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Six mutants waited around the round oak table. A holographic projector stood in the middle, casting faint, ghostly blue light across their faces.
Scott Summers—Cyclops—sat to Xavier's right with a straight posture. The leader of the X-Men kept glancing toward the empty doorway.
Opposite him, Hank McCoy—Beast—shifted his large blue frame for the third time in as many minutes, making the chair creak under his weight. He nudged his thick glasses up with a furry knuckle while his other hand rubbed thoughtfully at his chin.
"As I was saying," Hank spoke in a smooth, cultured voice, quite the opposite of his fangs and fur. "The combination of hormonal fluctuations, compounded by the psychological burden of telepathy, could quite reasonably culminate in heightened emotional volatility."
He paused when he noticed three sets of blank stares aimed in his direction. His ears twitched in mild embarrassment. "In simpler terms, Jean may be going through a difficult period common to many young women, except her isolation here and her telepathy magnify every feeling a hundredfold."
Warren Worthington III—Angel—lounged in his chair. His immaculate white wings folded tightly against the backrest to keep their span contained. "Hank, my friend, you really need to chill out with the scientific lecture notes."
From two seats down, Bobby Drake—Iceman—perked up with a cheeky grin and froze the glass of water before him. "Like this?"
Angel rolled his eyes. "I'm certain my tombstone will have 'Murdered by terrible puns' written on it."
"Hey, I'm trying to lighten the mood. You all look like someone died here."
"Gentlemen." Ororo Munroe—Storm—let her voice cut through their unproductive banter. The white-haired goddess slowly shifted her chair to address the man who had barely spoken.
At the head of the table, Charles Xavier rested his clasped hands lightly on his lap. "She seeks what our kind can't afford, Ororo… Freedom."
Ororo opened her mouth to press further, but the door creaked open.
Jean Grey stepped into the room, and every conversation stopped at once.
The confident twenty-year-old telepath now moved like she was walking on broken glass. Long, red hair hung in messy waves and her wrinkled dress carried coffee stains—both lacking their usual vibrance. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed in red, and her green irises were dulled as though she had been crying before coming here.
She settled into the empty chair without a word.
Bobby and Warren exchanged a quick look over the table, looking worried about their redhead friend.
Scott leaned towards the redhead mutant. "Jean, are you all right?"
"I am fine," Jean said, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry for the delay, everyone. Please begin."
Something in Jean's polite tone made Xavier flinch. Pain flickered across his face and vanished as he inclined his head. "This matter may be of considerable importance, as it has been... quite literally shaking our world."
He tapped the control pad, and the projector flared brighter. Above the center of the table, shaky phone footage of "Skullfire" began playing.
For the first time since she entered, a hint of emotion sparked in Jean's gaze.
Bobby noticed Jean's interest and let out a low whistle. "Okay, that skull actually looks cool. But I didn't peg you for the supernatural aesthetic, Jeannie."
Jean didn't even reply, continuing to watch the next footage.
"I have to agree that the visual presentation is striking," Warren added. "However, it is not exactly superhero material. He should schedule a style consultation with Ghost Spider."
Scott ignored them both and focused on Ororo. "Run the first footage again."
"Dude." Bobby groaned. "We've watched this five times already. I really, really don't want to see those tentacle monsters again. I'm gonna have nightmares for weeks."
"They are not monsters in the traditional sense," Hank interjected calmly. "They are alien parasites, more accurately described as symbiotic organisms that bond with human hosts, granting them enhanced physical capabilities."
"They are not evil." Jean locked eyes on Xavier across the table. "What if someone is using them, forcing them to act against their will?"
Scott frowned with eyes behind his visor. "Jean, do you know something about them through your telepathy?"
"No." Jean shut down the topic with one firm word.
The air in the room became tense. Bobby stopped freezing the cup of water. Warren's wings rustled uncomfortably. Hank scratched his cheek with his thick fingers. Scott's attention remained fixed on Jean, waiting for her. The leader of the X-Men understood Jean well enough to know she was holding bitterness or perhaps resentment.
Everyone noticed the slight tension between student and mentor, but nobody addressed it directly.
Ororo softly cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should share our assessment of this situation."
"Honestly? I like it." Bobby broke the ice, always the man to lighten the room. "Someone's actually out there protecting people. Makes my frosty little heart warm and fuzzy, you know? Like, finally, someone with non-mutant powers is doing hero activities."
"I should be there with him." Warren sat up straighter, wings extending slightly with unconscious yearning. "Fighting alongside—"
"SHIELD." The single word from Hank crushed his spark of ambition.
Warren's wings drooped. His handsome face looked miserable, depressed. "Right. Can't even fly outside the training grounds without Nick Fury sending another threatening memo."
"A non-mutant is doing what we're too afraid to do," Jean finally spoke, and brought hellfire with her words. "He's out there saving people. While we train every day for what?"
