything by going in, I promise."
"Come with me?" Scott asked hesitantly. "Unless you're busy, which I totally get!"
Abruptly, the connection cut off. Just as Scott was wondering if that was a no or not, the Women's locker room door opened, and Jean walked out, a smile on her face. "Sure." She said audibly.
Scott smiled back in response, and they made their way down towards Cerebro, making small talk along the way.
When they finally arrived, Jean pushed a button on the intercom, and the door to arguably the most important room in the X mansion opened. When not in use, Cerebro was a large spherical chamber with a cantilevered walkway that seemed to float unsupported, leading to the center of the metal tiled room. At the end of the walkway there was a desk with a high tech looking helmet hooked up to it, which Professor Xavier was currently wearing.
When the professor was actually using Cerebro, the walls seemed to disappear, and what the Professor was sensing was displayed visually around them in a way that made sense to a telepath, but not very much to anyone else. Scott stumbled as the images lurched and zoomed across what appeared to be different parts of the planet, luminous red dots marking different mutants throughout the world.
The professor spoke, seemingly staring vaguely off into the distance as he perceived more using his mind than he ever could with his eyes. "Hello, Jean, Scott. What do you need? How goes the training?"
Scott sighed in frustration. "Not well. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. No one is memorizing the formations! I thought Bobby failed last time just because he didn't care, but Kurt got them mixed up and our squad got wiped! They clearly need to study, but they won't!"
The Professor nodded his head in understanding. "I understand you are frustrated Scott, you have every right to be. But sometimes you must let the team experience failure before they are willing to change. Was this training session an improvement from the last?"
Scott thought about it. "Yeah, I guess it was."
Professor Xavier nodded, still scanning with Cerebro. "The point of this training isn't to immediately achieve perfection, it's to increase the team's cohesion and awareness of each other, and a loss will do that more effectively than a win in some cases. A triumph can only be truly savored if it is worked for. For example—" Suddenly, the professor cut off.
After a few moments of silence, Scott spoke up. "Professor?"
The images stabilized on a picture of North America, then zoomed in to the heart of rural Kansas. "I've found her. The Infant from the Midwest." The image stabilized to a scene of a little auburn haired seven year old sobbing into the chest of a brown haired middle aged man, who appeared to be comforting her.
Scott blinked in confusion. "The mutant farm? The one from 7 years ago?" Scott didn't feel like that looked very much like a mutant farm, more like, well, a farm farm, but looks could be deceiving, and psychic perception could be fooled.
The Professor responded. "Perhaps. It doesn't look particularly hostile. But… there is an energy that lingers around them. One that matches a powerful mind I've been picking up on lately, that has gotten harder and harder to pinpoint as of late."
Scott's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "A psychic powerful enough to hide from you?! Even while you're using Cerebro?!"
The professor nodded. "Whenever I've sensed them in the past, there isn't even a mutant signature, just the vague presence of a powerful mind. I'm quite certain only a Mutant could hide from me in this way, which means whoever they are, they are powerful enough to even hide their very presence from me. It's possible this image we are seeing isn't what is actually going on, but a plant from the enemy psychic. Let me just…" The professor concentrated, and a series of memories starring the little girl flashed across their surroundings. Eventually they settled on one of the girl sitting on a desk, bored in class. "Aha." The professor breathed out, triumphant, "It appears we have caught a crack in the illusion. Notice anything strange?"
It took Scott a few seconds, and when he finally spotted it, Jean had beaten him to it, and was already speaking. "Wait a second! What's a little kid like her doing in AP bio?" She questioned.
The Professor nodded. "Exactly. The creator of this false memory most likely focused on picturing her 'at school' but referenced a classroom from their own experience, instead of an age appropriate setting for the girl. We've caught them in a mistake."
Powering down Cerebro and removing the helmet, the professor turned around his powered wheelchair using the control stick on the armrest, and began speeding along the walkway towards the door. Jean and Scott hurried along behind him.
Scott spoke up with a mixture of fear and excitement, "We're heading out? We're taking on the Mutant farm?"
"The X men are, you two are not." Xavier replied. Scott was incensed.
"What!? Look, I get that Kurt, Kitty, and Bobby are a bit underage, but Jean, Rogue and I are all over 18! If 18 is old enough to vote, or go to war, then it should be old enough to be a member of the X-men! Jean and I have been here the longest, and even though rogue is a recent member, she already pulls her own weight in the sims! We're ready!"
