1 Turns Out I'm A Mutant. Huh.

And here I was worrying about how my life in this world would turn out. All too worried about the 'how' and the 'why' that I was quickly thinking myself into a corner.

I wasn't a super genius. I was clever and quite witty, if I do say so myself, but I wasn't the type to make an advanced exoskeleton or a super soldier serum that would grant me powers beyond the average human. My advantage of being conscious from the first day of my birth and being able to put 100% of my effort into living a good and successful life had only helped me so much, honestly.

Sure, I was considered extremely bright for my age. Hell, I was doing college-level courses right now and I'm in my freshman year in Highschool. But there was only so much I could do - intelligence isn't as easy as just looking at books all day and you'll suddenly become immensely intelligent and able to do whatever you want.

The human brain doesn't work like that. Your environment and your efforts have an affect on your intelligence, but so does your genetics. You can work as hard as you want but you won't suddenly match up against a super-genius.

For all intents and purposes, they're just built differently.

Us normal people, however, can only ever achieve so much. And I'm okay with that - or at least, I was okay with it until I saw some pretty shocking stuff on the TV.

Okay, I should probably fill you in on what I'm worrying about, right? Right. So, I'm a reincarnator. I died (at the age of 17) and next thing I know, I was reborn and being held in a pretty lady's arms. I've read a lot of fanfics, so I was more ready and accepting of my new situation than other people - which is to say I only freaked out and cried my new little lungs out for about an hour or two. Or a day. A week at most, really.

But after that, I was pretty fine, actually. Felt like I'd been given a second chance at life and this time without any health problems to worry about - in fact, my body was exceptionally healthy. My heart was described, and I'm quoting this from the multiple doctors who checked it out, to "Beat like a machine; incessantly and without struggle". Weird thing to say to a four-year-old but whatever.

I was also admittedly very athletically talented. Around the age of five, I actually took up kickboxing - in my last life I was bedridden for most of my life and I'd always wanted to learn how to fight. Watching anime will do that to you, I guess. But who asked Rock Lee and Might Guy to be so awesome? I blame my incessant obsession with learning how to fight on them.

...Turns out I was pretty talented. Picked up the basics within a month, began getting more advanced lessons and by the time I was eleven, I was able to beat the snot out of guys and girls who were waaay older than me. I went on to practice multiple other martial arts.

Karate, Muay Thai, Judo/Jujitsu, Sambo--All sorts of stuff. Got pretty good at all of it too.

The doctors said something about my reaction speed, muscle density and bone density being exceptionally high. Still, that was only for a human.

And on my twelfth birthday, I found out being 'just' human wouldn't be enough.

I didn't watch much TV or pay attention to much news. I knew I was back in time - I was born in 1990 on the 5th of May. But on that one day I decided to watch the news...and it changed my entire viewpoint on this new life I was given. I saw Tony Stark talking about a new weapons project to a reporter. Not someone who looks like Tony Stark or just someone who happens to have the name 'Tony Stark' or even a cosplayer who was pulling a prank on live television...no, it was Tony Stark.

I went through newspapers, history books, news reels from years and years ago--and I realized how much I'd been deluding myself. This wasn't MY Earth. And deep down I think I always knew that. Because they taught us about WW2 in history and I just seemed to...ignore, the fact that Captain America was mentioned.

And I don't know why I did that.

But I couldn't delude myself anymore. Instead, I began to worry myself nearly to death.

I was definitely in the MCU or at least a version of it. I saw certain photos of Magneto and Mystique that I recognized from the X-Men movies that took place in the past. Which meant I was possibly even more screwed.

Not just Abomination or the Kree, the Skrulls, or even the multiple magical-based the Ancient One would have to deal with but I also have the possibility of running into Apocalypse, Magneto and an assortment of other such mutants who are incredibly powerful?

I won't lie, I had a bit of a breakdown. Threw myself into exercise and study. Took up more and more fighting classes - not because I liked them and wanted to take them but because I felt like I had to. I was constantly reminded of how I was going to die if I stayed normal. I was utterly terrified of the possibility that I was completely normal because it would mean I'd have to live in a world of superhumans and aliens and gods without any way to protect myself.

Funnily enough, I'd actually say it was that emotional breakdown and stress that caused me to get what I wanted more than anything.

I awoke as a Mutant last night, at the age of 16.

Suddenly, I felt...connected, to every shadow in my room. To every little inkling of darkness throughout my entire house and neighbourhood. I felt strong. Like my veins ran with pure strength instead of blood. And then there were the urges - nothing bad but the urge to summon...something, was there at the back of my head, tingling up and down my spine.

And that's when I discovered what type of power I had. I summoned what it wanted me to summon and I was covered in an armor that was as black as the night sky outside my window but minus the stars. Minus any light at all. It was an unreflective, matte black. Underneath the armor, in places, was a gold layer which was just as unreflective as the matte black layer. The entire armor was skin tight and showed off the years of exercise I'd undergone and the perfect musculature I'd gained through it.

How did this show me what power I had? Because the next second I summoned something else. A tendril, of sorts, with a piranha-like head at the end of it, a mouth filled with fangs and dripping with an acidic substance that melted through the floor of my room.

