"I don't think I ever got your name..." Charles said as he led Scott, Fred and Mort to the makeshift hospital the bald man had set up, Fred's steps sending Thuds that made people nearby stumble as he walked buy, dust from the ceiling shaking off at his steps.
"Didn't give it." Scott answered as he took an old metal folding chair for a seat while Charles rifled through a cabinet of medical equipment.
"So, what's a normal human doing helping someone like me and my buds?" Mortimer asked as he leaned against a nearby wall with half faded subway markings.
"Because it's the right thing to do." Charles answered with an earnestness that surprised Scott inwardly, though he didn't show it.
"Nah. Can't be that simple," Mort mused, his long green tongue shooting out at high speed and catching a mosquito. "My guess is you're a mutant and you're hiding it because you're scared."
Charles only chuckled, and easily at this.
"I assure you, young man, I am not a Mutant at all. I see this as an extension of my efforts at humanitarianism." he explained as he set up some extremely strange looking scanner that looked pieced together from junk. "Mutants deserve the same compassion and understanding as any other human born with a unique trait that is potentially life altering. I see it as a duty to help make certain that Mutants get that from at least someone in the Human Race. Someone to help them more openly should the Mutant Community ever decide that it wishes to come out of hiding and interact with non-powered individuals on a more regular level."
Mort looked unimpressed, his long tongue shooting out to catch another fly.
"Buddy, you got way more problems than whether or not humans are gonna accept mutants," Mort remarked chewing while Scott quietly studied Charles.
Xavier raised an eyebrow at the toad like teenager.
"Perhaps you would care to list some of what you feel to be the issues. I would be more than happy to discuss it," Charles assured as he finally finished preparing the scanner and running a blue beam it emitted from a lens at the top over Scott.
"So, young man," Charles spoke as he focused on scanning Scott who didn't comment due to his ongoing observation. "What do you think may be impediments to my intentions?"
"The question of whether or not Mutant can trust Mutant."
Charles was given a half second pause, his expression tightening for a split second.
"I mean, look at me. Not much to write home about. I got a frog tongue and frog legs...and I look disgusting..." Mort observed. "I can't stand being like this. I'd be done with it in an instant if I could. But that doesn't mean I'd wanna go hanging with Mutants who could easily kill me. I mean, not unless we went way back like me and, uh, Cyclops here..." he said, gesturing to Scott.
"Cyclops? Is that your Mutant name?" Xavier asked Scott.
"Sure. Why not?" Scott replied with a tone lacking anything but rigid, unfeeling steel.
"What is the purpose of that visor you're wearing?" Xavier asked as he scanned Scott.
"I emit death rays from my eyes," Scott answered. "This visor seems to lower the output and focuses the energy into a single beam, and it also blocks it."
Xavier stopped, mouth dropping open slightly. To Scott's surprise, Xavier didn't try to leave his direct line of sight at all.
"I... forgive me, Cyclops, I have never encountered such extreme examples of Mutation before." Xavier said in clear surprise, genuine fascination playing out on his face. "You're a medical marvel."
"I'd rather have his powers," Scott said, gesturing with his thumb to Mort. "I'd take them even if it meant Flies and Mosquitos start tasting like fries to me."
"I'd kinda rather have Mort's mutation too." Fred admitted. "Can't stand being stared at...at least Mort can run and hide somewhere small when he wants."
"Your Mutation is a wonderful thing, Cyclops," Xavier said respectfully to Scott before turning to Fred and Mortimer.
"None of you have anything to be ashamed for. There's no reason that anyone in these tunnels couldn't become fully integrated, productive members of society, with the right help and compassion. It's just that their Mutations must be approached on a case-by-case basis to help them understand and train themselves to control various aspects of their gifts."
"Gifts? I can demolish everything and everyone I stare at!" Scott protested. "Literally NO ONE in this whole tunnel system is safe as long as I'm present. Don't you call having a Death Ray in your skull a gift!"
Xavier did not respond to this at first, only shutting off the scanner and rising.
"I did not mean to come off as trivializing your circumstances, Cyclops. I offer my apologies if I sounded oblivious or insensitive to your issues," Xavier said politely and quietly. "You've been through a terribly stressful ordeal, along with your friends. You have every right of course to feel anxious..." he continued, the strange scanner device printing out some small square of paper from a slot on the side.
"Hmmm...your entire body was taxed severely by an overdose of what appears to be an artificial form of Mutant Adrenaline, one whose chemical make-up I have never seen before," Xavier said with deep concern.
"Cyclops, I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist you be confined to a hospital bed for the next forty-eight hours."
"Why? I feel fine."
"For now, but when the chemical in your system wears off, you're likely to have a reaction. Heck, it's probably gonna start soon. I'll need to prepare medication for you immediately to help treat the effects. You're going to want to move as little as possible," Xavier explained.
"Cyclops gonna be okay?" Fred asked.
"Only if he has as little physical activity as possible for the next few days, then yes, he should be," Xavier answered. "He took a deadly risk and was lucky the dosage he ingested was only a few percentage points less than what would have been lethal."
