Spider-Man, Ororo Munroe, and King T'Challa in his Black Panther suit arrived at the sprawling grounds of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. To Peter's mild surprise, T'Challa—despite being the sovereign ruler of the most advanced nation on Earth—was fascinated by the mutant academy's infrastructure.
"The emergence of superpowered individuals is increasing not just in the United States, but globally, Spider-Man," T'Challa noted. He wore a gentle, unassuming smile, shedding the intimidating aura of a monarch for the inquisitive demeanor of an educator. "While Wakanda's population is relatively small, and we do not draw a harsh societal line between mutants and baseline humans, a dedicated facility for guiding and training young superhumans is an incredibly valuable concept for us to study."
The trio was in high spirits, largely riding the adrenaline from their last pre-Christmas outing.
Just a few hours prior, the entire Avengers roster had deployed to aggressively humble the Stilt-Man. To call it a "battle" would be a gross overstatement; it was practically a coordinated bullying session. You could hardly fathom the sheer, escalating terror Wilbur Day experienced while trying to rob a bank on hydraulic telescoping boots.
First, he was given a stern warning by a shrinking Wasp. Before he could even laugh off the tiny threat, Captain America and the Black Panther stepped out of the shadows. Terrified, Stilt-Man scrambled backward, only to bump directly into the Hulk, who was standing there with his massive arms crossed.
Panicking, the villain cranked his stilts to their maximum height and tried to sprint away—only to slam face-first into a sixty-foot-tall Gi-Ant-Man. He spun around, desperate, just as Thor and Iron Man dropped from the clouds. He lost his balance, plummeting toward the pavement, only for Spider-Man to casually catch him in a web net.
By the time the NYPD peeled him out of his suit and shoved him into the back of a cruiser, Wilbur Day was completely catatonic. Ironically, the heroes who had taken him down were left laughing hysterically on the sidewalk, looking and sounding distinctly like a pack of supervillains.
"Cyclops mentioned that the student body here is a fraction of what it used to be," Peter explained as they strolled up the long driveway toward the mansion. "Most of the mutant population has chosen to relocate and settle in Genosha."
"Magneto rules Genosha with an iron fist," T'Challa observed thoughtfully. "But to be entirely honest, he is a highly capable leader. It is the reason mutantkind has finally managed to rally together under one banner."
At the very least, the current citizens of Genosha weren't actively opposing Magneto's regime. As for Magneto's fundamental, paranoid belief that baseline humans would inevitably launch a war of extinction against mutants? That remained to be seen. The Avengers were doing everything in their power to prevent that exact scenario.
Furthermore, with President Matthew Ellis winning re-election, the aggressively anti-mutant factions within the government had lost their political foothold. For the next four years, at least, Washington was going to maintain a relatively pro-superhero, pro-mutant stance.
As the group chatted and approached the mansion's main gates, a sharp, arrogant voice suddenly shattered the calm.
"Halt!"
Blocking the path were five teenagers, all dressed in standard but distinctly customized X-Men training uniforms.
The boy leading the pack looked like a standard, albeit incredibly smug, prep-school kid. Flanking him was a hulking teenager who looked like a jagged, walking pile of granite, and a girl whose skin shimmered like liquid metal.
Rounding out the group was a girl completely draped in a black niqab and flowing robes, and a timid-looking boy lingering in the back, wearing thick gloves and avoiding eye contact.
"You are not welcome on these grounds, Avengers," the lead boy sneered, crossing his arms. "This is the Mutant Academy."
T'Challa raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by the blatant xenophobia from someone so young, while Storm's features instantly darkened into a frown of stern disapproval.
Peter blinked, his encyclopedic memory of the superhero community quickly connecting the dots. "Wait, you guys are the Hellions, right? The squad Ms. Emma Frost brought over from the Massachusetts Academy?"
It made perfect sense. This was the notorious rival squad that was constantly picking fights with the New Mutants. Upon hearing Emma Frost's name, Ororo's posture relaxed slightly. She knew the kids themselves weren't inherently malicious; they had just been molded by Emma's aggressively elitist teaching style.