My power was The Darkness. I could instinctively feel it. But I could also instinctively feel that I was drawing my power from somewhere, not from someone. The Darkness, the entity itself, wasn't in my mind and neither did it gift me these powers. I was pulling on a source of energy from what felt like a gateway in my heart.

Unlike hosts of The Darkness that I'd read about, I seemed to have a degree of superhuman physicality even without the armor. The armor just dialled it to eleven and beyond.

I banished the piranha headed tendril, banished the armor into nothingness and sat down on my bed. That's where I am right now. Unsure of my power and what it meant about me. I knew The Darkness didn't exist...but what if me having this power says more about me than I've ever wanted to speak? The Darkness is chaos. When God first made light, The Darkness responded by making bitterness and spite a thing. It resented the light. Something which is usually synonymous with 'Good' or 'Justice'.

...If I was hooked up to a realm that was similar to The Darkness, what did that say about me? I remember in my first life that I was bitter. I was envious. I watched children live fulfilling lives and all I could do was watch them from a hospital window. I was spiteful.

No matter what people say, a power doesn't make you. You can be a Demon and yet you can be good, and you can be an Angel and yet you can be evil. And sometimes, there's no black or white. There are just varying shades of grey.

But The Darkness...from what I remember and know, it wasn't a shade of grey. The Darkness was very much so the darkest shade of black there was. It's kinda in the name.

It just made me think, what if I end up giving into this power? I'm not like Superman, or Captain America, or Batman--or any of those heroes. They can withstand the temptation of power. Superman could've ruled Earth with an iron fist and not many, if any at all, could stop him from doing so. Captain America didn't need to work for the Allied Forces. If he wanted to escape, he could've. Batman didn't need to follow his rules of not killing, especially when he saw it wasn't working with his arch-nemesis the Joker.

Why? Why is it that they could stay true to their ideals and prevail over their temptation? Because they were good people with iron-wills. But also because they were comic book characters. No matter how much you tempt them, it's the writer's decision in the end on whether or not they'd be tempted. In the end, heroes are, in a way, a show of so-called control. An illusion. A writer can make a character do whatever they want, regardless of the realism of what that choice would actually force on that character.

Where am I going with this? I'm not a comic book character. I have feelings, aspirations, desires...and I can surely be tempted. Even now I'm tempted to use my new power to break into a bank to gain money or to go and rob some mobsters for everything they have.

And I could. Easily. I just instinctively know I could.

I sighed, dragging a hand over my face as I felt the connection I had to The Darkness urge me on to do chaotic and destructive things. Standing up, I walked over to my desk and picked up a post-it note. Sitting at my desk, I picked up a pen and wrote down a message to myself before sticking it to the wall my desk was up against and in front of my face.

[Don't fall to the temptation.]

I put that there as a reminder. I don't think I'm a hero...but I'd like to try to be one. I don't want people to fear me or run away at the sight of me. I want to help people, I guess. Part of me - a good, decent part of me - wanted powers to help myself and others in the first place anyway.

I wasn't perfect, and I'd no doubt use my powers for my own selfish good at some point. But I'd at least try my best to do good with the powers I had right now.

Because God knows I could do a whole lot of bad if I fell to the temptation of The Darkness.

. . .

POV Change - Charles Xavier

Charles was having a rough night. First, he was struggling on what to do for a specific mutant - one Anna Marie, also known as Rogue.

Her power was both as fascinating as it was terrifying and while Charles held no fear for the child, he couldn't in good conscience let her out into the open world. The family of the boyfriend she'd put into a coma were still coming after her head and who else knows who'd come after her if she was allowed out into the world and caused another accident.

'This reminds me far too much of Jean,' the Professor ashamedly thought, dragging a hand across his eyes and rubbing at the soreness prevalent in them from the lack of sleep. What he'd done to one of his first students was most likely one of the biggest mistakes Charles' had ever made.

But alas, he was younger and cockier. He thought he knew best and by now, the lie had been going on for so long that he couldn't hope to bring it up without fracturing the teams trust in him.

It was selfish of him and he knew it. But that didn't stop him from trying to look for new ways to help Jean and he was beginning to think he was onto something*.

(*A/N - I really do think it's a bit out of character that Charles didn't try and right his own wrong. And while this doesn't excuse what he did, it is my version of a redemption arc for a person who I feel is always bashed to high hell in every marvel fanfic he appears in. This Charles is more like the movie version than the comic book version and he has a lot more experience and self-awareness than he does in either verse.)

But the true reason for why he'd awoke so early in the morning was an entirely different thing. Thinking of Rogue's problem were simply the mental musings of an old man who was sick and tired of not being able to help his students. No, what he was doing right now was making his way down to Cerebro.

He'd had a horrible dream. Lately his mutant ability had been...developing in certain ways. Charles suspected that such prolonged usage of Cerebro had begun to develop his mind in a certain direction. Rather than just being a telepath, it felt more like Charles was becoming a radar.

A radar specifically for mutants.

Now, it wasn't as effective as Cerebro - which is why he was making way to that specific place this early in the morning - but it did give him an early warning system in the forms of dreams.