"So, two screwups tonight," Scott thought out loud soberly, suddenly feeling hot, then cold...
"I may not have been fully privy to every detail of what occurred tonight, but from what Callisto told me when she accessed the security feeds before wiping them, you came up with an escape plan with very little knowledge or resources at hand other than your gifts or your wits. You coordinated something you likely have never had to do before, battling the effects of toxic chemical ingestion, fear, and trauma," Xavier countered as he helped up Scott, legs already starting to buckle and weaken from the chemical as he was helped to bed. "I don't think anyone was expecting you to come up with a plan to make a four-star general envious. It's actually very impressive you successfully executed an escape at all."
"But a four-star general's plan might have helped more." Scott replied bitterly as he lay down, starting to sweat as Xavier injected mutant calibrated chemical detoxifiers into his bloodstream. "Might have allowed more people to escape with us. But I was really only thinking of getting me and the people I knew best out."
"Walk me through it, all of you. I'd like to know what led up to the escape. What prompted it," Xavier requested.
"The one running the Orphanage, Essex? She was using some sort of machine to make us forget she was running experiments on us. Her lab was real high tech too. Like something out of a comic book," Scott answered, feeling very weak and chills like he had caught a cold. "The machine left me too weak to move most times. Took me forever to summon the strength to steal a capsule of the stuff during one session. The machine itself was starting to fail on me. Don't know why."
Xavier rubbed his chin.
"Most irregular. Who exactly is this 'Essex'?"
"Natalie Essex. Head of the Essex Orphanage. Place functioned almost like a school you couldn't leave, so when I got home from High school, it was more study," Mort grumbled.
"But Essex had side hobbies. Real odd stuff for just the head of an Orphanage to know. Always creeped me out." Fred added glumly. "Now I know why."
"Do you know anything about her personal life? Friends, family, perhaps what college she went to?" Xavier asked. " I have connections to some of the higher ups in the city. Perhaps I can do some digging."
"Natalie always kept her personal life to herself. I was sent there after ... never mind," Scott said, stopping himself, not wanting to think of the plane accident.
"I see. Well, try to get some sleep, Cyclops. As for the rest of you, I need you to give the young man his space. He's had a very long day. Unless you two feel you need some form of medical attention?" Xavier asked.
"Nah, man, I'm good. C'mon Fred, we'll see if the others need any help around here!" Mort said, hopping off. The massive thuds of Fred's footsteps followed.
"Cyclops, one last thing. I'd like to examine that visor-"
"Not a good idea. What if I have a nightmare and use my death rays by accident?" Scott replied.
"Of course. Whatever you feel is best," Xavier replied with a nod.
Scott reached into his pocket, pulled out the lab notes he had stolen.
"Here...maybe you can make heads or tails of this crap."
"Thank you, Cyclops."
"You're...welcome...Mister Xavier."
Xavier walked and left the shaking, trembling Scott to deal with the effects of the detoxification of his body.
...
"Wow..." Callisto whispered as she went over the stolen Lab Report with Xavier in the privacy of what served as Callisto's quarters in the tunnel, the old, large ticket office in the old subway, cleared out to make way from an army type cot.
"The power output from his eyes was too great for even the instruments of this Criminal you're after to properly measure," Xavier elaborated as he glanced over the lab report. "His ability is unlike anything I've ever had any experience in helping others get control of. It hopelessly defies all known laws of physics if what these papers say are accurate."
"What was Essex trying to do? Make a God?" Callisto asked with all sincerity as she glanced over Essex's research notes.
"There's nothing to suggest Cyclops' mutation is not a product of the X-Gene simply manifesting-" Xavier protested.
"Wake up, Charlie!" Callisto spat as she rose up from the cot. "There's no way a mutation like that is natural. No way a mutation like that should even be possible."
"Even if that is the case, it doesn't mean we can't help Cyclops adapt to his new abilities, help him grow to accept them. He's deeply frightened, Cally. I can see it. He needs to be eased into this."
"But will our enemies give us time?" Callisto pondered. "You have your ears to the ground. You know what's happening at Genosha. Pretty soon, it's not gonna matter how deep we burrow underground. We need someone like him."
"To what end? As a Soldier?" Xavier asked disapprovingly.
"As a deterrent against the attempted genocide of Mutants. But yes, as a Soldier!" Callisto snapped passionately, wheeling to face him. "Instant the Public finds out there's someone who can stare their tanks and planes and boats out of existence? Hoo, boy, I wouldn't wanna be the guy who even has to start thinking of a counter response to that. The only thing you could do would be to try and nuke him, and that's if he doesn't see the missile coming." Callisto pointed out in a darkly eager way.
"Cally, while I do agree that Mutants WILL be the targets of severe Bigotry in certain misinformed or even outright ignorant sections of the Populace, I have always strongly disagreed that it would be to the extent it would turn to an organized attempt at exterminating Mutants entirely," Xavier asserted. "Times have changed. People are willing to be more open minded."
