Three days after the Atlantis incident, Fury called a meeting at the Triskelion.
"You handled Namor better than I expected," he said without preamble. "That could have turned into a diplomatic nightmare. Instead, we've got the start of a functional relationship with Atlantis. Good work."
"Thanks," I said. "Though 'functional' might be generous. Namor made it pretty clear he's watching us."
"Better watching than attacking. But that brings me to why you're here." Fury pulled up classified files. "Your power levels are impressive, Cole. But they're also inconsistent. Sometimes you can handle god-tier telepaths, other times a heavily shielded soldier gives you trouble. You're unpredictable."
"I'm still learning."
"That's the problem. You're learning on the job, which means you're gambling with your team's lives every mission." He leaned forward. "I'm authorizing a training program. Intensive, specialized, designed to push you and your team past your current limitations."
"What kind of training?"
"Two tracks. First, your team undergoes advanced combat training with SHIELD's best instructors, plus some borrowed talent from the Avengers. We're talking about turning them from skilled operators into legitimate enhanced-class combatants."
"And the second track?"
"You work with Emma Frost."
I nearly stood up. "Absolutely not. She tried to wake Apocalypse. She manipulated Jean Grey. She—"
"She's also the most skilled telepath on the planet next to Xavier," Fury interrupted. "And she's offered to help. Full transparency, full SHIELD monitoring, in exchange for consideration on her sentence."
"Why would she do that?"
"Because she's bored, guilty, and apparently impressed by what you did with the Dominator Commander." He pulled up recordings of my interrogation of Emma after her capture. "She says, and I quote: 'Cole has raw power but no finesse. He's like a nuclear weapon being wielded by a child. Teach him properly, and he could actually be useful.'"
"Flattering."
"She's not wrong though," Fury said bluntly. "You're powerful, but you're sloppy. Half the time you win through sheer force or luck. That won't work forever."
I wanted to argue, but he had a point. My telepathy was strong, but my technique was crude compared to Xavier or Emma. I'd been learning on the fly, making it up as I went.
"What are the terms?" I asked finally.
"Six weeks. You train with Emma every day, SHIELD supervision at all times. She tries anything, we shut it down immediately and add decades to her sentence. In exchange, she gets better conditions and we consider parole in five years instead of never."
"And my team?"
"They train with SHIELD, plus special guest instructors. By the time those six weeks are up, you'll all be significantly more dangerous than you are now."
I thought about Namor, about how easily he'd outmatched us. About the Commander's consciousness in my head, the Atlantean core that had nearly killed me, the constant feeling that we were one step behind the threats we faced.
"I need to talk to my team," I said.
"You've got twenty-four hours. After that, the offer expires."
That evening, I gathered everyone in the common room and laid out Fury's proposal.
"So let me get this straight," Felicia said. "You want to train with the woman who manipulated Jean Grey and tried to wake an ancient mutant apocalypse god?"
"I don't want to," I clarified. "But I need to. Emma's right—I'm powerful but sloppy. And that sloppiness puts all of you at risk."
"What about us?" Rogue asked. "What's this SHIELD training?"
"Advanced combat protocols, tactical training, possibly some borrowed Avenger instructors. Fury wants to turn you into enhanced-class combatants."
"We're already pretty damn good," Jessica pointed out.
"Good isn't good enough anymore," Elektra said quietly. "Marcus is right. We barely handled Namor. If he'd decided to kill us, we'd be dead. We need to be better."
"Ah agree," Rogue said. "Ah've been getting stronger with my absorption, but Ah'm not using it efficiently. Proper training could help."
Maya signed: "If we're going to keep operating at this level, we need every advantage. I'm in."
"Jessica?" I asked.
She sighed. "I don't like it. But you're right. We need to level up or we're going to get killed. I'm in."
"Felicia?"
She looked at me for a long moment. "I trust you. If you think this is necessary, then we do it. But Marcus—if Emma tries anything, you shut her down immediately. I don't care if it ruins your training. Understood?"
"Understood."
