Ethan's memories were crystal clear—mutants in the movies always faced two tragic fates.
One path led to destruction at the hands of Sentinels, the towering mechanical enforcers built to eradicate their kind.
The other was far more insidious—humanity, having unlocked the secrets of the X-gene, devised genetically modified crops that, when consumed, suppressed mutant abilities and even led to their deaths.
This bio-weapon was hidden in everyday food, quietly erasing an entire species without a single war.
As a mutant himself, Ethan wasn't about to sit idly by and let either future become a reality.
Following Xavier blindly meant risking the latter outcome. But Magneto? He was different. If the world tried to oppress mutants, he showed them exactly why that was a mistake. That unyielding defiance was something Ethan deeply respected.
From a biological standpoint, Ethan had thought a lot about what it meant to be a mutant. There was no true reproductive isolation between mutants and ordinary humans.
A child born between two mutants wasn't necessarily a mutant, and an ordinary couple could still give birth to one.
The X-gene was like any other recessive trait, present in nearly all humans. In reality, there was no real distinction—mutants were simply enhanced humans.
Mutants weren't some separate species.
They were just powerful.
And honestly? Ethan didn't even like the term 'mutant.' 'Quirks' had a much better ring to it.
Lost in thought, Ethan barely noticed Magneto stirring beneath him. He had been using the master of magnetism as a makeshift seat, after all.
"So," Magneto finally muttered, breaking the silence. "You actually agree with my methods?"
"Of course. Even if the execution was a bit of a disaster, your goal was right." Ethan nodded.
'A good kid! No brainwashing needed—er, no, teaching. And strong potential too.' Magneto felt like he was about to cry tears of joy.
If Ethan weren't still so young and rough around the edges, Magneto might've even considered making him his successor.
"Ethan, do you mind helping me up?" Magneto asked. He might be one of the most powerful mutants alive, but he was also an older man.
Being used as a stool for too long wasn't doing wonders for his back.
"Yeah, alright." Ethan figured that after showing where he stood, Magneto wasn't about to start throwing metal at him.
Besides, at this close range, there was no way Magneto could escape his grasp if he tried anything funny.
With Ethan's help, Magneto stood and stretched his stiff limbs.
He gave Ethan a firm pat on the shoulder, feeling oddly proud despite, well… everything that had just happened.
Sure, Ethan had wrecked his plans, knocked him and his subordinates around, and even used him as furniture, but Magneto could recognize a kindred spirit.
The kid had potential, and Magneto, in his infinite wisdom, could overlook a few bruises.
A sudden voice cut through the moment.
"Ethan!"
Storm's voice rang out as she approached, flanked by Cyclops and Jean Grey.
During Ethan's battle with Magneto, the three had broken free from their restraints and even managed to rescue Rogue, who was leaning against Jean for support.
Magneto's face twisted in irritation. "More pests…"
Then, with a casual wave, he turned his back to them and called out, "Come, Ethan. We're leaving."
Ethan blinked. "Who said I was going with you?"
Magneto turned back, confused. "You just said you agreed with me."
"I did. But I never said I'd follow you. And more importantly…" Ethan reached behind his back and pulled out a length of rope from seemingly nowhere. In one swift motion, he bound Magneto's arms.
"Who said you were leaving?"
Magneto sputtered. "You're joking. You think you can just—"
"I'm totally serious. I'm about to turn you in and rake in some major credit with the Professor." Ethan grinned.
Magneto growled in frustration. "What could Charles possibly have given you that made you choose him over me?"
Ethan put his hands on his hips, his expression deadly serious.
"He's covering my tuition. Free room and board. And, best part? A $10,000 scholarship."
Magneto's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "You're kidding. You betrayed me… for pocket change?"
Ethan sighed, shaking his head. "C'mon, Magneto. You've gotta understand. I grew up in an orphanage.
Do you know how many of my clothes were worth more than fifty bucks? Zero. And this X-Men uniform? Probably costs at least a thousand. Now it's ruined." He gestured to his torn suit. "The academy owes me a replacement. No—two replacements. We agreed on the jet."
Storm pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ethan, priorities."
"This is a priority." Ethan held up a finger like he was making a grand point. "If they don't replace it, I'll accept cash instead."
"Alright, enough," Cyclops said, stepping forward. "Magneto caused a massive scene. The military and S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here soon. We need to get him back to the Professor now."
With that, Cyclops dragged the bound Magneto toward the jet. The engines roared to life, and before any reinforcements could arrive, the X-Men's stealth aircraft shot off into the sky, breaking through the encirclement.
Inside the jet, the mood was tense. Storm, Cyclops, and Jean weren't exactly celebrating.
They knew that once they landed, Professor X would have plenty to say about today's chaos. A long lecture awaited them.
But Ethan? He was in a great mood. As a student, none of that was his problem. If anything, Charles would handle the fallout, and Cyclops would take the brunt of it.
Meanwhile, Ethan could kick back and relax.
That was, until a nagging thought crept into his mind.
"…Did we forget something?"
Cyclops frowned. "Huh. Now that you mention it, something feels off. But it couldn't have been too important."
Below, somewhere along the shore of Liberty Island, a soaking wet, utterly exhausted Wolverine dragged himself onto land.