"Do not be so quick to seek out matters of life and death." Xavier responded, "If battle was fun and games then I would not be in this wheelchair." He stared at Scott, who deflated a bit, than continued speaking, "furthermore, a raid on a hostile compound with a psychic potentially more powerful than I, is not what I would call ideal for a first mission."
Scott, while slightly chastened, was still determined, "If the psychic is that powerful then you might need help! We have to start sometime, and Logan, Mr McCoy, and Storm are all here in town at the same time! That's pretty rare right?"
"Not nearly as rare as you are implying." Xavier responded, but Scott could tell he was thinking it over. The professor continued, attempting to distract, "And you don't have to call Hank 'Mr McCoy', he isn't your chemistry teacher anymore."
Scott rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry, old habits die hard. But if you really want me to get used to calling him… Hank… then we should work together more as peers."
Scott and the professor had a brief stare down, which was finally broken by Jean.
"What if we come along as a kind of… reserve, we stay on the blackbird and observe unless the X-men really need help? That way you can ensure we stay relatively safe, but we still get some experience."
At this, the professor paused, as if trying to find a fault in Jean's argument. He must have failed, because he let out a gusty sigh. "Very well. But you will stay on the blackbird and observe unless explicitly called, and if you are given an order you must follow it immediately and exactly. Are we clear?"
Scott tried to nod solemnly, but couldn't keep a grin from making its way onto his face. "Crystal! Jean and I'll go get Rogue and meet you guys in the hangar!"
The professor sighed, but drove off to make preparations. "Wheels up in thirty minutes. If you are late, we will leave without you."
Exactly 29 minutes and thirty seconds later, Jean, Scott, and Rogue rushed through the hangar, still adjusting their battle uniforms, and though Scott wasn't far enough to hear it, he knew the professor's body language well enough to know he sighed in disappointment. Scott scowled behind his visor. Why couldn't Professor Xavier realize that they were ready?!
Just in time, they made it to the on-ramp to the X jet, also known as "the blackbird."
It was designed by Forge, a mutant known for his technopathic abilities, and resembled a scaled up version of the SR 71 blackbird. Its interior was large enough for the whole team, with a bottom extending on-ramp and vertical takeoff abilities. It had a top speed of Mach 5+ and a ceiling of over 97,000 feet. Because of this speed, it had no conventional weapons, but with mutants aboard, it didn't need any. The only thing approaching a gun was a force cannon created to channel the powers of Alex Summers, Scott's late uncle. Forge had since re-fitted it for Scott's optic blasts, but they had only used it on training runs. Scott hoped the gun would finally see some real combat.
As they entered into the main passenger area, a rather short but very muscular man in jeans and a biker jacket spoke up from over in the cockpit area, where he'd been talking with Storm. "Well well well… eighteen and already off to war like a bunch a' doughboys, I just hope you three don't get cooked."
"Logan!" Cried Rogue with excitement, rushing over to give him a hug, "You're back!"
He smiled, unintentionally showing off a set of pronounced canines, and chuckled, "Heya kid. You've been here what, six months? An' they already got ya doin' missions?"
Rogue stepped back, irritated. "Like ya' said, I'm 18! I'm old enough to fight! All three of us are!"
Scott couldn't help nodding in agreement, and the movement drew Logan's eye. "Alright Shades, I guess we'll see what you an' Red got. Just stay behind me an' I'll get the three of you through the fire an' on your way to your second mission."
The professor spoke up with a stern voice, "There will certainly be no fire, not in the blackbird at least! Which is where they will be staying. We aren't going to war Logan, it's a simple investigation mission, with only the potential to evolve into an extraction."
Logan rolled his eyes. "Whatever ya' say Chuck. Missions always go as planned, with nothin' ever gettin' hairy. It'll all be a cakewalk." He smoothly stalked over to his seat and sat down. "Get strapped in Greenies, we got a farm to bust."
Scott nodded, smiling as he strapped himself in. Finally! This was it! His first real mission! He looked over to Jean, who smiled nervously, and then to Rogue, who gave a thumbs up and a wicked grin. He nodded again. This was it. This mission might turn out to be dangerous, but with an atmosphere like this, it was hard to believe there was anything they couldn't do, or anyone they couldn't beat!
