Horizon University – East Wing, Science Complex
The lecture hall was split right down the middle — literally. Horizon's baseline students filled the left side, Xavier's mutants filled the right. Someone had painted a thin white stripe across the carpet, a joke that stuck, a battlefield line no one crossed.
Jake sat in the dead center. Rogue beside him.
On his left, holographic schematics of Stark-level nanotech flickered across his tablet. On his right, a psionic resonance chart glowed on the whiteboard. Two worlds, two syllabi, one body trying to hold both.
"Teacher's pet," a Horizon kid muttered.
"Sellout," a mutant whispered.
Jake ignored both. He was used to being stared at like a riddle with missing pages.
The professor dimmed the lights. "Now — stability issues when mixing high-output cosmic energy with—"
Jake's hand twitched. His veins lit turquoise.
Rogue leaned in. "Sugah, you're buzzin' again."
Static snapped. Alloy's voice cut from his backpack.
"Buzzin'? More like overclocking a nuclear reactor with ADHD. Quick, someone get him a stress ball before he nukes the syllabus."
"Quiet," Jake hissed. Too late — Scott Summers' visor tilted toward him like a gun barrel.
"Control your toy, McGrath."
The glow surged. Rogue grabbed Jake's wrist — siphoning, stabilizing. The energy bled into her like water finding a dam. Within seconds, his pulse steadied.
The professor adjusted his glasses, murmuring: "Fascinating… a natural damping effect. That's… reminiscent of Essex's early work."
Jake froze. Rogue let go.
Essex.
The name landed like a curse.
Deadpool meta-cut: "First mention of Essex, folks! Foreshadowing klaxon: BWWWAAAMP. Somebody cue the violins. Bonus points if you imagined Benedict Cumberbatch saying it all sinister-like."