"Jean," Xavier spoke her name gently, but everyone knew it was meant to stop her. "Please."
She bit down on her lower lip but did not apologize or retract a single word. She just stared at the table with her fists clenched.
"Professor, Jean does raise a valid point." Ororo gestured toward a secondary screen that was populated with social media feeds. Several posts were highlighted such as: "Thank god someone's fighting those things" / "Finally a REAL hero" / "Who cares what he looks like?" / "Ghost Spider is great but Skullfire is on another level." / "I'm his fan already. I hope he keeps fighting those sick creatures."
"Public sentiment shifted in his favor when they saw Fifth Avenue street's destruction wasn't caused by Skullfire but by those two symbiotes."
"Of course they are grateful," Warren said. "Everyone needs to applaud someone stepping out to help. Someone needs to get him a designer, though."
"It represents progress." Ororo crossed her arms. "The more the general populace accepts superpowers as normalized rather than abnormal, the more likely they are to accept mutants."
"Watch them turn on him the second he fucks up," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "It's always like this."
Hank nodded gravely, adjusting his glasses. "In his position, there is no room for error. One small miscalculation could cause casualties among civilians or cost him his own life."
Scott moved his gaze away from Jean. "His actions were praiseworthy, but I don't think it was necessary. SHIELD has their own division for this sort of incident."
Jean looked at Scott, who was saying Skullfire shouldn't have fought two symbiotes. And she knew it was out of jealousy because she showed interest in Skullfire.
"Please be quiet, all of you."
Every eye turned to Jean as she surged to her feet and pointed a finger toward the holographic image of Skullfire. "That man doesn't have our gifts, training, or resources, but he is still fighting. What right do any of you have to sit here and pick apart his choices from the comfort of a safe room?"
"We're not hiding because we want to. Director Fury has made his stance clear in front of all of us," Scott answered, rising to face her as well. "Jean, talk to us about what happened."
"Nothing happened. I'm tired of sitting here. I want to fight. We need to fight back against SHIELD."
"Violence is not the answer."
Jean's hand curled into a tight fist. "Sometimes the only way to bring down a wall is to strike it with a hammer."
"X-Men."
Xavier's intervention put an end to the argument. He shut off the hologram device and assumed a serious expression. "Director Fury is not a genocidal maniac. He does not want to commit atrocities, but he will if we provide sufficient justification."
"Why?" Jean asked in a rough voice. "We have two Omega-level telepaths—you and Emma Frost. Miss Munroe is one of the most powerful mutants. Between the three of you, who could possibly stop us? What terrifies you so much?"
"It's not enough. Even a hundred telepaths like me won't stand a chance against that machine."
Jean's eyes widened in surprise, then a look of suspicion crossed her face.
Bobby sat up straight. "Professor, are we still talking about that mutant girl, X-23?"
"X-23 is a contingency against lower to mid-level threats," Xavier patiently explained. "The real threat we face from SHIELD is their anti-mutant weapon, which can adapt to any mutant power. I have gathered you here today so you understand the stakes clearly and do not attempt anything reckless out of misplaced heroism."
"Then what is our plan?!" Jean asked—demanded to know. "Watch the world burn while we hide here?!"
"Erik is searching for a solution. Even Selene is assisting in finding a way to neutralize this threat. All known mutant factions have ceased fighting while that anti-mutant weapon exists."
Jean closed her eyes. "I'm asking what are the X-Men doing besides waiting for someone else to fix everything?"
"Creating a safe haven for mutants who have nowhere else to go," Xavier replied with simple, heartbreaking honesty. "Training young mutants to control abilities. Preparing the next generation for the day when that weapon is destroyed once and for all."
Jean's hands helplessly dropped to her sides as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes, though whether from rage or despair remained unclear. "I should've joined the Hellmoon Club with Emma."
Those words came from her heart, and it left Xavier with a pained expression, as if his heart had been stabbed.
Jean turned around. Before she took a step, Scott reached out and caught her hand.
"Jean, please wait."
Jean peeled his fingers from her wrist without looking at him and walked out.
Ororo pushed back her chair and rose. "I'll speak with her, Professor."
***
Jean's POV
Jean Grey sat with her back against the massive oak tree that had been around longer than the mansion itself. The sun cast orange rays over her head, preparing to bid its farewell for the day.
Fallen leaves skittered across the grass in restless little spirals, only to gather around her legs. She had wanted to use telepathy, and later unsealed telekinesis, for good, only to discover that mutants were not even allowed to use their powers.
"What happened, child?" Ororo's voice drifted across the quiet lawn, soft but clear.
Jean did not have to look to know it was her. The air always changed subtly when Ororo approached, as if nature itself followed her. Ororo lowered herself onto the grass beside Jean. "You are not usually like this. Not this… brittle."