P.O.V. Clark Kent
The Crystal walls around me shined warmly as I meditated, my legs in a pretzel pose with my hands resting on my knees as I hovered in the air. The room I was currently in was filtering nearly all the sunlight absorbed by the fortress and concentrating it into this relatively small spherical chamber. It still wasn't quite the same quality of sunlight I absorbed by being in space above the atmosphere, but it was a significant increase from the norm, and sometimes quantity was a quality all on its own. Doing my training in this chamber was a concession I made with Father, but I'm getting a bit ahead of myself.
After the whole 'mind control' fiasco from three years ago, it had been extremely hard to convince my folks to allow me to return to the fortress.
*three years ago, immediately after the events of chapter 3*
Though I was tempted to explore the inside of the fortress of solitude, I knew Ma and Pa were worried sick. I returned almost immediately and apologized about scaring them, and told them about everything that happened.
After reassuring them that the fortress couldn't be found, I had brought up returning and investigating, which once again sparked up an argument. There was a lot of back and forth, but what eventually convinced them was the fact that if there was a way for me to learn to defend my mind from such things, it was most likely at the fortress. The recorded messages I had received from Jor El all pointed to him being benevolent, and the fact that the crystal had attempted to extend proper etiquette to them meant I wasn't about to be turned against humanity.
There had been shouting, tears, and a good amount of shock that I was going against them, (pretty much for the first time ever) but they eventually came around to letting me investigate. They wanted to come with me, but I reminded them that they didn't exactly have gear for the Antarctic cold, so I went by myself. By the end Pa had more or less come around to the fact that this was something I had to do, but Ma had still been crying. Still, before I left, she had kissed my cheek, and told me to come home soon.
I felt awful.
But I still left.
Pa was right. This was something I needed to do. My knee jerk reaction was to trust that the fortress was safe, because Superman, but that didn't change that I had been mind controlled. That wasn't fucking ok, and if I ended up needing to I'd heat vision the entire compound to atoms if it became necessary. I was pretty sure I wouldn't have to go that far, but I damn well needed to set some healthy boundaries at least, to whatever person or ship or AI I had been interfacing with.
In this situation, I had to suppress my fanboyish excitement, because at the end of the day, it was an alien spacecraft that had seeded itself on earth. No matter how fucking sweet that was, I needed to make sure it wasn't going to clone a new generation of kryptonians from my blood, or terraform the planet to match krypton, or destabilize the earths core for power or something.
When I had arrived, I was wary, but nothing could have prepared me for a tall black haired person to just fucking appear right in front of me. After my fist passed right through the man's face with no resistance, I realized he was a hologram. He smirked in amusement, but his gaze soon softened. "Hello, Kal El. My son."
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head at this, and I took in his appearance with a more careful eye. He was tall, a little over 6'4" if I had to guess, with slicked back pin straight black hair that was graying on the sides. He had dark brown eyes that seemed wise and inquisitive, and prominent eyebrows that were neither thin nor bushy. He had a strong square jaw and a straight well formed nose, with a muscular build and a skin tone that was slightly tanner than mine.
"You're my… Biological father? You're… Jor El?" I questioned. I had been expecting some sort of record, or maybe even some kind of set of prerecorded floating head messages, but the man before me was reacting to me and my words in real time. He may have been a hologram, but he was looking at me exactly like a real father would look at a lost son. With a potent mix of love and sadness with a thick undercurrent of a desperate need for connection.
"Yes." He answered, then seemed to reconsider. "Or rather, I am an exact replica of him, a complete digitization of of his entire being. A perfect scan, if you will, my every neural synapse being simulated in real time."
"Whoah." I responded, "You downloaded your brain into a computer?"
He responded, "In basic terms, yes. It was more of a copy than a direct download, but you grasp the concept."
"What… what happened to krypton? Like, I can assume it was destroyed, but how? Why? Were there any survivors?"
"To my knowledge, no. There were no survivors. My brother, Zor El, spoke of a plan to save his daughter, but if it had succeeded, she would certainly have already arrived. As for why and how Krypton was destroyed? That is… more complicated." Jor El seemed to steady himself, and began his tale. He spoke of Krypton, and its great civilization, that had lasted over 100,000 years. He spoke of their great expansion, and their skill as conquerors, philosophers, and scientists. About how at the height of their civilization the Kryptonian empire had spanned across thousands of fertile worlds.