The SHIELD facility where Emma was being held was deep underground—multiple containment protocols, psionic dampeners, and enough firepower to level a city block if needed.
They brought her to a specialized training room—reinforced walls, psychic monitoring equipment, and a dozen armed guards watching from behind one-way glass.
Emma looked different from the last time I'd seen her. Gone was the arrogant confidence. She seemed… tired. Genuinely remorseful.
"Marcus Cole," she said as I entered. "The anomaly who keeps defying expectations."
"Emma Frost. The master telepath who screwed up spectacularly."
She smiled slightly. "Direct. I can work with that. Sit."
I sat across from her, maintaining my shields. She noticed immediately.
"Those shields are a mess," she said critically. "Crude, inefficient, full of gaps. How you've survived this long is beyond me."
"They've worked so far."
"Barely. Against me, against other trained telepaths, you've been lucky. Against someone who knows what they're doing, you'd be crushed." She leaned forward. "Let me see your shield structure. Drop them just enough for me to examine."
"So you can attack?"
"If I wanted to attack, I'd have done it through the gaps already." She gestured to the monitoring equipment. "Besides, we're being watched. I try anything, they shut down my powers with those dampeners. I'm being cooperative, Cole. Accept it."
Reluctantly, I lowered my shields slightly. Her presence touched mine, clinical and professional.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "You've built your shields through instinct and borrowed technique. Some from me, some from Xavier, bits and pieces from others. It's like a patchwork quilt—functional but inefficient."
"Can you fix it?"
"I can teach you to rebuild them properly. But first, you need to understand what shields actually are." She pulled back. "Most people think psychic shields are walls. They're not. They're filters. You need to let some thoughts in and out—communication, sensory processing, basic cognition. Block everything, and you're essentially comatose."
"I know that."
"Do you? Because your shields try to block everything, which forces you to constantly maintain them with active willpower. That's exhausting and inefficient." She stood, moving to a holographic display. "Real shields are elegant. They filter automatically, letting safe thoughts through while blocking intrusions. Like a immune system for your mind."
She pulled up a three-dimensional model of a properly constructed psychic shield. It was beautiful—layered, sophisticated, with pathways and filters I'd never considered.
"This is what you should have," she said. "Not a wall. A fortress with selective permeability."
"How do I build that?"
"We start from scratch. Tear down your existing shields and rebuild them properly. It will leave you vulnerable during the process, which is why we're in a controlled environment."
The idea of being completely unshielded around Emma made my skin crawl. But she was right—my shields were inefficient. I was constantly maintaining them with active effort, which drained energy I could use elsewhere.
"Alright," I said. "Show me."
Over the next week, Emma systematically destroyed and rebuilt my psychic defenses.
It was brutal. She would attack me in controlled ways—probing for weaknesses, exploiting gaps, teaching me through painful experience where my shields failed. Then she'd show me how to fix those failures, how to construct better defenses.
"Your problem is that you rely too much on raw power," she explained during one session. "You try to overwhelm attackers with force. That works against weaker telepaths, but against someone skilled, it just wastes energy."
"What should I do instead?"
"Misdirection. Traps. Make them think they're getting through when actually, they're walking into prepared ambushes." She demonstrated, creating a mental construct that looked like a weakness in her shields. "See? You'd naturally probe that opening. But do it…"
I tried, and suddenly found myself in a psychic trap—my consciousness caught in a feedback loop that would have left me stunned in a real fight.
"…and you're caught," she finished, releasing me. "That's finesse, Cole. That's what separates trained telepaths from powerful amateurs."
We worked on offensive techniques too. She taught me how to target specific neural pathways instead of overwhelming entire minds. How to create psychic constructs that could operate independently. How to hide my presence when scanning large areas.
"You're a blunt instrument," she said. "We're turning you into a scalpel."
By the second week, I was noticing improvements. My shields required less conscious maintenance. My attacks were more precise and effective. I could sustain multiple telepathic operations simultaneously without the crushing mental fatigue I'd experienced before.
"Better," Emma admitted during one session. "You're finally starting to think like a trained telepath instead of a gifted savage."