"Better to have a deterrent and not need it than to need a deterrent and not have it," Callisto retorted to Xavier's high-minded reasoning. "God love 'ya, Charlie, but you sure have a problem seeing the darker side of human nature."
"I'm afraid I see it all too well, Cally, which is why I've tried to dedicate my life to a higher standard," Xavier insisted. "Homo Mutatis and Homo Sapien can co-exist, it will just take work on both our sides to discover the natural boundaries and rules of healthy societal interaction with one another."
"You say times have changed. Maybe you're right..." Callisto mused watching the other Mutants try to have some sort of life down here with what supplies she could forage for...or what Xavier supplied her, which was an incalculable contribution.
"But I don't think they've changed that much. So, I'm not gonna hold my breath," the one-eyed woman said.
"Becoming militant would only spark fears that Mutants are preparing for war," Charles criticized.
"Only because we would rather have peace. I don't wanna fire the first shot, Charlie. But if I have to? I'll fire the last shot to protect everyone down here. These are my people, Charlie. I'm their leader. I'm responsible for their well-being. And this 'Essex' that the boy escaped? She is a deadly criminal that MY people must apprehend and judge. You're a good man, Charlie, we consider you a dear friend to the Morlocks, to Mutants everywhere...but if we are going to stop hiding in the dark like you suggest, then we need to learn first how to stand up for ourselves. A great first lesson would be us figuring out where Essex is and making sure she answers for what she's done."
"And how will she answer? I wish you had told me how bad this individual was, Cally, instead of me having to piece it together from listening to others and playing guessing games," Xavier complained with no small amount of genuine annoyance. "Unsanctioned vigilante actions could only hurt our mutual cause of Mutant Prosperity."
"The less you knew about Essex, the better. She is a monster, Charles. She taints everything she touches with suffering and death. She's the exact sort of nutjob the Germans liked to use when Rogers was running around Europe smacking their soldiers into puree with that shield of his. Knowing about her puts you in danger. Knowing more about her puts you in MORE danger."
"I can't aid Mutants to my fullest if I'm not given a full dataset to work with, Cally," Xavier replied, noting how much venom was in Callisto's voice even talking about Essex.
Callisto sighed, rubbing her good eye.
"I know, Charlie. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into."
Callisto left, leaving Xavier to study the notes in greater detail.
...
Scott awoke three days later in fresh clothes. He felt the burning desire for water and for a moment, removed the visor he had worn since falling asleep. Everything still hurt. He had been fed and watered intravenously and removed the tubing quickly.
He rubbed the sides of his temples. Wearing the visor for so long had left marks. It definitely hadn't been designed for long term comfort, and the longer he examined it, the more he began to realize how bulky it's system actually was.
"Good. You're awake."
Scott turned, saw Callisto eyeing him.
"Cyclops..." she trailed, musing over the name she had heard Xavier use.
"Because of the visor, right? How appropriate," Callisto remarked. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I could use a hot shower. Is there one down here?" Scott asked.
"Two minutes south. Pretty busy, most days. Hungry?"
"I'll worry about that after I shower." he muttered getting out of bed, grabbing a spare change of clothes left for him nearby and a towel.
As he staggered through the Morlock tunnels in medical scrubs, knees and muscles weak and hurting, the appearances of the Mutants became more and more disturbing, and most withdrew or outright hid from his gaze. Word traveled fast. Others gathered to look at him and Scott began to understand why the Morlocks hid here. HE was the oddball in this place, not the other way around. Disturbingly, he noticed some seemed deeply fascinated by him as he reached the shower stalls, the kind they set up in disaster areas, and saw it was busy and the air wafted with steam and strange smells. He waited just outside the area and as soon as a mutant with heavy, silvery scales all over his body walked out in clothes purchased by Charles, Scott walked into the changing booth and then let the water hit him as soon as he was in the stall...
All he could think about were the mutants he had sprang from captivity...his mouth twisted into a deep frown behind the curtain as the water slid down his face. Not even here did he dare take his visor off, growing more fearful of his power the longer he thought about just how insanely destructive the power actually was.
When he was done, a still frowning Scott changed into fresh clothes and left the ones he had been wearing in a designated laundry bin and stopped when he saw a crowd of severely physically irregular Mutants all waiting for him. They were horrors to look upon, inspiring an instinctive dread in Scott, and the moment was made more horrible when one of the severely deformed mutants spoke like a normal man through misshapen lips.
"Are you the one who can destroy whatever he looks at?"
"I..." Scott trailed. How did he respond to that?
"... yes. I'm the one. I'm...I'm called Cyclops..." No sense in these people knowing his actual name. Why give 'em ammo? Why give 'em something to track him with?
"Did you free all those people?" another, horribly ugly mutant that was too awful to describe asked in the voice of a teenage girl.
"I tried to," Scott assured her, not knowing what else to say. He disguised his horror at their appearance, even as some small part of him was reminded of the old warning not to throw stones in glass houses.
"Well...thanks...for trying to help your fellow Mutants," the girl said before the horribly ugly mutants departed a granite faced Scott.
