X-Men!
"Aiden? I'm back, why haven't you come down?" Nicole's voice came through the earpiece. It took some time to return to the clock tower, and upon her arrival, Nicole found Aiden absent and grew concerned.
The darkening skies also struck Nicole as odd. Moments ago, it was clear; now, storm clouds gathered, and fierce winds uprooted street trees, sending debris flying.
"Aiden?" With no response in her earpiece, Nicole stepped out of the car and gazed at the towering clock tower, resigning herself to enter and ascend the daunting staircase.
Aiden, too, was grappling with a dilemma. It wasn't that he was ignoring Nicole; he had removed his earpiece during Darwin's final test and couldn't hear her inquiries.
The reason for Aiden's delay was the presence of a male and female duo. The man, tall and lean, stood about six feet three inches but wasn't bulky. He was Caucasian, with peculiar glasses tinted dark red, equipped with a side dial, making them appear more weapon than eyewear. His whole aura was commanding, exuding an air of authority.
To Aiden, those glasses were a weapon, for he recognized the man as none other than Cyclops, Scott Summers, one of the famed X-Men. His eyes could unleash formidable energy, necessitating the special ruby-quartz lenses to contain his raw power. When needed for combat, Cyclops could adjust the dial on his glasses to unleash his optic blasts.
The woman beside him, with her white hair and dark skin, was stunning in her attire. Like Cyclops, she radiated a powerful presence. She was Storm, Ororo Munroe, another prominent member of the X-Men. Her abilities were the stuff of mutant dreams: she could command the elements, fly, and her attacks were devastatingly potent, making her resemble a professional sorceress more than a mutant.
When Storm was upset and chose not to restrain her powers, the weather inevitably reflected her mood. New York, previously basked in sunlight, was now overshadowed by dark clouds and thunder, with rain starting to fall. It wouldn't be long before a downpour ensued.
The weather above New York wasn't just a rainy day; it was an ominous darkness. Even on a typical rainy day, daylight maintained visibility, but now, within minutes of their encounter, Storm's fury had turned the sky pitch black, plunging the city into an early night.
As Nicole ascended the towering staircase, the thunder grew louder, a rare and frightening natural event. Who could imagine that all this was due to a mutant's foul mood?
From this perspective, it was no wonder that mutants were despised and feared by ordinary people—some were simply too powerful to fathom.
Inside the clock tower, tension between Aiden and Cyclops was razor-thin, a battle ready to erupt.
"I warned you! It seems you have no intention of curbing your reckless ways," Cyclops stood protectively in front of Storm, his voice laced with condescension—a quality cultivated by his status and power over time.
"I've said it before, the world is vast, and I'd rather not cross paths with your kind," Aiden spoke calmly, his towering frame tensed, ready to spring into action, his dark eyes brooding under the comically designed hoodie featuring a bulldog with a gold chain.
"This is New York, not a place for you to run wild," Cyclops concluded after minutes of verbal sparring, certain the man before him was beyond reason.
"The last person who said that to me is dead," Aiden replied, emotionless as a black half-face mask floated out of his pack and affixed itself to his face. He had heard such claims before, and those gang leaders had all fallen to his gunfire.
Cyclops chuckled mockingly, "So what are you doing? Hunting? Slaughtering? Apart from creating chaos, do you think you're punishing criminals? And who gave you the right to take the law into your own hands?"
"The level of chaos reflects the level of attention. The future security here will be tight," replied Aiden, as guns assembled silently behind him, preparing for the impending battle. "By your logic, who granted you the right to administer justice? You seem eager to take the law into your own hands against me."
"You're a mutant! This is New York! Of course, I have the right!" Cyclops clenched his fist, his hand hovering over the dial on his glasses, "I hope you're as tough as your talk. Don't be begging for mercy later."
The clinking of firearms loading echoed behind Aiden, a rhythmic sound as an arsenal of guns floated at his back, aiming at the two before him.
Aiden's face twisted into an odd smirk, hidden behind the mask—if visible, it would have only added fuel to the fire.
I'm a mutant, this is New York, so everything should be up to you? Do you really think you're that important?
Suddenly, a mist of blue swirled in front of the two men, poised for conflict.
Aiden retreated swiftly, dual submachine guns in hand, his eyes narrowing.
From the mist came a deep sigh.
As the fog dissipated, a blue-skinned mutant appeared, pushing an elderly man in a wheelchair, materializing before Aiden.
Aiden remained expressionless, but inside, he was astounded—Professor X!
Quickly activating his interface, Aiden tossed all eight orbs into his psychic defense, upgrading it from zero to three in an instant. Six orbs were consumed, leaving two remaining, insufficient for another upgrade.
"Calm down, Scott," came a voice smooth as jade, its gentleness easing the tension, contrasting starkly with the dark skies above.
The rain intensified, winds howled, and lightning cleaved through the night, illuminating the wise eyes of Professor Charles Xavier.
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