He looked up just in time to see the jet taking off without him.
"…MMPHHH!!"
...
Early in the morning, the sound of a video game filled the room, waking up Ethan. Rubbing his eyes, he groggily sat up in bed.
"Wake up, buddy!" John Allerdyce, a.k.a., Pyro, grinned as he turned around, controller in hand.
He was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, fully engrossed in his game.
On the screen, a fighter character launched a fiery attack. "Hadoken!"
The announcer's voice echoed through the room.
John was playing Street Fighter, and his skills were undeniable. He had already defeated several opponents with ease and was holding his own against the final boss.
"Where's Bobby?" Ethan asked with a yawn.
"Over there." John pointed toward the balcony.
Bobby Drake, a.k.a., Iceman, stood outside, carefully watering a small potted plant. He turned his head and grinned when he noticed Ethan was awake. "Morning!"
"You're up early, too." Ethan stretched, then shuffled into the bathroom to freshen up.
Ten minutes later, feeling much more awake, he stepped back into the room and waved at his friends. "Let's go grab some breakfast."
"Nah, I'm good." John gestured to the pile of snacks in front of him.
"Oh, really?" Ethan smirked, snatching a bag of potato chips from the floor and tearing it open.
"Dude, no way! That was my last pack!" John made a move to grab it back, but at that moment, the tables turned in his game.
Distracted, he frantically mashed buttons, but it was too late. His character was knocked out, and his winning streak was over.
Meanwhile, Ethan casually finished off the chips.
"Guess you can join us for breakfast now." Ethan tossed the empty bag aside.
John sighed in defeat. "Fine. Let's go."
The three of them headed to the cafeteria. It had been three days since the Liberty Island incident.
With Magneto safely handed over to Professor X, Ethan's mission was technically complete. As for what came next, that was up to the Professor.
Ethan was just another student at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, waiting for classes to resume.
The problem? School wasn't starting any time soon. One by one, the teachers had gone missing—off on their latest world-saving missions. Normal classes? Not happening this week.
What kind of school was this? If parents asked why their kids' grades were suffering, were they supposed to say,
'Oh, our teachers are too busy fighting supervillains to teach class?'
Yeah, that excuse wouldn't fly. They'd definitely be in trouble.
Most students welcomed the extra time off, but even vacations could get boring. Ethan started wondering—did the school even have a student council? If not, maybe he should start one. Someone had to stand up for student rights, especially the right to actual classes.
Lost in thought, he barely noticed when they arrived at the cafeteria. Xavier's School wasn't large—there were maybe a hundred students total. And during an unexpected break like this, the cafeteria was nearly empty.
At the center of the room, a large TV screen displayed the morning news. Footage of the Liberty Island attack played, with reporters analyzing every detail.
Ethan listened while eating. The incident had officially been classified as a terrorist attack. The strange energy blasts?
Labeled as a new type of optical weapon. No mention of mutants—only a brief statement declaring that the attack had "no confirmed ties to mutant activity."
That was all Professor X's doing, Ethan realized. The Professor had used his influence to redirect the blame, keeping mutants out of the spotlight. It was impressive. Professor X was a kind man, but he was also a leader. He knew how to play the game.
Of course, the incident wasn't entirely forgotten. Protests and angry debates continued, but this wasn't going to be another 9/11.
The world of Marvel had seen too many disasters for that.
In New York, where villains blew up buildings on a weekly basis, people had long since adjusted.
Unless aliens were attacking, most New Yorkers wouldn't even put down their coffee.
Satisfied that the crisis had been contained, Ethan returned to his meal. But then John pulled out his phone and grinned mischievously. "Hey, check this out."
"What is it?" Ethan asked, leaning in.
"The truth about the Liberty Island attack." John hit play.
The blurry video on the screen showed the Statue of Liberty at night. Two shadowy figures stood at the top, locked in battle. Ethan immediately recognized the footage—it was him versus Magneto.
The video quality was terrible, mostly fog and pixelated movement. Still, whoever recorded it had managed to capture the moment.
The comments below were filled with complaints about the bad resolution, and most people were questioning if it was real.
"These idiots actually think this video is fake. It's obviously Magneto!" John scoffed, eyes shining with admiration. "Man, that guy is awesome."
"I'm more interested in the other guy," Bobby chimed in, watching closely. "Who the hell can fight Magneto and hold their own?"
"Could it be the Professor?" John asked.
"Really? You think Professor X suddenly ditched his wheelchair and went full-on action hero?" Bobby rolled his eyes. "The video's blurry, but you can tell—it's a younger guy, probably under forty."
John slammed his hands on the table. "That's it. I've decided!"
"Decided what?" Bobby asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm gonna find this guy and make him my new boss!" John declared.
Ethan nearly choked on his milk.
"Dude, it's not that funny," John muttered, frowning as Ethan tried to stifle his laughter.
"No, no, go on," Ethan waved a hand, pretending to be totally uninterested as he took another bite of his bread.
Bobby, however, was watching Ethan closely. Something wasn't adding up. He distinctly remembered that night—Ethan had gone to meet Professor X and hadn't come back until much later.
Could it be…?
Bobby quickly shook his head. Nah, impossible. There was no way his roommate was that badass.
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