"No problem..." he replied quietly as they left, terrified at the idea he might end up like them. From what he had gleaned by Xavier's reaction, his mutation was unknown territory. Who knows what using it long enough would do to him.
Scott decided to look for food, he stopped a passing mutant, one with tentacles for arms. Scott would have traded his mutation for tentacle arms in a hot second. Anything to be free of the Death Ray in his skull.
"This place got a cafeteria?"
"Yeah. Further down a tunnel route south. One minute's walk. Follow the red line." the lamprey mouthed mutant replied in a slurred voice.
"Thanks..." Scott replied, going quickly as his stomach growled. He got more discomforting stares as he walked down a slightly darkened route in the old tunnel system, noting just how much of it had been expertly converted to the needs of the Morlocks. Not one inch of wasted space. Surprisingly clean too. Callisto ran a tight ship; he'd say that much for her. He finally smelled food and quickened his pace to the sight of a line of mutants waiting for their turn at a soup counter, dug into the bedrock itself next to the tunnels. He saw a lanky boy in his early teens in thick glasses wearing blue jeans and a black shirt wearing a surgical mask over his face as he served each mutant a bowl of soup from a nearby steel pot atop a hastily assembled electric stove from spare parts, powered by a Stark Industries Graphene Battery five years out of date.
Scott waited patiently, growling stomach getting worse until he reached the counter, staring at the brown-haired teenager, who looked like a toothpick could knock him over as his bowl was prepped.
"So, what's your Mutant name?" Scott asked.
"Oh, uh...I...I don't have one. Human volunteer down here. I'm Peter! Peter Parker!" the boy behind the counter said in a friendly manner as he handed Scott his soup.
"Cyclops. You with Xavier?" Scott asked.
"Not really. We discovered this place independently of each other," Peter answered. "He seems nice, and he's really helpful!"
Scott glanced down and he noticed a bandaged wound on Peter's upper forearm, looked to be covering a large, swollen particularly nasty bump. A bite from an insect, perhaps...
Peter seemed to unconsciously pull the arm with the insect bite away from view, though he still kept a friendly smile.
"Huh. Thanks Peter," Scott replied, walking off, grabbing a plastic spoon from a nearby cup and found the old benches they had set up in their dug-out space, flickering haphazardly constructed lighting systems overhead. He spotted Fred and Mort, who waved him over to an old, beat-up looking picnic table. Fred was standing to eat, and Mort was just stirring his food.
Everyone went still, some of the more hideous mutants gasping as they saw him. As he walked, Mutants cleared out of the cafeteria, not wanting to be anywhere near him if that visor somehow fell off by accident. He turned red in the face, everyone repositioning themselves so they wouldn't be in line of sight. Yet another reminder of the hated Death Ray.
"Hey, guys." Scott said stoically, burying his feelings as he sat down. "Peter seems nice."
"Makes me almost hope the rest of the world won't reject us." Mort muttered, looking around at some of the other severely mutated people here and how badly they feared Scott. "Wonder what his deal is. What's a kid like him gettin' outta it?"
"Maybe he just wants to be nice?" Fred offered, slurping down the last of his soup.
"Yeah, but he ain't thinkin' about the sorta heat he'll bring on himself if he gets caught with us down here. Hope the Kid thinks it's worth it..." Mort muttered, still staring into his soup bowl.
"He came down here to help. Whatever his reasons, he's taking time out of his day to help feed people like us," Scott said.
"Oh, so it's 'us' now, huh?" Mort asked.
"Beggars can't be choosers," Scott replied. "And there has to be somebody out there who can shut off these death rays in my skull permanently. Or at least weaken them to the point I won't kill someone if I stare at them without this goggle on my face."
"So, you goin' after Essex?" Fred asked.
"Damn right. She pays for what she did to us. All of us. You two with me?" Scott asked.
"Yeah. It'll give me time to figure out what to do with my life..." Mort replied, finally taking a bite.
"Just promise me I get first crack at that jaw of hers and I'm down," Fred responded, pounding a meaty fat fist into the palm of his other hand.
"I'll let you both have the first punches. Then I get mine..." Scott assured darkly as he began eating. "You'll both still have to flip for who goes first."
...
Scott found Xavier in what passed for a machine shop in the tunnels twenty minutes after he was done eating. Xavier was putting together some sort of strange, projector like device, and happened to turn and notice Cyclops walking in.
"Oh, Cyclops! There you are!' Xavier said as he pulled off his welding mask and shut off the welding torch he had been using.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, walking up to the sullen, now increasingly stoic teenager.
"Like compacted trash. Yourself?"
"Worked ragged the past three days, I'm afraid..." Xavier replied. "I had a chance to look over those lab papers you gave me. Your device is indeed an exotic little piece of technology. I barely understand how it's supposed to work. But from what I gather, it's functional, but unfinished."
"Kinda got that impression when I found it." Scott muttered.
"Your visor is made of incredibly exotic materials. Chief among them is the metals Adamantium and Vibranium. They've been alloyed together in a very specific mixture to render the device's housing at least, virtually indestructible."
"I've never heard of those metals before," Scott confessed, folding his arms, fighting the brain fog.
