Kael POV
We left Hank's laboratory with a mixture of contained euphoria and solemnity. The air in the corridor seemed different, charged with the weight of what we had just witnessed. The application of Elixir to third parties wasn't just a theoretical possibility—it was real, and its implications were as vast as they were frightening.
Hank, with his scientific mind always a few steps ahead, had already determined the safety parameters. The maximum dosage for ordinary humans was negligible—less than a milliliter. But for mutants, whose bodies were already physically superior... that was different. Up to 5 ml for an Omega-level mutant, according to his calculations. Even this tiny amount, he explained with contained excitement, could catalyze improvements throughout the entire being.
The test with Charles and Rogue had been meticulously planned. Four milliliters each—a dose considered safe for Alpha-level mutants, but sufficient to produce measurable results. I had watched as Hank administered the injections, feeling the Elixir within me almost as if it were being shared.
The effect was immediate and intense. Both fell into a state of deep unconsciousness as their bodies underwent the transformation. I stood guard beside them, feeling the small energy fluctuations emanating from their bodies. It didn't take long—perhaps twenty minutes—before the two began to awaken.
Charles was the first. His eyes opened slowly, and then it happened, something none of us, in our most optimistic thoughts, had expected. He sat up, swung his legs off the gurney, and placed his feet on the floor. Firm. Stable.
"Hank?" his voice sounded different—stronger, more resonant.
"Charles... how are you feeling?" Hank asked, his yellow eyes wide behind his glasses.
Charles looked down at his own legs as if seeing a miracle. Then, slowly, he stood up. Not hesitantly, not trembling—but with the confidence of a man who had always known how to walk. He took a few steps, then a few more, and then, to everyone's astonishment, gave a small jump into the air.
An incredulous laugh escaped his lips. "I look like a boy on his first day of spring," he said, blushing slightly as he noticed our stares fixed on him. "Beyond the obvious... I feel an extraordinary physical improvement. As if I've returned to my twenties."
Rogue, now fully awake, shook her head in agreement. "Me too. Stronger... faster. But that's it."
"Wrong, my dear," Charles corrected softly, his expression becoming serious. "My telepathy... it's different. Stronger, clearer. Perhaps now it's at the beginning of the Omega level."
This made everyone in the room fall silent. I looked at Hank, then at Charles. "That's more interesting than we imagined," I commented, crossing my arms. "It seems the change isn't just physical. It's a complete improvement—including the X-gene itself."
My attention then turned to Rogue. "Your mutation may have intensified too."
It was Jean who voiced what we were all thinking. "So now you might be able to control it," she said, her voice full of cautious hope.
Logan, who had been silently observing from a corner, stepped forward. "Or kill someone for real with a touch," he completed, his voice grave.
The silence that followed was heavy, palpable. The implication was inescapable—we were playing with forces that could transform Rogue from a young woman frightened of her power into the most lethal entity on the planet.
It was then that Logan did something that defined who he was. He extended his hand, fearless, his claws still sheathed. "Seems like a good time to test it with someone who's immortal," he said, his smile containing all the pain and resilience of his long life.
Rogue looked at his outstretched hand, then at his face. "Logan, I..."
"You can do it, Marie," he encouraged softly. "Concentrate. Just like Kael told you."
I stepped forward. "Remember—it's about control, not suppression. Your mind commands your skin, not the other way around."
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, there was a renewed determination in them. Slowly, almost reverently, she extended her hand and touched his.
Nothing happened.
For a long second, no one moved. No one breathed. Then, a trembling smile began to form on Rogue's lips, growing until it became a laugh of pure ecstasy and relief. And then, the laughter turned into tears—tears from a prison she never thought she would escape.
She threw herself into Logan's arms, hugging him with a strength that would make an ordinary man fall. "Thank you," she cried, her face buried in his shoulder. "Thank you for believing in me."
He held her firmly, his own face showing a rare vulnerability. It was then that her powers apparently activated again, and he staggered slightly before Rogue, with visible effort, pulled back, consciously deactivating her absorption.
