"Child, can you allow us to see your ability?" Professor X requested with the same gentle smile.
Ethan stood silently for a moment, processing the request. Then, without a word, he glanced around before making his way to a steel plate embedded in the wall.
He pressed a single finger against it, and just like that, the metal caved in as easily as if it were wet clay.
Cyclops, standing behind Professor X, narrowed his eyes. "Super strength?" he muttered, frowning.
This wasn't quite what he expected from someone Professor X suspected to be an Omega-level mutant.
But before Cyclops could settle on that conclusion, the steel began to shift again.
Ethan's finger remained still, yet the metal warped, twisting into a vortex with his fingertip as the center.
"That's not just strength," Storm murmured, watching in fascination. "It's manipulation—like Magneto. He can control metal."
"No," Professor X corrected, his eyes gleaming with realization. "Not metal—It's energy."
No one in the world had more experience identifying mutant abilities than Charles Xavier, and with just a glance, he had already formed a theory.
Ethan turned back to them, his face unreadable. "I call it vector control," he explained. "I can manipulate force through my body—the direction of energy."
Hearing Professor X's name earlier had jogged his memory, and with recognition came a measure of relief.
Some of the hostility he had felt toward the man eased—otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered demonstrating his ability at all.
Professor X studied Ethan, his expression calm yet thoughtful. "My child, your abilities are far greater than what you've shown," he said, his voice steady but probing.
What he didn't realize was that his telepathic probe wasn't working.
Ethan's body instinctively rejected any energy that could be considered a threat—including mental intrusions.
If he didn't allow it, Xavier couldn't get inside his head.
Still, the professor's tone remained warm as he extended a hand. "Come with me," he urged. "I'll take you where you belong."
To Xavier's surprise, Ethan didn't hesitate in his response.
"Nope."
Professor X blinked. "Excuse me?"
Ethan crossed his arms. "You're talking about that Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, right? Thanks, but I'm not interested."
Xavier's lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the blunt refusal. "I think there's been a misunderstanding.
We mean you no harm. At my school, you'd meet others like yourself—people who understand what it's like."
Ethan shrugged. "I don't need to be surrounded by mutants to have friends. Regular people are fine too."
A slow smile tugged at Xavier's lips. "You have a strong sense of self," he said approvingly. "That's rare."
If this were a different situation, Xavier might have even applauded Ethan's response.
Mutants who saw themselves as equals to humans—rather than superior—were valuable. But right now, the professor felt a tinge of disappointment.
"At my academy, you'd have the chance to learn and master your abilities," Xavier pressed.
That made Ethan hesitate. The offer was tempting. Training under Xavier would no doubt speed up his understanding of his powers.
But after a moment, he shook his head. "No need. My powers are stable. I can figure things out on my own."
He wasn't being stubborn—just practical. Right now, he had no desire to entangle himself with Xavier's school.
Even though the details were hazy, Ethan still remembered the bigger picture. The Xavier Institute was more than just a school—it was the epicenter of the conflict between mutants and humans.
Xavier and Magneto were at the heart of it all, constantly caught in battles that often turned deadly.
And while Ethan was confident in his abilities, he wasn't foolish. He hadn't mastered his powers yet, and walking straight into the eye of the storm before he was ready?
Yeah, that sounded like a good way to get himself killed.
Professor X sighed internally, his emotions a mix of understanding and disappointment.
"Stable and controllable abilities…" he repeated softly. What a beautiful phrase. If Jean Grey had been able to say the same, his life would have been so much easier. Another Omega-level mutant—one who wasn't a danger to himself or those around him?
That was a gift.
But the very words that gave Xavier hope were also the ones rejecting his offer.
It wasn't the first time a mutant had turned him down. Some mutants found ways to integrate into society, learning to manage their powers on their own.
Others were lucky enough to have friends and family who accepted them, giving them no reason to seek refuge at his school.
When Xavier encountered such individuals, he usually did the same thing.
He gave them his blessing… and left them to find their own path.
But Ethan couldn't just walk away. The boy in front of him was an Omega-level mutant. It wasn't just about Professor X anymore—Magneto wouldn't let a mutant of that level slip through his fingers so easily.
And unlike Professor X, Magneto didn't play by the rules. If he wanted Ethan on his side, he wouldn't just extend an invitation—he'd find a way to manipulate him. Maybe he'd play nice at first, waiting for Ethan to feel alienated, bitter—until one day, just when Ethan was at his lowest, Magneto would swoop in with a sympathetic smile and say,
"Let the world feel your pain."
Yeah. That sounded exactly like something Magneto would do. Ethan was young, sure, but Magneto was a master manipulator with decades of experience. If he wanted Ethan on his side, he'd make sure it happened.
Professor X knew this, and it put him on edge. He had to convince Ethan to come with him—to his school—before Magneto had a chance to get to him first.
"Look," Professor X said, keeping his voice calm but persuasive. "You're about to age out of the orphanage.
When that happens, where will you go? Don't you want a stable place to live?"
Ethan leaned back, arms crossed. "I've got it handled. Already found an apartment.
It's cheap, fair, and only costs a hundred bucks a month. What, is your school gonna be cheaper than that?"
Professor X smiled. "My school is free."
Ethan, who had been completely nonchalant up to that point, suddenly sat up straighter, eyes flicking toward Professor X's bald head like a sunflower tracking the sun.
"Wait, hold up—what's the catch? Is food included? What about a room? Air conditioning? Fridge? TV? Washing machine? Hair dryer? Dryer? And—listen, this is the most important part—is there Wi-Fi?"
Professor X chuckled. "Everything you just listed, we provide."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Alright, one last question. Do you guys offer scholarships?"
"Of course. If you enroll, I can personally guarantee you this year's first-class scholarship."
Ethan leaned in. "How much are we talking?"
"Ten thousand dollars a year."
The second those words left Professor X's mouth, Ethan bolted out of the room.
For a moment, Professor X panicked.
'Wait—was that too low? Did he want to negotiate?'
But before he could call after him, Ethan came sprinting back, clutching a pen and a stack of paper.
"What… are you doing?" Professor X asked, watching in confusion.
"I need it in contract," Ethan said, dead serious. "Sign it, or I don't believe you."
Professor X stared at him, momentarily speechless. Then, with an amused sigh, he took the pen and began writing.
[Ethan voluntarily agrees to enroll at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Tuition is free. Room and board are included. The room will have air conditioning, Wi-Fi, a washing machine, and other necessary appliances. A first-class scholarship of $10,000 per year will be given.]
Ethan read over the document carefully. Then, with a satisfied nod, he folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket like it was a winning lottery ticket.
"Alright," Professor X said with a small smile. "Now that we've settled that, let's go."
Ethan held up a hand. "Not yet."
Professor X raised an eyebrow. "You have another request?"
"Yeah." Ethan's face turned serious for the first time. "I want a formal acceptance letter. Something official, so I can leave the orphanage through the right channels. That way, Ms. Emma won't worry about me."
Professor X blinked.
For a moment, he was caught off guard. But then, after a beat, he nodded, a warm smile crossing his face. "Of course. That's more than reasonable."
Ethan glanced at Ms. Emma, who had been quietly observing the whole time. Her eyes softened, and she gave him a small, approving nod.
Professor X let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Ethan might have rejected his invitation at first, he might have bargained like a businessman, and—yes—he might have insulted his bald head when they first met, but at the end of the day, Professor X knew the truth:
Ethan was a good kid.
And good kids deserve a place where they can thrive.
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