First Encounter with Colossus

The Big Apple was in chaos, a turmoil so profound it captured the nation's attention.

In a modestly-sized bar, a man and a woman in casual attire sat across from each other, sipping their drinks. It would have been comical to an onlooker that while the woman's glass clearly contained alcohol, the man's held nothing more potent than orange juice.

Bars are typically noisy places, but tonight was an exception. The volume of the television had drawn the crowd's attention with its news broadcast.

"Today, another violent incident rocked Brooklyn, with an estimated sixteen casualties," the reporter's voice echoed. "This manner of violence has become all too familiar in New York City. Just fourteen days ago, a group of zealous bikers was the first to fall. Since then, various gangs have been targeted, suffering heavy losses."

"Speculation is rife that these may be excessive killings by rival gangs. Sources suggest the city's authorities believe a formidable new player has entered the fray, a new gang leader."

"My God, have you seen the carnage? It's like a living hell out there."

"Whoever these people are, I can guarantee they're a paramilitary group. Well-trained, experienced, and heavily armed, they're capable of destroying half the city, maybe even all of New York."

The bar fell silent as patrons watched the television, their drinks momentarily forgotten until the scene switched to a reporter interviewing locals. People resumed their whispered conversations. "I thought we were living in the 21st century, right? Why can't we see the culprits? Is all our surveillance just junk?"

"Heh, I think it's great. Those damned gang members had it coming. Whatever this new group is, I think I'm on their side," a young man snorted, downing his drink.

Perspectives varied—fear for some who saw the violence as a threat to their doorstep, and delight for others at society's bottom, long tormented by the gangs, who yearned for their demise.

"An army of two, huh?" Nicole tapped her glass against Aiden's orange juice. "Winter Soldier" wasn't just a moniker. Despite her recent recklessness, with Aiden cleaning up behind her, they had remained ghosts, even daring to relax and drink in public.

"It's all because I indulged you," Aiden, dressed in a cap and T-shirt, looked every bit the average young man.

"Hmph," Nicole snorted, her confidence rooted in her newfound power. The news broadcast detailing a week's worth of her "army's" accomplishments left her amused and proud. Were they actually being recognized as a force to be reckoned with?

"We'll deal with the Irish mob tomorrow," Aiden began, but stopped mid-sentence as a towering, gleaming figure approached their table. The bar, already quiet, fell silent as the newcomer entered.

Aiden looked up, his expression unchanging, but his heart skipped a beat. A familiar face.

A teacher from the mutant school, the metallic mutant known as Colossus, or Steel Colossus.

His towering frame, easily over seven feet tall, was encased in a substance like living steel, shimmering under the bar's lighting. Not only was he imposing, but his strength and resilience were formidable, a powerful combatant currently serving as a teacher. Behind him trailed a young girl, about 14 or 15, with a buzz cut, nose and ear piercings, embodying the "I smoke, I drink, I have tattoos, but I'm a good girl" vibe.

This girl was also a mutant, known as "Negasonic Teenage Warhead," a name that even the translators found perplexing. Aiden recalled that she possessed the ability to unleash tremendous energy, though the exact nature of her powers remained unclear to him.

"Do you mind?" Colossus asked, settling his massive frame into the seat, squeezing Aiden against the inside of the booth. The small table suddenly felt even more cramped.

"Do you mind?" the girl, mimicking her mentor, approached Nicole's side, clearly intending to squeeze in beside her.

But Nicole wasn't as accommodating as Aiden. She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, her formidable strength halting her movement. Nicole tilted her head, questioning, "Aren't you a bit young to be here? Did you force your way in?"

The girl, Negasonic, pouted, clearly annoyed and disdainful as she tried to shake off Nicole's grip.

Meanwhile, Aiden's mind raced with thoughts. There was no doubt; they were here for him. Otherwise, Colossus wouldn't have deliberately blocked his exit.

"You seem to be drawing too much attention in a society rife with mutant conflict," Aiden said, his words probing subtly.

"No, I'm a gentleman, a good guy. They don't despise me. Everyone I meet changes their perspective on mutants," Colossus replied in a thick Russian-accented English, a boisterous yet gentle contradiction.

"I don't like mutants, so I don't plan on sitting with you. Move," Aiden said, attempting to stand, only to be firmly pressed back into his seat by Colossus's steely hand.

"No, my friend, you shouldn't hate what you are. It's our gift," Colossus lectured, close to Aiden's ear. "Professor Xavier says everyone reacts differently to their gifts. No matter what powers we have, they're not initially called gifts. But once we understand and control them, they become our gifts, even our blessings."

Aiden showed no reaction, but internally he was certain—Colossus knew he was a mutant.

"Oh? You're that confident?" Nicole turned, her interest piqued as she looked at Colossus. Her hand now rested on Negasonic's head, who was comically struggling to free herself from Nicole's grasp.

"Of course. God gave us these gifts to help others, to make the world a better place, to become heroes, protectors, defenders," Colossus's muffled voice was distinctive but jarring. "Not for senseless killing."

That statement made Aiden and Nicole flinch. The world was searching for the "army" in New York City, and it seemed Colossus knew exactly who comprised it.

Had Professor Xavier discovered them? Was that why Colossus had been sent to find them?

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