"I still need to train," she said, breathless but radiant. "But it works! I can control it!"
The rest of the day passed in a kind of dream. Rogue hugged everyone she saw—Hank, Jean, even me, though her touch on me was brief and careful. As she spread her contagious joy, Hank continued his analyses, collecting samples and running tests to quantify the level of the improvements.
The next morning, the atmosphere changed drastically. We were preparing for a journey that could forever alter the course of mutant history. The Blackbird awaited, its black fuselage gleaming in the morning light. We were a select group: Charles, Jean, Logan as pilot, and me.
We were all wearing our suits—not battle uniforms, but something more formal, more dignified. There was a silent weight among us as we boarded, each lost in their own thoughts about what was to come.
The trip to New York was silent, contemplative. Even Logan, usually so talkative, kept his thoughts to himself as his skilled hands guided the aircraft towards the United Nations headquarters.
When we landed and the ramp opened, I was the first to step out. The morning sunlight in Manhattan seemed especially bright, illuminating the UN complex like a stage. With each step I took towards the building, a Stealth Archer materialized beside me, her purple cloak enveloping her as she disappeared from view almost immediately. One here, another there—until a dozen of them were strategically positioned around the area, invisible, but their presence felt by all.
The others followed me—Charles walking with a confidence that no one but us understood, Jean with regal posture, Logan with his characteristic casual stance that couldn't disguise his innate alertness.
Maria Hill, in her usual business suit and impassive expression, approached us. "Kael," she greeted with a nod. "You can send your troops away. We will provide your security here."
I stared at her, allowing a cold smile to touch my lips. "Like the security you provided for all those mutants you knew were suffering and yet did nothing about?"
She didn't flinch, but I saw the tiny tremor in her jaw. Charles intervened, his voice calm but firm. "Maria, we appreciate the concern. But I think it's better this way. Shall we? Our time is coming."
She led us to a luxurious waiting room, where the tension was so thick you could almost taste it. When the door closed, Charles turned to us.
"The time for truth has come," he said, his voice low but laden with meaning. "The moment when we will make our allies... and our enemies."
I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about the enemies, Charles. I'll take care of them. Krakoa only needs to worry about developing and prospering. As for the fools who try to prevent that..." I left the sentence unfinished, but Charles's face showed he understood perfectly.
When we were called to the general assembly, a solemn quiet fell over us. We walked down the long corridor, our footsteps echoing on the polished marble. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were on us as we entered the vast hall.
Charles was led to the front, while we sat in the section designated for observers. What happened next made the air leave everyone's lungs in the room.
Instead of rising from the wheelchair, Charles simply stood up. And walked. Each step he took was a declaration, a silent refutation of all the limitations that had been imposed on him. The buzz that swept through the room was almost as loud as a shout.
He reached the podium, adjusted the microphone, and began to speak, his amplified voice echoing throughout the hall.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "for years, I have worked with one purpose in mind—the peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants."
He paused, his eyes scanning the room, meeting the eyes of delegates he had known for decades.
"But after the recent attacks on my school—where armed men attacked us not to protect anyone, but merely out of prejudice and fear of a threat that does not exist—I realized my philosophy was flawed."
Another pause, more significant this time. You could hear a pin drop.
"I realized that justice without force is impotent. But I also know that force without justice is merely tyranny."
He raised his head, and for the first time, I saw Charles Xavier not as the peacemaker, but as a statesman.
"Faced with this, I gathered the mutant leaders and made a final decision."
The silence in the room was now absolute.
"Today," he said, each word falling like a hammer blow, "the mutant nation of Krakoa arises. A nation where mutants can live in peace, without fear of being hunted for something they didn't do. Where they will be free to use their abilities for the world, unimpeded. A nation where they will not be lab rats locked in small cells underground, unable to see the sun."
The buzz started again, but Charles spoke over it.
"I know many will be against it. And I no longer care."
He made an almost imperceptible signal to Jean. "But before you vote against... read this."
