Afternoon — Xavier Institute
Jean left the gates of the Institute alone. Only two accompanied her outside: Charles and Logan.
She had told the others, but since everyone had something to do, they couldn't come to say goodbye.
After watching her leave for a few seconds, Logan silently pushed Charles's wheelchair back inside.
"It's time to find a new assistant, Charles," Logan muttered.
"Logan, would you be interested in—" the Professor began, hopeful.
"Don't even finish that sentence," Logan cut in immediately. "I'm not interested."
Faced with the blunt rejection, Charles simply smiled. Along the way, a few young mutants waved at the two of them, receiving a gentle wave in return.
Once they were in the headmaster's office and Logan was about to leave, Charles stopped him.
"Logan, wait a second."
"Charles, I already said no," he snapped impatiently.
"It's not about that," Charles said, keeping his voice calm.
"Now that the X-Men and the Brotherhood of Mutants are in the process of cooperating… there's a delicate issue."
"Their identities as criminals are far too sensitive," Logan replied at once, crossing his arms impatiently.
"Exactly. Do you see any alternative?"
Logan snorted, turned around, and dropped onto the couch.
"Just say what you have in mind," Logan said, already suspicious.
"I'd like you to be the link between us and the Brotherhood. A mediator, so to speak."
"A mediator?"
"Exactly. We just need a chance. A first step to show that coexistence is possible."
Logan fell silent, digesting the words. Old Xavier had a glimmer of hope in his eyes, as if he could see a future where mutant factions might truly walk together.
"I'll think about it," Logan finally said, standing up.
As he left the room, Charles knew that, coming from Logan, that was already an acceptance.
"Good luck out there, Jean," he whispered to himself as he looked out the window.
Even convinced that she needed freedom, Charles still felt a little reluctant to let her go.
---
Arthur's House — Later That Night
At the dinner table, Arthur was sitting beside Gwen and Jean.
"Seriously? You're moving in here?" he said, surprised.
Even Gwen seemed excited by the idea.
"Gwen, didn't you say your dad wouldn't let you leave the house at night yet?" Jean teased, raising an eyebrow.
Gwen smiled proudly and puffed out her chest.
"Cortana, demonstrate."
Cortana immediately projected herself into the air and replied:
[Gwen asked me to create a holographic projector with her image and voice. As long as no one tries to touch it, no one will realize she isn't in her room.]
Arthur's eyes widened, but he only sighed.
"This is going to cause trouble someday…"
"See? I'm smart!" Gwen declared, puffing out her chest with exaggerated pride.
Jean crossed her arms and shot a direct look at Arthur, completely ignoring Gwen.
"You taught her that, didn't you?"
By Jean's logic, if there was any mischief or crazy idea involved, it was probably Arthur's fault.
Arthur just laughed, waving a hand as if absolving himself of any responsibility.
"Me? Not even dreaming. This masterpiece of chaos was all her."
He was telling the truth. He would never have thought of something that crazy.
Sometimes it seemed like girls' brains had a special ability to create chaos in record time.
Jean sighed theatrically and looked at Gwen.
"You collect bad ideas like kids collect trading cards, don't you?"
Gwen replied by sticking out her tongue, without the slightest regret.
After dinner, Arthur stretched like a king in his castle and dropped the bomb:
"Good luck washing the dishes, princesses. Consider it training for the future."
"Training?!" Jean exclaimed indignantly.
"Exactly," Arthur said, already heading toward the backyard.
Gwen just laughed.
---xXx---
In the backyard, with the evening wind blowing, Arthur opened his arms, stretched lightly, and mentally called out:
"System, log in for today."
[Login successful.]
[Reward: Shadow Servant]
Description: The Shadow Servant is an entity born of absolute darkness, shaped by the summoner's will. Upon creation, it assumes the form of someone known to the user. The Shadow Servant reproduces the abilities, techniques, and combat style of the copied person, albeit in a lesser version. The greater the user's familiarity and understanding of the copied target, the more faithful and powerful the servant becomes.
[Upon manifesting, the Shadow Servant is automatically classified into one of the following Classes, according to the combat archetype of the imitated person:]
• Saber: Specialist in close-quarters combat with blades, possessing refined techniques and high precision.
• Archer: Long-range attacker, capable of lethal shots and strategic attacks from afar.
• Lancer: Swift combatant with polearms, focused on piercing attacks and mobility.
• Caster: User of magic, rituals, and supernatural abilities, manipulating the battlefield.
• Assassin: Specialist in stealth, lethal strikes, and silent elimination.
• Berserker: Manifestation of brute strength and uncontrolled fury, sacrificing reason for absolute power.
• Rider: Mounted combatant or one with exceptional mastery over creatures, vehicles, or external entities.
[Effects:]
• Replicates the appearance and primary set of abilities of the known target.
• Possesses limited autonomy, directly obeying the summoner's orders.
Limitations:
• Cannot copy unknown individuals or those only vaguely remembered.
• The servant's power is inferior to the original, unless the user's emotional bond with the target is extremely strong.
"…" Arthur's eyes widened when he saw what he had received.
"This is all well and good, but what's the point if it can't copy someone I don't know or only vaguely remember?" Arthur grumbled.
Because of that limitation, the reward became partially useless.
"Sure, I could copy Enkidu, but… this reward would only turn him into a servant without consciousness. There's no reason to stain his memory with something like that." Arthur sighed.
"It'll have to stay stored for now. Maybe one day it'll be useful," he said.
---
Meanwhile…
In the center of New York, in front of the tallest building in the city, dozens of police officers were positioned around it.
George paced back and forth, every step heavy with tension.
He turned to the radio:
"Stay alert on every corner. Any strange movement, report it immediately."
"Understood!" voices echoed over the radios around him.
Beside him, Curt Connors looked almost as nervous as George.
George shot him a stern look.
"I hope you're right, Dr. Connors. We've put all our chips on this."
"If Peter decided to attack the water treatment plant instead…" George continued, frowning, "then we've just wasted men and time."
Connors swallowed hard but remained firm.
"No. I'm sure Peter will come here."
He was certain of it. A certainty that came from deep within his mind.
---
Elsewhere, deep within the Freedom Tower…
In the underground drainage system, the Lizard rose atop a damp platform.
He had just completed another molt. His body was even larger and stronger than before.
He let out a long breath and soon caught a familiar scent: humans—there were many of them.
And among them were two he would never forget.
Dr. Connors and George Stacy.
The Lizard growled softly.
"So you brought them to me, Dr. Connors."
Soon, the serum that would transform all of New York—and then the world—into perfect replicas of himself would be ready.
He licked his teeth, eyes shining with anticipation.
"Spider-Woman…" he murmured, a hint of anger mixed with excitement.
"I hope you're ready. Because next time… I won't lose."
---
(End of chapter)
A/N: This system reward (yes, I know I had already forgotten it existed) is just preparation for one of the future arcs.