He'd at first thought the dreams the products of stress but Charles knew better now after one of his dreams had been the reason they discovered Rogue and a young budding telepath by the name of Emma Frost.

But the dreams for those two were...nothing, in comparison to what Charles had just experienced.

Darkness. An infinite amount of darkness that snuffed out every bit of life and light, and shredded it to nothingness, returning the realm to a peaceful darkness that seemed more like a sea than a room of shadows. And Charles would never forget the pressure for as long as he lived. The mind-crushing pressure of a sea of darkness, pressing down on him and crushing his entire body. Not out of malicious intent. No, that was just how strong the sea of darkness was.

Just being in it was enough to crush most people.

The sea wasn't malicious, so to speak, just chaotic. Yet in it's chaos was a peaceful feeling. Like everything was as it should be...and it felt like it wanted everything else to be like it too. Which would have dire consequences for the world if the power's owner had the same thoughts.

And so, Charles was making his way toward Cerebro. As he approached the door to Cerebro, Charles heard a gruff voice behind him, "What's got you up so early, Chuck?"

Charles would ordinarily smile at the pet name given to him by a good friend of his, but right now, the oppressive feeling of the darkness lingered in his mind and took away any mirth he could feel. Charles looked over his shoulder and at the man walking up behind him and smoking a cigar.

He was shorter than average but more than made up for it in muscle mass, having an extremely well-built and defined musculature. Broad shoulders, pronounced knuckles, extremely muscled forearms--just looking at him, you could feel he was someone you shouldn't mess with.

"Logan," Charles nodded before turning back to Cerebro's facial and ocular scanner, letting it do it's assigned function of scanning his face and irises, "I fear a new and very powerful mutant has awaken their power and I wish to find out where they are and the approximate power they have," he stopped for a second before looking over his shoulder and at Logan, "I think it would be wise if you came and saw for yourself. We may need to send a team over if things are as bad as I think."

Logan puffed out some smoke, smirking despite the serious expression on Charles' face, showcasing his sharper than normal canine teeth, "Have one of those hocus pocus dreams again, huh?" he asked before taking another drag and following after the professor as the doors to Cerebro opened, shrugging as he did so, "Sure, I'll come along and hold your hand if you're so scared, Chuck," he gave a hoarse and low chuckle as he said this.

Charles knew Logan didn't mean anything by his jokes and jeers and that's just how he was but he'd wish the man could at least understand the severity of the situation and not joke around as much as he was.

...Then again, he hadn't experienced that dream. He hadn't felt that darkness.

Rather than say that, Charles just stayed quiet and his electric wheelchair rolled it's way into the chamber, along the catwalk and to the panel that controlled and connected Charles to Cerebro.

Placing the helmet that connected him to the amplifying tool, Charles took a deep breath before turning the machine on. The panels of metal faded and showed a space of darkness that slowly morphed into masses and masses of people. Some were blue and others were red - the red were vastly outnumbered but they glowed with a much brighter intensity. It didn't take long for Charles to find what he was looking for in Cerebro.

A certain figure instantly drew his attention. A young man, seemingly around 16 or 17 was sitting at his desk and try as he might to get into the teenagers mind, Charles couldn't. He wanted to do a quick run over on what the young man was like but his mind's defences were just...impregnable.

No, that wasn't right. It was more like the young man's mind was impossibly vast and thick. To get into a normal person's mind, you had to peel back the outer layer and make yourself a door into their mind. But no matter how much Charles peeled back, there was always another layer. In the end, Charles settled for watching the young man's actions.

He was writing on a post-it note and though getting into the teenager's mind seemed impossible, looking through his senses was less so. What Charles saw him both put him at ease and unnerved him.

[Don't fall to the temptation.]

It showed that the young man was good at heart. A decent, morally-upstanding person. But he was also feeling the effects of whatever was tempting him - his power, Charles thought was the most likely thing to be doing so. Charles understood where the young man was coming from. Having the ability to control minds was an ability filled with temptation and without proper control and restraint could lead down a very dark path.

But what worried Charles the most was the power of the mutant's ability. It was like looking at...Charles stopped himself before he shut down Cerebro. He had the young man's location and he was more than convinced that the young man would need his and the teams help fighting off whatever temptation was plaguing him.

Turning to Logan, he looked up at the short man with a grim countenance, "Get Ororo and Hank, and then get ready yourself. We need to head to Los Angeles."

"Is it really that serious, bub?" Logan quirked an eyebrow up at his friend and the bald man nodded in return, his grim appearance becoming even more severe as he did so, the possibilities finally dawning in his head.

"Yes," he admitted, "I've only ever seen someone as strong as this once before. Jean," he said finished, meeting Logan's eyes as the seriousness of the situation finally sunk into the gruff man's mind. Putting out his cigar with a pinch of his fingers and pocketing it in his breast pocket, Logan gave a nod to Charles before walking out of Cerebro and toward the places where the needed members would be.

Charles could only hope he could arrive before whatever was tempting the young man won. Because he knew whatever would happen next would be a dire situation for the world.

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