With a graceful movement of her hand, Jean used her telekinesis to deliver a pamphlet to each delegate. The papers floated through the air, landing softly in front of each representative.
"These," Charles continued, as the delegates began to read, "are just some of the medicines that Krakoa's unique plants can produce. Cures for the most aggressive cancers. Reversal of degenerative diseases. Treatments your science hasn't even dreamed of."
He allowed the information to be absorbed before delivering the final blow.
"Only the nations that recognize Krakoa as a true and legitimate nation will have access to these medicines."
Chaos erupted. Delegates stood up, shouting accusations and protests. One of them, the representative of a major European country, pointed an accusing finger at Charles.
"This is blackmail! Extortion!"
That's when I acted.
With a thought, a Dragon materialized behind me, its colossal body filling the space behind our delegation. Its roar made the walls tremble. Beside it, the evolved P.E.K.K.A. appeared, its pink sword glowing and its armor imposing. Silence returned instantly.
I didn't need to say a word. Every person in that room had reports from their researchers—no conventional man-made weapon could seriously damage the P.E.K.K.A.'s armor. And if the dragon was equally resistant...
Charles looked at the shocked assembly, his expression not one of triumph, but of resolute sadness.
"It was not my intention to come to this point," he said calmly. "But you forced me. Therefore, I will let you think about it. But know one thing—it doesn't matter what you decide. Krakoa will exist. And it will not depend on your permission."
He inclined his head slightly. "Thank you for your time. Until we meet again."
As the mutant delegation turned to leave, I stayed for a moment, my eyes scanning the faces of the world leaders. Many looked away, unable to meet my gaze. But one stared back—the leader of Latveria, Doctor Doom. Through his metal mask, his eyes met mine with a calculating interest that almost seemed respectful. I returned the gaze for a moment before turning and following the others.
The return trip in the Blackbird began in silence, until Jean could no longer contain herself.
"Will they accept?" she asked, her voice slightly trembling.
"It doesn't matter," I replied, looking out the window at the clouds below. "We are giving them the illusion of power. Krakoa will exist, no matter what they decide."
"But what about armies?" Jean insisted. "You can defeat any army with your troops, but what about an atomic bomb?"
The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the terrible simplicity of her question.
"I... can't solve that yet," I admitted, the admission costing me. "The most I could do is take everyone to my dimension by force, but that's not a solution. Only a retreat."
I paused, choosing my words carefully. "But in the future, I will manage. And besides..." I looked directly at Jean. "That would be a perfect job for an Omega-level mutant with telekinesis."
The implication hung in the air between us. Charles, who had been in deep silence, finally spoke.
"It's true," he said, his voice thoughtful. "The Elixir not only increased the strength of my telepathy but also my control over it. It would be beneficial for you, Jean. For all of us."
He then turned to me, his expression serious. "Kael, once again, thank you. For protecting us. And for spending your precious resources for our enhancement."
I nodded, feeling the weight of his gratitude. "The quantity is minimal. It's not a problem."
The rest of the flight was spent on logistical discussions—the plans to begin the move, the construction of the cities on Krakoa, the infrastructure needed for a new nation. Charles and Jean strategized, their thoughts already moving into the future.
Meanwhile, my own mind turned to the new challenges this phase would bring. Today's display of power would prevent some attacks but encourage others. Countries that felt threatened might act unpredictably. And then there were independent players like Doom, whose intentions remained obscure.
I needed to get stronger. More versatile. My village was progressing well, but the threats we would face as a nation would require more than just brute force. I would need strategy, diplomacy, and a deeper understanding of the forces we were playing with.
As the Blackbird approached the X-Mansion, I was already mentally preparing to spend the next few days—subjective ones—in my village. There were improvements to be made, troops to be trained, defenses to be strengthened.
Krakoa was born today, but its true test was yet to come. And I would do everything in my power to ensure it not only survived but thrived.
The mutant nation was being born, and I would be its shield and its sword. No matter the cost.