"Was that almost a compliment?"
"Don't let it go to your head. You're still centuries behind me in experience."
"But I'm catching up."
She smiled slightly. "Yes. You are. Which is either humanity's salvation or its doom, depending on how you use this power."
While I worked with Emma, my team underwent their own transformation.
SHIELD had assigned them to "Project Enhancement"—a intensive program designed to push enhanced individuals to their absolute limits.
**Felicia's Training:**
She worked with Black Widow directly, learning advanced espionage techniques and combat methods that went beyond simple thievery.
"You're good at sneaking and stealing," Natasha told her. "But you're sloppy in sustained combat. Let's fix that."
Over six weeks, Felicia learned how to fight like a true spy—multiple martial arts integrated seamlessly, weapons training with everything from pistols to garrotes, tactical analysis that turned every environment into an advantage.
She also trained with Tony Stark on advanced technology integration, upgrading her suit with improved stealth systems, enhanced weapons, and hacking capabilities that made her previous gear look primitive.
**Maya's Training:**
She was paired with both Hawkeye and Daredevil (who SHIELD had apparently convinced to help).
"Your photographic reflexes are incredible," Hawkeye said. "But you're only copying what you see. Let's expand that."
They taught her to predict movements before they happened, to read opponents so well that she could counter attacks before they were fully executed. Combined with her existing skills, she became something approaching precognitive in combat.
Daredevil worked with her on sensory enhancement—teaching her to fight in complete darkness, to use sound and vibration as well as sight.
**Jessica's Training:**
As a SHIELD agent, she already had extensive training. But they pushed her further, working with both Captain America and Spider-Man to refine her combat style.
"You have enhanced strength and agility," Cap told her. "But you fight like you're trying to prove something. Be efficient, not flashy."
They taught her economy of motion, how to end fights quickly, how to use her powers strategically instead of relying on brute force.
**Elektra's Training:**
She needed less combat training and more tactical education. SHIELD assigned her to work with their strategic planning division, learning modern military tactics and how to integrate superhuman abilities into coordinated operations.
She also spent time with Doctor Strange (who visited at Fury's request), learning about mystical threats and how to defend against them. Her Hand training had given her some resistance to magic, but Strange refined it into legitimate mystical defense.
**Rogue's Training:**
Her training was the most intensive. With her control steadily improving, they focused on maximizing her absorption ability.
She worked with Xavier remotely, learning to hold multiple absorbed powers simultaneously and switch between them smoothly. She trained with various enhanced individuals, absorbing their abilities for practice—Storm's weather manipulation, Colossus's armored form, even brief touches with Wolverine's healing factor.
By the end of six weeks, she could absorb and hold up to four different power sets simultaneously for extended periods—a dramatic improvement.
The fifth week of training, something unexpected happened.
I was working with Emma on reality manipulation—the strange power I'd used against the Dominator Commander and the Atlantean core. She'd been fascinated by it from the moment she'd learned about it.
"This isn't telepathy," she said, examining the mental patterns I created when using the ability. "This is something else entirely. You're not just affecting minds—you're affecting the fundamental structure of reality through consciousness."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're not just a telepath, Cole. You're something more. Something that shouldn't exist according to this universe's rules." She pulled up readings from my reality manipulation attempts. "These energy signatures are similar to what we see from reality warpers like Scarlet Witch or Franklin Richards. But different. Yours seems to operate through pure consciousness rather than mutation or cosmic power."
"Is that because I'm from outside this reality?"
"Possibly. Your extra-dimensional origin might give you… flexibility with this universe's laws. You're not bound by them the same way native beings are." She looked at me seriously. "Cole, if you can learn to control this ability, you could become one of the most powerful beings on Earth. Not through raw telepathic force, but through reality manipulation itself."
"Can you teach me that?"
"No. That's beyond my expertise. But I know someone who can—Doctor Strange. He manipulates reality through mysticism. You do it through consciousness. Different methods, same result. You need to work with him."
"After these six weeks?"