Peter opened his mouth to defuse the situation. "Look, guys, Scott actually invited—"
T'Challa gently placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, cutting him off. The King offered a knowing, quiet smile. "Do not intervene, Spider-Man. Let Ororo teach these youngsters a lesson. It is good for them to know their place."
Storm stepped forward, her white hair catching the breeze. "Are you truly not going to step aside?" she asked, her voice carrying a dangerously calm warning.
Julian Keller—the Hellion—hesitated for a fraction of a second before doubling down. "What part of 'halt' did you not understand? Are you planning to force your way inside?"
"I'm sorry," Ororo replied, her eyes beginning to glow with a faint, white light. "But first of all, this is an absolutely atrocious way to treat guests."
As Ororo took another step forward, Julian shouted the command. "Rockslide! Stop them!"
The massive, jagged stone golem cracked his knuckles and charged forward, attempting to physically barricade the path.
Honestly, Peter thought to himself, watching the disaster unfold. If I had just been allowed to finish my sentence and name-drop Cyclops, they probably would have backed down.
"This is Ororo's home, Spider-Man," T'Challa whispered, watching his wife work. "Anyone would be irritated to return to their own house, only to be stopped at the door by children they do not recognize and treated like a hostile trespasser. And Ororo... is the Storm. She is not exactly known for a mild temper."
Peter knew exactly who these kids were. The giant was Rockslide (Santo Vaccarro)—a psychic entity who possessed an inorganic stone shell. Even if you blew him to pieces, he could just reassemble the rocks. The girl in the robes was Dust (Sooraya Qadir), a terrifyingly powerful mutant who could transform into a localized sandstorm. The metallic girl was Mercury (Cessily Kincaid).
The timid kid in the back was Wither (Kevin Ford), whose touch decayed organic matter—which explained the heavy gloves and his absolute refusal to engage.
And the arrogant leader was Hellion (Julian Keller). A phenomenally powerful, Omega-level telekinetic, though his actual telepathy and mind-control skills were virtually non-existent.
T'Challa smiled warmly as Storm simply walked through the gate.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but you can't—" Rockslide started, reaching out a massive stone hand.
Before he could finish the sentence, Ororo flicked her wrist. A concentrated, localized hurricane-force gale slammed into Rockslide's chest, launching the multi-ton teenager dozens of meters backward through the air. The wind instantly wrapped around him, pinning his heavy stone body upright against a large oak tree.
Julian's eyes went wide. "Attack the intruders!" he yelled.
Dust instantly dissolved her physical form, transforming into a blinding, scouring cloud of abrasive sand, while Mercury lunged forward, her arms shifting into liquid-metal blades.
Ororo didn't even break her stride. She waved her hand dismissively. A violent, perfectly controlled updraft caught the sandstorm, sweeping Dust high into the atmosphere and entirely out of the fight. A secondary burst of frigid, sub-zero air slammed into Mercury, instantly freezing her liquid-metal form solid mid-stride.
Wither took one look at the display and wisely took three steps backward, keeping his gloved hands firmly in his pockets.
Realizing his squad had been neutralized in under four seconds, Julian panicked. A shimmering green telekinetic shield flared to life around him as he prepared to launch a psychic assault.
Ororo simply commanded the air pressure around his ankles to drop to zero.
Julian's feet swept out from under him. He crashed hard onto his back, his telekinetic shield shattering as the wind unceremoniously pinned him face-first against the manicured lawn.
The courtyard fell dead silent, save for the gentle rustling of the leaves.
Ororo Munroe stopped walking. She looked down at the immobilized, thoroughly humbled Hellions squad. The glowing white light faded from her eyes.
"Your raw skills are adequate," Storm noted, offering them a warm but authoritative smile. "But your manners regarding hospitality need severe refinement, children. I am Ororo Munroe. And I am your future teacher."