Jean kept her eyes fixed on the horizon. "Even a soap bubble holds perfectly until the world reaches out to burst it… I didn't know people could be so cruel and evil."
A warm, steady hand settled on her shoulder. "I know something happened between you and the Professor. You can speak to me about anything. You know I will listen."
Jean turned her head slowly, looking in Ororo's calm but patient eyes. The mutant, who was worshipped as a goddess, had been supporting the X-Men ever since she arrived a year ago.
"You know I go out jogging every day."
"Yes, you said it keeps your mind clear," Ororo replied with a small nod. "and your body in shape."
"Yesterday, I went out at the usual time, around five. I followed my normal route through the woods near the road." Her hands curled in the grass at her sides. "And then the psychic screams reached me."
"There were symbiotes in a truck. I accidentally linked to them…" She clutched her head, as if reliving her worst nightmares. "There was only pain and misery… torture from birth… even more torture when they bond with humans."
Ororo quietly patted her back, offering support through action and patience.
"Norman fucking Osborn is using them. He is torturing so many people and symbiotes in his lab." Jean gritted her teeth, a vicious, murderous look in her eyes. "I wish I could strangle him with my bare hands. A man like him should burn in hell forever. He is filth. Pure garbage."
Ororo went very still for a moment, considering the implications. "What else did you learn from them?"
"He has thousands of symbiotes under his control. When they're released into the world, it will be a massacre." She looked back at the mansion, which was bathed in glowing warm—a safe haven for mutants. "But we'll be safe and healthy, living our best lives in our little protected bubble. Who the hell cares about innocent people dying, right?"
She lay back on the grass, folding her hands behind her head, as if she had given up.
"We have to tell the Professor."
"I already did. He said there's nothing we can do." Jean closed her eyes, only to see visions of the research facility where hundreds of people were being tortured at this very moment. "Professor may be right, but I can't take this, Ororo… these memories are eating me alive."
"I'm sorry, Jean. We've failed you," Ororo apologized before sighing. "We wouldn't be forced to be so passive if it wasn't for SHIELD."
"Why is SHIELD doing this?"
"I don't know their hearts. If I must guess, it's fear. The fear of calamities an unrestrained mutant can cause."
Jean plucked a blade of grass and rolled it between her fingers, then clenched it between her teeth. "Such a stupid reason."
A few minutes passed in silence beneath the oak tree. A cold wind swept across the academy grounds, then, suddenly it became warm and comfortable. Ororo influenced the weather with her mutant powers, the same ability that earned her the moniker of "The Weather Goddess" in local tribes of Kenya.
Jean had barely slept last night, so the comfortable warmth pulled her into sleep—only for her to wake up as if she had been through her worst nightmare.
Clutching her chest, she let out ragged breaths.
Ororo pulled Jean in her arms. "It's all right. I'm here with you."
"I can't… They are cursing me, Ororo. They're blaming me." Jean covered her face. "It's all my fault."
"You know it isn't. Your hands are tied."
Jean pushed Ororo away and wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve until the corner of her eyes became red from rubbing.
When she looked at Ororo, there was no hopelessness to be found on her face anymore. "I have made up my mind."
Ororo sighed softly, already certain about Jean's decision. "You'll get in trouble."
"I know, but I'm still going to find Skullfire." Jean said. "He deserves to know what he's up against."
"No." Storm's voice was commanding that Jean rarely heard from their second leader. The wind snapped at her hair and clothes, whipping white strands around her face. "Your powers are still unstable. Any mistake will put you on SHIELD's radar."
"Did you see me lose control once today? Besides, I'll deliver the information and help out with other things. I can be of some use without directly contributing to the fight."
"Jean, it's still reckless."
"That might be so, but I am Jean Grey, Ororo. I will choose who I become." Jean met Ororo's gaze head-on with a wild grin. "And I choose to be a… hero."
For a long moment, Ororo simply looked at her. The wind around them spun leaves into spirals, mirroring her troubled mind. Then, slowly, she exhaled, and everything calmed down. "Then you will at least not go alone. I will accompany you."
Jean's expression softened. "Ororo…"
"Sometimes it's better to let a river flow than build a dam to stop it," Storm said with a faint smile before lifting her gaze to the glittering stars in the dark sky. "Like you, I also want to help others."
Jean took Ororo's hand. "You should've been our leader. Scott doesn't understand others as much as you."
"There is no point to the position until we're freed from SHIELD's oppression."
"True!" Jean nodded. "So how do we go about it? We can't just wait for his next appearance."
"Hmm, we should visit Emma Frost. Her network is stretched across nations."
"Yeah, Emma. I guarantee you she's already investigating Skullfire."
Ororo caressed her hair. "Have dinner and rest. We will leave tomorrow morning."
Jean ran her hand through her messy hair. "Got it. I'm going to shower first."
***
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