The Danger Room was dark when they entered, panels in standby mode, humming faintly like the breath of some sleeping beast. Cyclops stood at the control station again, flanked by Jean Grey this time. His voice was calm but edged with command.
"Today we separate you," he said. "You both need to learn who you are as individuals, not just as a pair."
Mausgrau's ears flicked nervously. "Separate? But—"
Delilah placed a hand on her shoulder. "We can handle this. Trust yourself."
Mausgrau nodded reluctantly.
---
Mausgrau's Turn
The floor restructured, folding upward into a steel labyrinth. Mechanical growls echoed. Drones scuttled from the shadows, their eyes glowing crimson.
Mausgrau dropped to all fours, instincts sparking. She darted between walls, using her tail to vault over a drone before ripping its arm free. Her breath came quick, claws flashing as she fought in brutal, scrappy motions.
From the observation deck, Nightcrawler leaned forward, tail curling. "She fights with her heart. Not clean, not polished… but voller Geist. Full of spirit."
By the time the last drone crumpled, Mausgrau was bleeding from a gash on her leg, chest heaving. She stood tall anyway, defiant.
Cyclops keyed the console. "Unrefined… but she's learning control."
Jean smiled faintly. "And courage. That cannot be taught."
---
Delilah's Turn
The room reset to open ground, the steel tiles gleaming under harsh light. A swarm of drones materialized—twice as many as Mausgrau's.
Delilah stepped forward, her face unreadable. Inside, the nameless man stirred. Show them what we are. Show them what it means to wield true power.
Her hands glowed, shifting into blades—then into pure flame. She clenched her fists, lifted her arms… and the air itself ignited.
A spiral of fire whirled upward from her body, growing, twisting, until it formed a roaring tornado. The wind howled, dragging drones into its vortex. Metal melted, circuits shrieked, the storm devouring everything.
Jean gasped, her hands tightening on the rail. Cyclops' visor gleamed red as he prepared to intervene.
But Delilah's eyes blazed brighter. She spread her arms wide, and the tornado doubled, licking the ceiling. The room groaned under the heat.
The last drone screamed electronically before it was torn apart, its fragments scattering as molten ash.
And then—silence. The tornado collapsed in on itself, vanishing in a gust of sparks. Delilah stood at the center, her body steaming, hair whipping around her face. Her chest rose and fell, slow and measured.
From above, Jean whispered, "That… wasn't training. That was war."
Cyclops' jaw tightened. "She's a weapon. If she loses control—she burns us all."
---
Aftermath
Delilah walked out of the Danger Room alone, her footsteps echoing on the metal floor. Outside in the corridor, Mausgrau rushed up to her, eyes wide.
"What happened in there?" Mausgrau asked.
Delilah's voice was quiet, almost broken. "I didn't hold back."
Her hand trembled. She clenched it into a fist.
Inside, the nameless man whispered, And it felt good.