"That's because they are extremely rare. So rare as to be considered almost mythical," Xavier explained. "The government ran limited experiments with what few samples they had in both the second World War and The Korean War. Funding for the projects ran out around the time the Vietnam War began. And unless I'm very much mistaken, the exact ratio of Adamantium and Vibranium appears to be the same as that of Captain Roger's Shield."
"How do you know what Captain America's shield is made of?" Scott asked. "Nobody knows what his shield is made of. Even the president himself supposedly doesn't know."
"Another story for another time, I'm afraid..." Xavier replied quickly, going back over the papers.
"Now, it's the third component that caught my eye in the papers..." Xavier trailed, pulling the stolen lab papers out of his pocket, going over to a nearby table and smoothing them out on the surface.
"The interior housing is lined in a material known as Ruby Quartz. Its alternative names are Nur-ian Quartz, and Nur-ian Ruby Quartz," Xavier explained. "Parts of your monocle system, the lens to be specific, are also constructed of this material."
"I don't get it..." Scott trailed, the confusion on his visored face clear. "How can Quartz block a Death Ray? I mean, I can understand making my visor with those metals...but quartz?"
"Nur-ian Ruby Quartz is a highly valuable mineral in the creation of high-end lasers. I have no doubt that plays a part in why it's being used for the visor. But the papers unfortunately don't tell me why it blocks your energy. That's what we are going to find out, " Xavier affirmed. "But our task will be difficult. I don't have the scientific know how to fully understand it. The one who does, however, is currently sequestered away in his estate. A man named Hank McCoy. Perhaps you've heard of him?"
Scott nodded. "Aerospace industry, right? MVP for Nasa Engineering? He's an Omniglot."
"Correct. We'll need to visit him eventually. But first, we need to obtain a large enough sample of Ruby Quartz for him to sufficiently analyze. Unfortunately, Ruby Quartz only occurs naturally in one place in the world...in a mine in Egypt's Black Desert."
"Aren't there any other loose samples closer to us?" Scott asked, frowning.
Xavier shook his head. "I'm afraid any other sample in the country is under strict lock and key in military facilities, not just here, but the world over, and unless we feel like becoming the newest inmates in a maximum-security federal prison, we'll have the good sense to stay far away from those samples. However, the Mine in Egypt is run with relatively much laxer security. It's incredibly large, with hellish conditions, and isolated to boot."
"They'll shoot us just the same for being there without a good reason," Scott pointed out. "I'm not military. I ain't even got a passport."
"We won't need one. I have a plan. We'll have to go to my home. It's in Westchester," Charles spoke. "If everything goes right, we'll be back here in under a few hours..."
"You got a private Jet, or something?" Scott asked.
Xavier smiled. "Something like that. We can leave whenever you're ready."
Scott shrugged. "We gotta get Mort and Fred with us."
"I'm sorry, Cyclops...but Fred...Fred would never fit in my car...and the Jet would never lift off with him aboard it." Xavier said quietly, embarrassed. "I can take Mort, though, certainly."
"I'll let him know..." Scott trailed. "Lemme go find Mort."
...
The Drive through New York after what he had just experienced seemed almost surreal to Scott and Mort as they rode in the back of Charles' expensive cherry red luxury car. Seeing ordinary people walking and talking as the streets passed by in a blur, the silvery spire that was Avengers Tower glittering in the morning sky as they headed to Westchester reminded Scott of all that he was separated from living in that orphanage. All that was too dangerous for him to be around now, with the Death Ray in his skull.
Scott wanted this nightmare to end. But he knew it wasn't going to.
He had never been lucky in life. Now it seemed as though the universe itself had conspired against him in cursing him with the ability to destroy what he looked at, even for a second.
He longed to be rid of it. Was there a cure? He would have traded both his arms, his legs, and the ability to see anything ever again if it meant he would no longer have this mutation. Already he was having nightmarish thoughts of people being nice to him not because they wanted to be, but because they didn't want to upset him.
What kind of life could that be?
"Whoa..." Mort trailed as he saw the stately, rectangular, almost castle-like design with multiple rows and windows, and a pair of tall iron lamps at the gated entrance. Scott noticed the sign at the entrance, embossed in bronze; XAVIER'S ACADEMY FOR TALENTED YOUTH.
"You run a school?" Scott questioned.
"Well, yes and no. After we're out of the car I'll explain..."
"How do you afford all this?" Scott asked politely.
"My family is old money. Oil. Diamonds. Spices. Stocks. The lawyers tell me I could donate forty million dollars a day to charity for the rest of my life and I still wouldn't come close to shaving all of that fortune off. So, I try and use it to help the community around me. It beats letting it just rot in some account in Switzerland..." Charles said as he pressed a button on the dashboard and the gates made and audible buzzing sound as they swung open away from the vehicle and he drove up the stone path.
"If you're this loaded, Doc, how come the Morlocks aren't living better?" Mortimer asked, somewhat irritated.