I didn't know how to feel about this. No matter how glorious Jor El made it sound, the fact that they had conquered worlds and absorbed them into an empire made me quite uneasy. "So… what happened? If the Kryptonian Empire was so large, how were all the Kryptonians killed by the explosion of a single planet?"
Jor El sighed. "The golden age of krypton ended millennia before my generation. By the time I was born, the remnants of the Kryptonian population were confined to our star system. As for how this came to be? Well… what happened to us, or rather, The Kryptonian Empire, is what happens to all those who live by their own might, and the domination of lesser beings." At this I scowled. The fact that he didn't seem to be using the term 'lesser beings' in any kind of ironic or self condemning way disturbed me greatly.
He continued his tale. "We eventually met an enemy we could not defeat. Soldier to soldier, we were far superior, but their numbers were much greater. We were also far too overconfident in our technological superiority. We left remnants of our weapons and technology at every battle, certain they could not be reverse engineered."
I made a deadpan expression, thoroughly unimpressed by this act of arrogance. "Let me guess. They reverse engineered the tech."
Jor El scowled bitterly. "They did indeed. Specifically the sunstone, the main power source of Kryptonian technology. Sunstones hold the ability to utilize solar radiation as a catalyst for an exotic fusion reaction, identical to the kind that takes place in our bodies." He held up his hand, and a shining white Crystal appeared in it, about the size of a fist. "They weren't able to reproduce it perfectly, but what they stumbled on was a far more perfect weapon than they could have possibly imagined." Slowly, the glowing stone in his hand changed color from a brilliant white to a toxic shade of neon green.
Disdainfully, Jor El removed his hand from the stone, but the hologram remained in the air. "The imperfect sun stones they produced emit a radiation similar enough to actual solar rays that our bodies will readily absorb it, but unlike the genuine article it is highly toxic to our biology. Exposure instantly causes near fatal weakness, excruciating pain, and eventual death. Mockingly, they named their creation 'Kryptonite'."
"Not only was it fatally dangerous on its own, they would blast it into the cores of our conquered planets, slowly irradiating their biosphere and eventually destabilizing their cores, destroying the planets along with all life on them. They reached the edge of our system just as our head general, Rao, reached theirs. Faced with the imminent destruction of both our home worlds, a treaty was signed. The Kryptonians would retreat to their home system, never to attempt to retake their conquered territory. In return, our great enemy would leave us unmolested, not trespassing into the borders of our system. We would keep what population we had left, but we would never again attempt to leave The Rao system. Under a red sun, both our powers and our technology were hobbled."
"So, you lost." I commented.
Jor El scowled, "Only through cowardice and treachery!" He shouted, "And in the end, they did not even hold their end of the bargain! They infected our core with a slow acting version of that green death with secrecy and guile! In the end, we sacrificed the glory of our empire for the good of our people, and we did not even obtain what was promised! All we received was death and destruction!"
He breathed deeply, which was a bit surreal to see a hologram do, and centered himself. "All of the suffering I have endured in my life, all the hardship our people have experienced, has been a direct result of that old arrangement. Of their treachery."
I grimaced. As twisted as it was, it made a certain level of sense. Why leave an enemy at your back? The only way to ensure they don't eventually rise up and defeat you is to take them out permanently. But from what it sounds like, none of the Kryptonians that were a part of the imperial age of expansion were even alive anymore when Krypton was destroyed. It was heartless and cruel, plain and simple.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Jor El had failed to mention their name, and in the last message the actual physical Jor El recorded, he asked me not to take revenge. This 'great enemy' was definitely still around, and Jor El was trying to prevent me from seeking them out. My heart was like ice. If they found out I was on earth, would they come here? Would earth be destroyed because of me?
"This… enemy. Who are they? Are they still a threat?"
Jor El shook his head. "I will not tell you their identity. You are not strong enough to face them, not even remotely. I sent you to this world so that you could escape the fate of our world, and our people. This planet, M.W.G.O.A: C-23, is a cosmic crossroads, and an essential part of the Asgardian territories. The enemy would not dare to attack this planet with any significant force. So long as you stay here, you will be safe."
"So… what? I'm just supposed to stay here with my head in the sand?" I responded, "At least give me a name so I can know who to avoid!"
Jor El shook his head. "No. You are not ready to take on their armies. Not yet."