"As soon as possible. This power is too dangerous to leave undeveloped. You could accidentally unravel reality if you're not careful."
That night, I reported the conversation to Fury.
"Reality manipulation," he said, clearly troubled. "That's above my pay grade, Cole. I'll reach out to Strange, see if he's willing to take you on."
"And if he's not?"
"Then we hope you don't accidentally destroy the planet while figuring it out yourself."
The last week of training focused on integration—taking everything we'd learned and putting it together.
For my team, this meant coordinated exercises against increasingly difficult opponents. SHIELD threw everything at them: simulated alien invasions, enhanced criminals, even a controlled session against Thor (who pulled his punches but still made his point about power levels).
They evolved from a good team to an exceptional one. Their coordination was seamless, with each member covering others' weaknesses and maximizing their strengths.
For me, the final week was about consolidation. Emma had rebuilt my telepathic abilities from the ground up. Now I needed to make them instinctive.
We spent hours in sparring sessions—psychic combat where she would attack and I would defend, then reverse roles. She was still stronger, still more experienced. But the gap had narrowed considerably.
"You'll never beat me in a straight telepathic fight," she admitted during our last session. "I have too much experience. But you're now strong enough to hold your own against most threats. And your reality manipulation… if you master that, you won't need to beat me telepathically. You'll just make it impossible for me to affect you."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an acknowledgment of reality. You're dangerous now, Cole. Properly dangerous. Use that power wisely, or you'll become everything I almost became—convinced that your power gives you the right to rule others."
"I won't."
"Famous last words." She stood. "This is where we part ways, Cole. I've taught you everything I can in six weeks. The rest is up to you."
"Thank you," I said. "For everything. For teaching me, for not trying to manipulate me."
"Don't thank me yet. Teaching you may have been the worst mistake I ever made. Time will tell." She moved toward the door, then paused. "But for what it's worth… I hope you prove me wrong. I hope you use this power to protect people instead of control them. Because if you do, you might actually save this foolish world."
Then she was gone, escorted back to her cell.
The six weeks ended with a final evaluation.
Fury had arranged a test—a simulated mission with real stakes. We had to infiltrate a fortified position, neutralize enhanced opposition, and extract a high-value target. Failure meant starting the training over.
The opposition was no joke: SHIELD's best tactical team, enhanced soldiers with training similar to the Dominators, multiple fail-safes and countermeasures.
We destroyed them.
Felicia infiltrated their security with such skill that they didn't know she'd been there until too late. Maya countered their enhanced soldiers with apparent ease, her photographic reflexes and training making her untouchable. Jessica's strategic thinking and combat prowess tore through their defensive positions. Elektra coordinated everything with military precision. Rogue absorbed and deployed multiple power sets seamlessly, becoming whatever the situation required.
And I? I used my refined telepathy to coordinate everything, to predict enemy movements, to create psychic misdirection that made their entire defense collapse.
We completed the mission in twelve minutes. The previous record was forty-seven.
"Well," Fury said, reviewing the footage. "I'd say the training was effective."
"We're ready," I said confidently.
"You better be. Because I've got a new mission for you, and it's a big one." He pulled up classified files. "Ever heard of Madripoor?"
That evening, we celebrated at the base.
Six weeks of brutal training had transformed us. We moved differently now—more confident, more capable. We were ready for whatever came next.
"So what's in Madripoor?" Felicia asked, pouring drinks.
"Fury didn't specify. But knowing Madripoor, probably nothing good." I raised my glass. "To six weeks of hell and coming out stronger."
"To evolution," everyone echoed.
As we drank, I felt the changes in myself. My telepathy was razor-sharp now, efficient and powerful. Emma had been right—I'd been a blunt instrument. Now I was a precision tool.
But I also felt the reality manipulation lurking beneath, that strange power that didn't follow normal rules. Strange had agreed to teach me, but that training would wait until after the Madripoor mission.
For now, we were stronger than we'd ever been.
And just in time, too. Because the universe had a way of escalating threats right when you thought you were ready.
But this time, we'd be ready right back.