"My money is the only reason those tunnels the Morlocks are in are even habitable. It's also extremely difficult to provide the resources and secrecy they need while I am currently limited to only a few hands that I trust, AND making sure their friends and loved ones can move through the network I maintain across the entire country. Believe me, Mortimer, I'm doing everything humanly possible to help," Charles answered patiently as he pulled up to the front entrance.
"How many students you got here?" Mort asked as he got out of the car, peering at everything through his goggles that hid his abnormally large eyes.
"Er, none, as of yet..." Charles trailed.
"I thought you said this was a school." Scott muttered.
"It is!" Charles exclaimed very mildly. "It's just one that has yet to be finished. I'm still working out some of the finer details..."
"What kind of students? Trust fund types?" Mort asked cynically.
"This school will be for Mutants, regardless of their economic status." Xavier answered back. "I'm building this place to be a safer, more defensible haven for Mutants. But I don't want to open it before its curriculum is ready, and I certainly don't want to open it before all the reinforcements are complete...especially now that I know Mutants such as yourself exist, Cyclops."
"What makes you think a school is gonna help? If there's more out there like me, we DON'T need to be actively looking for them. You saw how the Morlocks reacted to me, and they're Mutants. How's the world gonna react when it finds out there is a household full of Mutants who can each destroy a city?" Scott challenged, the morning wind rustling through his slightly red hair.
"Do you truly have so little faith in Society's ability to accept someone different, Cyclops?" Xavier challenged back.
"Yes," Scott said flatly and without regret. "Because I remember what it's like to not have a death ray in both eyes. I know I sure wouldn't want to get near anybody like I am now back then. It's a matter of public safety. What right do you have to gather anyone as dangerous as I am? To teach them to use something that is already dangerous and make them more dangerous in the process?"
Xavier and Scott stared at one another for a pregnant moment of silence that lasted uncomfortably too long, to the point the cars driving in the distance could be heard clearly. Mort's head darted between the two, offering no comment of his own other than to catch a fly that buzzed by with his tongue and eat it.
"Look at what happened to you, Mort, and Fred as an example, Cyclops. A whole prison camp basically, full of Mutants. Mutants who did not know how to defend themselves until you decided to see if it was possible to use your power to get yourself out of a Jam. You already chose to become dangerous," Xavier replied calmly, mind drifting to thoughts of the Red Queen Hypothesis. "Your kind will come out of the Shadows soon. It's inevitable. The Mutant Population is reaching a critical point in its growth, such that it will no longer be possible to hide completely..." he trailed, walking up to Scott a few steps.
"You are a member of a newly emerging subspecies of humanity. You are the most powerful example of your species that I or anyone in my line of work beyond this criminal we're after has ever encountered up to this point. Your fear is understandable...but as much as the Morlocks feared you Scott, I saw others who looked at you in awe and wonder. You had visitors over the past three days you were out cold. You freed your kind from captivity. That made you a liberator. A symbol of Mutant strength and power."
"And destructiveness..." Scott replied dismissively. "All it takes is one mistake with this power, Charles. Just one, and there goes a city block."
Xavier shook his head.
"The risks are great, I admit. But the risk of leaving powerful mutants untrained, unready to face the world around them, will lead to the exact same scenario you so fear. Just think of the accident that might have happened had you not even had the admittedly terrible experience of fighting your way to freedom, while out here, without potentially even that visor you're scared to remove," Xavier said in his defense. "Mutantkind will need examples like this to strive towards. Hope. Symbols like you. Because if we don't try to provide that example, that standard to achieve, our rivals will provide an alternative standard. Rivals like Natalie Essex, or worse."
Scott didn't have an easy reply to that. At least, not one that wasn't dripping with pessimism or cynicism. He simply gestured for Xavier to get the front door. Xavier did so and they were soon in a lavish, tastefully decorated interior of mahogany and stone.
"Yeah, you're old money, alright," Scott muttered as he walked in, whistling.
Mort hopped ahead, wanting to see everything. It was large, and curiously silent.
"Anybody else live here?" Scott asked, peering around.
"Remy and Anna LeBeau. Live in chefs that will be serving the students who eventually come here," Charles answered. "Follow me, I'll take you to meet them."
Scott shrugged dismissively in silence and followed Charles down the polished wood passages, not a speck of dust anywhere. Eventually he smelled heavy spices and meaty stews cooking as he entered the large kitchen.
"Remy, ah swear ta Gawd, you whine one more time about dis' here Gumbo not having enough onions, I reckon I'll make you eat thuh whole thing!" he saw a rather beautiful woman say in a playful manner to a man a few years older than he was, in his mid to late twenties, with a shock of crimson hair in a ponytail behind dark glasses, a black t-shirt and blue jeans with faded, scuffed brown boots, wearing a large white, puffy chef hat like Anna did while idly shuffling a deck of cards. Scott looked, noticed with unconscious alarm how much Remy's features reminded him of his dad's, and instead refocused on the woman, also older than him by a few years, but considerably supermodel in terms of looks, with brunette hair in long waves that had a distinct white streak running through it, dressed in a long green summer dress, with fair skin, curiously wearing work gloves.