I scoffed, exasperated, "I'm not interested in 'taking on their armies'! I don't want to slaughter billions of men, women, and children just to repay an age old grudge, and I sure as Hell don't want to be some kind of conqueror!"
Jor El looked shocked, "Truly?"
"Yes!" I responded incredulously. "If some magic cosmic entity snapped their fingers right now and made all our enemies disappear, and there was nothing stopping me from 'rebuilding the kryptonian empire', I still wouldn't do it! I'm not a conqueror, I have no desire to EVER be a conqueror! I am thoroughly opposed to genocide! All I want to know is the name of the people I need to avoid!"
Jor El seemed deep in thought for a few seconds. "That is…" he sighed, sounding almost… disappointed. "Good." He finished, smiling weakly. "I believe you are speaking sincerely. And you are very wise not to yearn for conquest. I sent you to this planet for a fresh start. A new beginning. This is what I wanted." Despite his words, and his obvious relief, I could still see that on some level he was trying to convince himself as much as trying to convince me.
He continued, "I will still do everything I can to train you to a level where you can survive, should they find you. Do not deny me this."
I nodded. "Sounds good. It's not like I prefer being in danger. If I can gain the strength to protect what's important to me, than I will."
Jor El nodded back "Just so."
I looked at him pointedly. He still hadn't told me the name of the 'great enemy'. He sighed, resigned. "Their name is…" he paused, unsure, than continued as if ripping off a bandaid. "The Kree."
"Oh…" I said, unnerved. If the events of captain marvel were consistent, then Ronan the accuser had been within spitting distance of earth within my lifetime. I still hadn't gotten my powers in '95, if they had detected me there would have been nothing I could have done! Ma, Pa, and I would have died before Lexi was even born! It was frightning to know just how close me and my family were to complete annihilation!
"Are you ready to begin?" My biological father asked.
I nodded.
From then on I visited the fortress whenever I could get away, which wasn't that often at first, much to Jor El's dismay. I finished winter break with my family, and finished out my last year of high school, but after that I was at the fortress every day during the hours I used to attend school. I came home every day at more or less the same time Lexi got home from school, and I never neglected my chores.
Still, I couldn't help looking forward to visiting the fortress every day. It felt otherworldly and alien, in a way that I probably would have found eerie in my past life, but felt familiar in this one, like I was feeling nostalgic for a place I couldn't quite remember.
At first, most of my time there was learning about Krypton. While the language had been taught to my psychically as a baby and reawakened when I connected with my ship, we still had to work on making sure I had an actual understanding of the language, instead of my brain just auto translating into English.
Between lessons he would share memories with me, most of which featured my biological mother, Lara. While I had gotten many features from Jor El, including his height and strong jaw, I had gotten my crystal blue eyes, cleft chin and wavy hair from her. She was beautiful, and when Jor El looked at her face, he had lamented that she hadn't scanned herself as he did. Apparently copying your full consciousness into a computer was super illegal on krypton, and they had only started copying Jor El when they were certain the planet was being destroyed. There had only been enough time to copy one of them. I had left him alone after that for a few hours, and continued my language studies.
Once I had a conscious mastery of the language, I learned the basics of Kryptonian science, mathematics, history, even their understanding of physics and biology, which were far more advanced than anything I learned in high school, and most likely outstripping anything I could have learned in an earth college.
I made use of my powers and enhanced mind as much as possible, which Jor El frowned upon, as he claimed doing it this way was inferior to traditional learning, as it was more like downloading a file than actually learning it, and there would be lack of connections made between concepts. He would often say, "the achievement of knowledge is not any guarantee of the achievement of understanding."
And while I agreed with him on some level, the fact that he insisted that I had a 'proper Kryptonian education' before learning 'the ways of war' was the reason I was trying to rush through it.
Finally, the time came when my education was considered 'adequate for my age level'. While there were many Kryptonian martial arts, there was one that was considered the one to stand above all others, the art that was created specifically for use by a Kryptonian powered by a yellow sun, and was considered illegal to learn in its pure form when the treaty of confinement was signed.
The name of this martial art was Torquasm. It had two components that were designed to work together, Torquasm Vo, the art of the mind, and Torquasm Rao, the art of the body.
