The alliance between the X-Men and Iron Man had delivered a devastating blow to the Lake Alkali base—an operation so massive, it sent shockwaves across the globe.
Naturally, it didn't go unnoticed by S.H.I.E.L.D.
Unlike the sluggish response of the White House and military bureaucracy, S.H.I.E.L.D. reacted with astonishing speed. But rather than dispatch agents to the scene, Director Nick Fury issued a different kind of order—one far more calculated.
"Activate all available satellite resources," he commanded. "Track the X-Men's Blackbird. We need to locate the new Xavier's School."
At the S.H.I.E.L.D. air base, Commander Maria Hill stood in front of a massive screen, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the glowing red dot representing the Blackbird.
"Sir, with all due respect," she said, voice tinged with concern, "the Mutants may be making noise, but they haven't posed a direct threat to global security. This technically falls outside our operational scope."
Fury's one remaining eye narrowed slightly. "I'm not looking to start a fight with them, Commander," he said. "But a hidden Xavier's School… a fleet of powerful Mutants operating beyond our watch… That's a loose thread I don't like leaving unchecked."
Hill nodded, understanding the gravity behind his words. "So we observe. Quietly. Just in case."
Fury gave a low hum of agreement. "S.H.I.E.L.D. exists to safeguard Earth. And that includes identifying every potential threat before it becomes one."
Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden flicker on the screen. Hill's eyes widened.
"They're heading toward the Pacific…"
Before she could finish her sentence, the red dot vanished.
"What just happened?" Fury's voice dropped into a grave tone.
"Target signal lost!" shouted a technician. "No signs of deceleration. They didn't land—they just… disappeared!"
Fury exhaled sharply. "Again?"
He remembered all too well the last time Xavier's School had vanished without a trace.
This time, the Blackbird had been in mid-flight.
Hill furrowed her brow. "Could they have cloaked the aircraft? We have stealth capabilities too, but theirs would have to be far beyond ours to vanish that quickly."
Fury remained silent for a moment before murmuring, "My gut says this isn't cloaking. They weren't flying toward Xavier's School at all."
His gaze turned intense. "Maybe they've developed long-range space transition technology."
Hill blinked in shock. "Like teleportation? You mean like that blue-skinned Mutant—Nightcrawler?"
"More advanced than that," Fury said. "We need to accelerate our research on the Tesseract immediately."
Unease crept into his voice, rare for a man like Fury.
"Coulson is still in the southwest," he said. "Hill, you're going to the last known location of that signal. See what's there."
"Understood."
Inside the Blackbird, over a hundred Mutants who had narrowly escaped the horrors of the Weapon X facility sat in anxious silence.
As they passed through a dense cloud bank, the world outside the windows suddenly changed.
One moment, there was only sky and sea.
The next—an entirely new landscape appeared.
Mountains, forests, rivers, roads… a floating island.
It hovered serenely in mid-air, as though plucked from a fantasy novel.
"Welcome to Xavier's School," Storm announced, her voice calm and reassuring. "This is your home now."
The tension among the new arrivals eased slightly, replaced by awe.
None of them were strangers to miracles—not after surviving Weapon X. Still, seeing a levitating island with full infrastructure was something else entirely.
The Blackbird landed on a sprawling field that served as the academy's playground.
Cyclops and Jean Grey descended first, followed by Wolverine, who was helping a frail middle-aged man down the ramp. The other Mutants followed in silence.
At the edge of the field stood Professor X, flanked by many of the school's current students.
His face lit up with joy—until he saw the man being supported by Wolverine.
His eyes widened.
"Sean?!"
A raspy chuckle escaped the man's lips. "Hey, Charles. Long time, huh…"
His voice was hoarse, his mouth partially destroyed, and his body riddled with scars, bruises, and puncture marks from countless injections and surgeries.
This was Sean Cassidy—codename: Banshee. A founding member of the original X-Men. His power: ultrasonic soundwaves.
Charles Xavier's composure cracked.
He had always believed Banshee had either defected or died during Magneto's uprising. But seeing him now, broken yet alive, filled Charles with guilt.
"I thought we'd lost you," Charles said quietly, taking his hand.
"I thought the same about myself," Sean replied with a weary smile.