"Ol' Remy knows his Gumbo, Petite," Remy replied with a thick accent that Scott immediately identified as from Mississippi; His father had been stationed there, once, when he was very young, just after he had been born, in fact. Same with Anna.
She fixed bright green eyes (after rolling them in exasperation in Remy's direction) on the three and smiled at him and the Professor, and even Mort.
"Why hello, there, Professuh...and I see y'all brought guests! Remy, Charlie brought guests!" she called out to Remy, making him put away his deck and stand up.
"Professuh! Didn't expect you back so soon. Food's almost ready. Was just showing the missus how to prep Gumbo-"
"Remy, you know gosh darn well I been cooking Gumbo as long as you have! Maybe even longer!" Anna complained rather mildly as she stirred the stew in the large steel pot.
"Not nearly long enough to propuh balance the ratio of Celery tuh Bell Peppuh!" Remy shot back playfully, to which she only giggled. Scott noticed the diamond rings on their wedding fingers.
"I'm just kidding. She's a great cook, and I do adore her," Remy said to the others good naturedly. "Welcome to the mansion. First stop for Mutantkind's brighter and prettier future, all tied up in a bow."
"Remy, as usual, you're a bottomless pit of memes and euphemisms," Xavier chuckled.
"I do try, Professuh," Remy replied with a grin, removing his chef's hat. "These yuh first two students?" he asked, looking at Scott and Mort.
"They're more guests, getting a lay of the land. I'm heading off to Egypt in the Jet in a little bit and I wanted to introduce you and Anna before I left with them."
Remy beamed at Scott and Mort and stuck his hand out.
"Bonjou, friends. I'm Remy. I'm thuh Cook-"
"-when I'm not doin' the stirrin'..." Anna teased playfully.
"And stir so lovely, you do, Chere Amie," Remy said in response, grinning before returning his attention to them.
"Wanna try some Gumbo, kids? House specialty. Beats that slop that poor kid Peter is serving up in the tunnels...bless his heart though. It's in thuh right place, dat one."
"I'm with you there!" Mort agreed, both to the food and his opinion of Peter and Peter's food.
"Sure. Why not." Scott said in a stoic manner, trying not to freak at how much Remy looked like his Dad...
"Which reminds me, Charlie, I just got done finished making muh grandma's raisin muffins and I got a good stock tuh take down tuh thuh Morlocks..." Anna mentioned as she used a separate spoon to taste the stew mix before washing the spoon in the sink and putting it up.
"Ready to go!" she added with a smile.
"I'll bring it down there myself along with the medicine you and Remy purchased. Take the rest of the day off, you two have been burning the midnight oil to help me all week." Xavier replied good naturedly.
"Why thanks, Professuh!" Anna replied cheerfully.
While Mort scarfed on the Gumbo as soon as he was served up, Scott took his time, carefully tasting everything. He analyzed every aspect of it.
"So, what's your name, Kid? And what's with the fancy goggles?" Remy asked.
"I'm Cyclops." Scott answered quietly, unsmiling as he ate his food. "The goggle is for your protection."
"Protection?" Anna asked, tilting her head.
"Cyclops is a very unique Mutant," Xavier said. "With an incredible but dangerous gift. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you or warn you over the phone. But this was an emergency. I had to bring him here in secrecy."
"What's his powuh?" Anna asked.
"Cyke's got Death Rays coming out of his eyes that can level a skyscraper!" Mort said as he ate.
He felt the change come in the air instantly.
"For real?" Remy asked.
"Serious?" Anna wondered in a quiet voice.
"Yes." Scott answered back, grimacing very slightly.
"That's...that's amazing..." Remy said.
"No kiddin, hon..." Anna replied.
"It's not something I would have picked," Scott said as he took another bite.
"Evolution has never really given who it affects much of a say, I'm afraid..." Xavier replied, trying his best to show empathy. "It's just the hand you've been dealt, Cyclops."
"Gotta be some way to shut it off forever that doesn't kill me in the process," he grumbled as he finished his last bite.
"Cyclops, yuh got nothing to be ashamed of-" Anna protested.
"It's not a matter of shame. No one should have this much power, literally for the sight-seeing..."
"Cyclops..." Anna said softly, turning down the heat and walking away from the pot.
"Yuh can't spend yuh existence rejecting yuh own nature, son! It ain't healthy! It ain't natural," she said, trying to reassure him.
"Neither is getting atomized," he coldly rejoined, and Anna realized Scott did not process things the way others his age did. His assessment of his situation considered cold reality and survival first and comfy philosophy and idealism a distant fourth place. Who even knew what priorities two and three were.
Anna decided not to press it, simply holding her hands up in surrender while nodding slightly and backing off a bit to go back to check on the stew...
Xavier frowned but decided discretion was the better part of valor, at least where Cyclops was concerned.
...
The elevator at the end of the hall took everyone down to a level where the ceilings and floors were bright, polished steel, and the walls were mirrors with words frosted over the top in certain sections, indicating they led somewhere else.
"So, are you two Mutants?" Mort asked bluntly of Anna and Remy as they walked with them.