Kryptonians didn't have naturally occurring defenses to telepathic control, whether it was psychic or mystical in origin, and Torquasm Vo was initially created to overcome this weakness. At its beginner level, it involved creating psychic shields to protect one's mind from telepathic attack, but at higher levels it was a pathway to many abilities, including the creation of a 'mind palace' that enhanced memory and mental defense, the use of a psychic avatar to fend off telepathic attack and destroy invaders, and eventually even the ability to enter the minds of others to go on the attack, destroying their minds or erasing their memories with simple physical contact, though there are ancient legends of masters not even needing that much, able to project their psychic powers onto billions at once through line of sight alone.
While Torquasm Vo was dedicated to eliminating the weaknesses of Kryptonians, Torquasm Rao was dedicated to amplifying our strengths. At a beginner level it involved training each kryptonian power to perfection, as well as learning how to properly fight using flight as a personal source of total leverage. However the truly amazing part, (or terrifying part depending upon your point of view) was it's higher levels, which focused pretty much solely on the Kryptonian power of solar absorption.
Untrained Kryptonians were limited in the amount of solar radiation we could absorb at once, and going too far over that limit could cause our cells to begin degenerating, giving great power for a short time, but quickly leading to death. The higher levels of Torquasm Rao training focused on raising this limit, allowing Kryptonians to safely absorb more and more solar energy, with masters being able to 'play in the plasma of a yellow sun like a babe in a shallow pool'. The power of these unparalleled masters was said to be 'greater than the sky fathers themselves, shaking the universe and reality itself with the force of their combat'.
Jor El admitted that these words were scriptures from eons past, so they weren't exactly confirmed, but from the actual recorded accounts of General Rao (who was named after the same ancient Kryptonian god that our red sun and Torquasm Rao was named after) they weren't all that far off from the truth.
Which, I'll be honest, absolutely scared the shit out of me to think about. I still got anxious about being able to accidentally break people's bones for heaven's sake, but fucking shaking the fucking fabric of the fucking universe?!
Yeah. Hell no. No thanks. No fucking way. If I remember right, the Kree are currently in the process of chilling out big time, ending their warring ways. All I need to do is hang out on 'midguard' long enough to get my name on that treaty of theirs along with the Nova, and I'm free to explore the universe if I wish. Until then? I'll just have to stay here on earth with my beautiful farmhouse, loving family, and an entire planets worth of sightseeing, good people, and exotic food. Oh no. What a nightmare.
It was for this reason that I pretty much exclusively practiced Torquasm Vo, much to Jor El's disappointment. The passion he had in his eyes when he spoke of the unparalleled death and destruction that a master of Torquasm Rao was capable of was disturbing to me, and for that reason, I put off on learning it, focusing all my training time on my mental defenses.
I often told myself I wasn't acting out of fear, but logic. After all, there aren't many people on currently on earth that are capable of pressing me physically, but I could name off the top of my head several people in marvel capable of telepathic attack, that were confirmed by the MCU or the presence of wolverine in that old ww2 photo.
Psychic mutants (sooo many psychic mutants), sorcerers, witches, werewolf by night confirmed the presence of vampires so them too, hydra brainwashing, and I'm sure I could think of many, many more.
The point is, I wasn't avoiding torquasm Rao. Not at all. I was just… being judicious and pragmatic about where I spent my time and effort. That's it. The Kree were no longer a threat. No matter that they were still controlled by the supreme intelligence, essentially the EXACT SAME LEADER that led them in their wars and destruction, or that they still financially supported Ronan in the guardians of the galaxy movie despite publicly declaring no relationship to him.
Look, even if this turns out to be a Kree plot to lower everyone's guard, the point is, I have time. Lots of it.
I'm fine.
Suddenly, I was brought out of my musings with a breach in my defenses. I could feel Jor El connecting with my mind the same way the Crystal did three years ago. While Kryptonians weren't naturally psychic, And Jor El wasn't fully trained in Torquasm Vo, he was able to use the neural interface of the fortress to simulate a psychic attacker. Concentrating hard, and absorbing as much as I could of the intense sunlight of the training room, I marshaled my defenses and attempted to expel the intrusion.
"You are distracted." Jor El deadpanned near emotionlessly, though there was a hint of disappointment that leaked through. "You are thinking of your fear of the Kree. Of your fear of yourself, and your own power."
I scowled in anger and embarrassment, and finally was able to toss Jor El out of my brain. The fucker.
"It's not fear." I insisted, "Its reasonable Concern."
