The next morning, I woke up to Alloy hovering over my bed like a judgmental drone.
"Congratulations," he said in a deadpan voice, "you're officially 'that guy.' You know, the new kid who almost melted the cafeteria."
I groaned, pulling a pillow over my face. "Remind me to build you an off switch."
He ignored me, floating to the window. "Relax, champ. They'll either think you're dangerous… or hot. Which, judging by Rogue's smirk, is both."
I sat up, cheeks heating. "Don't start."
The training yard was built like a mix between a sports field and a military base. Energy-dampening panels lined the walls, and holographic targets floated in the air.
Charles Xavier stood at the sidelines, cane in hand, while Hank McCoy — younger, shaggy-haired, still in his "lab rat with claws" phase — adjusted a tablet.
"Your energy signature is… unprecedented," Hank mused. "It's not just mutant. It's like your cells are burning two fuels at once."
"Because they are," I said, flexing my fingers as sparks of turquoise light danced between them. "TURBO energy from my Takonian side. Cosmic resonance I can't fully explain. And now, apparently, the x-gene."
Alloy zipped beside me. "And don't forget — I'm the one keeping him from exploding."
Hank scribbled something. "Remarkable. If unstable."
"Story of my life," I muttered.
The test began. Holo-drones swarmed, firing low-powered stun blasts. I released a controlled burst — turquoise beams lancing from my palms — but my aim wavered. Half the drones fried. Half survived. One hit me in the shoulder.
"Concentration, Jake," Xavier's voice echoed, calm but firm.
"Easy for you to say, Professor, you're not the one glowing like a faulty reactor!"
Energy surged too fast. Alloy shouted in my head. Throttle down, throttle down!
I clenched my fists, forcing the release into a narrow beam. This time, the drones dropped one by one. Sweat beaded my forehead, but the overload didn't come. Not fully.
When the last drone fizzled out, Hank clapped politely. "Impressive. Crude, but impressive."
Later, back in the lounge, the students circled like curious cats.
Jean offered a warm smile. "You did well today. You're adapting faster than most."
"Thanks," I said, trying not to sound winded.
Rogue leaned against the wall, arms folded. "Sugar, you light up like the Fourth of July. Bet you can't even kiss someone without shorting out their pacemaker."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I deadpanned.
Her smirk widened. "Just saying — you'd better learn control fast. Or your love life's gonna be radioactive."
I sputtered, Alloy snickering loudly in my head.
Laura Kinney didn't speak, but she lingered. Watching. Assessing. Her green eyes followed every twitch of my hands, every flicker of light under my skin.
Scott, on the other hand, wasn't subtle. He pushed his shades up, scowling. "You're a liability. We don't need another loose cannon."
Before I could snap back, Jean's voice cut sharp: "Scott."
He looked away, jaw tight, but the tension hung heavy.
Meta Interlude — Deadpool Sports Commentary
"And here we are, folks! Jake McGrath, rookie mutant, just scored his first controlled blast! Kinda messy, but hey, so was puberty." "Hank McCoy with the classic 'remarkable but unstable' line — bingo square filled, take a shot." "Scott Summers, still rocking the world's most punchable jawline. Ten bucks says Jake and Scott throw hands before chapter 35."
That night, as I lay back in my dorm, Alloy's voice softened for once.
"You know they're looking at you differently now, right? Not just the new guy. They think you're… a leader."
I stared at the ceiling, the glow fading from my eyes. "…I didn't sign up for that."
"No one does," Alloy replied. "But sometimes, the story picks you anyway."
I couldn't argue with that.