Joseph stood atop the Blackbird, his figure radiating calm.
Everyone turned their eyes toward him.
"When did he get up there?"
"Was he flying with us the whole time?"
The Mutants whispered in hushed curiosity.
"Don't worry," Joseph said, voice firm but soothing. "Everything will be fine."
He extended a hand, and green energy began to glow from his palm.
The energy cascaded down like a soft wave, bathing the new arrivals in light.
The refugees from Weapon X tensed instinctively—many had been subjected to brutal experiments. But Joseph's words calmed them enough to stay put.
Warmth spread through their bodies. Pain faded. Wounds stitched themselves shut. Even Banshee's ravaged throat began to heal.
Some wept.
Others moaned softly in relief.
It had been so long since they had felt anything remotely resembling peace.
Joseph watched silently.
He knew many of them would face long-term psychological scars. Years of torture weren't erased in a single day. Still, it was a start.
And for some, even hope was healing.
"Hold onto this feeling," Joseph said. "From today onward, the pain you've suffered is over."
Mutants of all ages—some grizzled with age, others as young as teenagers—looked at him with newfound belief.
"Will we really be allowed to live like normal people now?" someone asked.
Joseph didn't hesitate.
"Not just live," he said. "You will thrive. You'll study here, learn to control your powers, and grow into individuals the world will one day admire. You will be stars in your own sky."
The disbelief in their eyes turned to cautious hope.
Shadowcat, standing at the edge of the group, raised her phone.
"Katie, ready?" Joseph asked.
"I've been waiting for this," she said with a grin.
A hologram flickered into view, displaying a sleek promotional video for Xavier's School.
She uploaded it directly to the Mutant channel of the Daily X.
The video's publication marked the dawn of a new era.
Elsewhere, in a slum district of Twisting City, a loud bang echoed from a decrepit alleyway.
Gunshots, screams—nothing unusual in this part of town.
But this time, it wasn't a robbery. It was retaliation.
A young girl—maybe fifteen—stood with her arms raised, short green hair framing her fierce expression.
Steel bars hovered threateningly above a group of trembling gangsters.
"You robbed a homeless old man? Harrison's pushing sixty, and you still went after him?"
One thug, stammering, pointed under the TV cabinet. "T-The money's there… take it…"
"Smart choice."
She retrieved the bills and turned toward the door, disgusted by the room's contents: beer, drugs, condoms. Scum.
But just as she was leaving, the TV caught her attention.
"The X-Men have announced the opening of Xavier's School, a sanctuary for all Mutants, effective immediately..."
Her eyes widened.
"They're opening a school?"
Her voice dropped into a whisper. "Mutant school… really?"
She froze.
For years, she'd hidden, survived on scraps, stayed in the shadows.
Could this be the turning point?
"I'm Lorna Dane," she whispered to herself, "and maybe… maybe it's time to stop hiding."
Meanwhile, in California, a high-speed car chase was underway.
Police sirens wailed. Officers shouted. But they couldn't catch their quarry.
Every time they closed the gap, a shimmering portal appeared, and the fugitive would teleport out of reach.
"Damn it!" one guard roared. "She's playing games with us!"
The suspect—Clarice Ferguson, a.k.a. Blink—came to a sudden halt in front of a town square screen.
News blared.
"Xavier's School has begun enrollment for Mutants. All ages welcome…"
Clarice stared.
Behind her, the police approached, guns raised.
"Clarice Ferguson, you're under arrest—"
A final portal flashed, and she was gone.
But one guard swore he heard her whisper before vanishing:
"I'll never be arrested again for my powers. Not if I'm at Xavier's School."
In a Las Vegas casino, a man with eerily perfect luck stopped mid-bet.
He watched the newsfeed for a long moment, then smirked.
"So Logan's back in business, huh?"
In Twist City, Gwen Stacy paused as she passed through the living room.
Her father, Sheriff George Stacy, was watching the news.
"Xavier's School…" she murmured.
"I have powers," she whispered, glancing down at her hand, remembering the spider bite.
"I'm not a Mutant, but… do I belong there too?"
A great wind surged across the world.
The storm was no longer brewing.
It had arrived.
And Xavier's School was at its eye.
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