"Ridiculous." My bio father argued. "You claim that power corrupts, but that is simply not true. It only provides opportunity for urges that are already there, but simply could not previously be acted upon. Do you currently desire to bring the earth to heel and to convert the population to slaves? Do you have a desire to rape every humanoid being you come across, or steal the property of everyone around you until they are homeless?"
I rolled my eyes to heaven. Same fucking argument, Different fucking day. "Of course not. But it's not that simple. You forget that people change over time. Temptation doesn't take hold all at once. It starts with little things. Your tolerance for things you view as unsavory increases. Many horrible things have been done in the name of the greater good."
"Done by humans you mean." Jor El responded. "We are Kryptonian. We are more evolved than they."
I grit my teeth in frustration and rage. "Oh! So going out conquering planets and subjugating their populations wasn't an act of folly?! Corruption, temptation, and greed didn't have ANYTHING to do with that, no sir! We are blameless and perfect!"
Jor El was able to break into my mind again. "You are slipping." He said with a hint of smugness.
Calming myself I ejected him out again. I had to remember he was trying to piss me off, to make me lose focus. We had argued enough that he knew exactly which buttons to push to piss me the fuck off.
"The more powerful you are, the more you walk a razors edge of morality, and the easier it is to fall. So no, you might not become a monster overnight, but the more powerful you are, the more your smallest mistake has the potential to negatively impact countless others in its wake. All it takes is the smallest urge, the most natural justifiable instinct to push you over the edge, and anyone can be just a few rationalizations away from committing major atrocities for 'the greater good'"
Jor El responded in a haughty, arrogant tone, and though my eyes were closed I could practically see the trollish grin on his fucking face, "Kryptonians have no need to balance on a Razor, we can fly. We are literally above such things. Kal El, have you taken leave of your senses?"
You fucker. After all that, that's what you took away? It's a fucking metaphor. It's not supposed to be literal. You fucking know that. I know you know that.
Just as I was about to call what was likely the most intelligent AI in the entire Milky Way galaxy a dumbass, we were interrupted by a quiet but piercing tone that was totally unique from regular earth noise. It was Pa's signal watch!
A signal watch used a tachyon pulse that uniquely interacted with a crystalline structure in a kryptonians ear, instantly notifying them (me) of its activation no matter how far away it was.
Was Pa in danger?!
"Sorry, My Pa's in trouble! Gotta go!"
Blasting out of the training room without waiting for a response, I exited the fortress as quickly as possible, exiting the packet dimension into real space with a flash and rocketed towards the signal, which sounded like it was coming from home.
Normally I would go a bit slower than max and concentrate on smoothing out my flight aura to fly pretty much silently, but I didn't give a fuck right now. I frantically ripped through the sky, making a roaring noise with my passing like a supersonic fighter jet as flew faster than I had ever flown in my life so far.
As I sped closer my mind raced at the sounds of conflict I picked up coming from the farm, many of which I didn't recognize. Someone was attacking the farm! Someone was attacking my family! My family that accepted me! My family that loved me! That finally found me after all this time! After living an entire life of loneliness and misery!
A hundred different thoughts and feelings flew through my mind, each one worse than the last, but at the end, my panic and anxiety settled in to one single emotion.
RAGE.
And that's a wrap! Ain't I a stinker?
Seriously though, I am SOOO sorry for taking this long to write. I've been having a lot of trouble with my health which has now caused me to be on a specialized diet. (I was literally shitting blood). I also almost lost my job from calling out absent from work so much while I was sick! It's been a busy time and I haven't been able to write a lot, so I apologize. I'm feeling better now, and should be able to start posting again. The next chapter is a big fight so I'm exited to write it!
A bit of news. For those of you who don't care about my other fics feel free to stop reading now if you haven't already lol.
After careful consideration, I'm taking my one piece story off of my regular schedule. Since it was my first story I started, I love it dearly, but I need to do some serious editing on it before I continue, especially the more recent chapters as I was trying to muscle my way past writers block.
Also, I do my best work when my imagination is hyper fixated on something, and I have a few plot bunnies hopping around my brain right now, (self/OC inserts as usual lol) so expect a few new fics to drop in the next little bit. They probably wont be on my regular rotation, which is currently just this fic and my Star Wars one, but you never know what will happen.
I am not abandoning my one piece fic! I'm just touching up some things about it I don't like before eventually continuing with the story. I still have big plans for it, and I'm not dropping it! Just taking a little break.
Have a good week everyone!
Ciao!