"No more than thuh Professuh is..." Remy replied. "Hundred percent human, me and Anna."
"Yeah. Sure," Mort muttered, hopping ahead, stopping to examine something on display. His eyes widened as he backed away.
"No way. It can't be. It's a fake. It's gotta be a fake..." Mort said, gesturing to the object behind plexiglass. "Is it real?"
"Well, yes and no..." Xavier said, walking up to the display with the others.
It was a large round shield, mostly a dark blue in color, save for a small white star at the direct center, and a crimson outer shield edge.
"It's a backup shield Captain Rogers had made and entrusted to me..." Xavier said. "It's not made of the same material as the true shield-this one is purified Carbonadium-Vibranium Alloy. Carbonadium is an Adamantium substitute created by the Russians during the early seventies. Only about eight tenths' as strong as real Adamantium, resulting in a shield that is ultimately weaker than the true one."
"You served with Captain Rogers?" Scott asked.
"As a medic in his unit back in 'seventy-one," Xavier confirmed. "One of the great honors of my life."
"We should take it..." Scott advised.
"Huh?" Remy asked.
"We got attacked by squads of robots with energy weapons four days ago. Super tough shield could come in handy..." Scott pointed out.
Xavier pondered this a moment with a thoughtful rub of the chin.
"He does have a point..." Xavier admitted, pulling out his key ring, sifting through the many keys and finding the one that unlocked the display, and opening it a few seconds later, pulling it off its rest.
"Wait, hold on, robots? Yuh got attacked by robots, kid?" Remy exclaimed.
"It's a long story," Scott said.
"Professuh, what kinda trouble you in dat involves robots?" Remy asked.
"I have no time to explain. But I give you my word we aren't going anywhere looking for trouble, Remy," Xavier assured.
"But what if trouble come lookin' fuh you, Professuh?" Remy asked pointedly.
"Then we'll deal with it without anyone getting hurt," Xavier replied confidently.
Anna seemed uneasy, but slowly nodded at his reassurance. Remy didn't seem fully satisfied but held his peace.
"Alright then, Professuh. Good luck...and don't get them here boys into no trouble you can't get 'em out of..."
"I'll take your warning to heart, Remy...and I promise I'll be extra careful..." Xavier responded. "Hold the fort down while I'm gone."
Remy nodded, and Xavier, Mort and Scott turned and followed Xavier into a lab.
"This is a little something Professor McCoy built for me..." Xavier said going over to look at what seemed to be a heavily modified, disposable camera model. So heavily altered it was impossible to tell what model it had originally been, connected to a harness that had a lot of strange electronics attached to it, including lenses for some sort of projection system.
"It's a prototype holographic disguise system. You take a photo of someone you want to emulate with the camera, and the harness electronics recreates the person emulated around you. I've found the disguise to be next to flawless, even at close range, but it's got its problems."
"Next to flawless? You ever test it in a desert environment?" Mort asked skeptically.
"No. Which is why we won't use it unless we have no other choice..." Xavier answered. "It may buy us some time in case we need to get past security in the mine proper, but I wouldn't want to push my luck too hard while outside."
"Is that the only one?" Scott asked.
"For now, at least," Xavier replied. "Limited power supply. Only ten minutes worth of operating time. System is at risk of overheating if used too often."
"Ingenious," Scott complimented sincerely. "What kinda Jet we taking?"
Xavier smiled.
"Wealth does have its little bonuses."
...
The Jet was the shape of a flying wing, sleek and black, with crimson tinted windows, and flat, rectangular engine exhausts, and was slightly above the size of a normal, personal luxury jet aircraft, situated in the center of a dome shaped chamber.
"It's a prototype supersonic stealth VTOL aircraft, originally intended to help with airborne insertions above enemy territory," Xavier explained as the hatch on the bottom opened and he led the others aboard the shiny steel interior, that was designed to house troops rather than passengers on a luxury flight.
"It was originally meant to be deployed from Carriers. Unfortunately, Hank at the time was unable to lower the size of the vessel to something the Navy would have found desirable without significantly compromising the safety of the occupants it was supposed to transport," Xavier added as he went to the rather complicated looking cockpit, handing the special hologram harness over to Scott.
"A couple of misplaced shipments on Hank's end, a few greased palms on mine, and four years of painstaking re-assembly, and here we are," Xavier said, powering it up. "Get seated the both of you. The Jet isn't exactly comfortable. Try and make the best of it..."
Scott and Mort strapped down, and Xavier typed in the codes that activated the Jet's camouflage field as the dome entrance above it split open. There was curiously no hum or rumble usually associated with craft like this. It was a smooth lift off, and soon, a smooth flight as the Jet airlifted out of the garden grounds in the back of the mansion and took off for Egypt...
Scott remained stone faced, refusing to show any emotion. First robots, now Captain America's back up shield, a holographic harness, and a stealth plane taking him off to another country he didn't have a visa for.
"My life has gone insane..." Scott muttered under his breath...
"What's that, Cyke?" Mort asked.
"Nothing," Scott answered.