(I have a Patreon if you want to read the next 10 chapters of this fanfiction then go to patreon.com/7_Night )
The next day, Dante was walking through the streets of White Plains with Owen beside him. The sun was warm, the streets were busy, and the city's energy was a comforting contrast to everything they'd been through. Owen still had faint bandages on his cheek and arm, but he was walking steadily. Dante kept an eye on him, just in case.
"You okay?" Dante asked, glancing to the side.
"Yeah. Don't worry about me, Dan," Owen replied casually.
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Wow. 'Dan'? Nobody's called me that in a long time."
Owen shrugged with a smirk. "Guess I'm bringing it back."
They walked a few more steps in comfortable silence before Owen glanced around, a bit confused.
"So, uh… where are we exactly?"
"This," Dante said, motioning to the area around them, "is White Plains. It's a mid-sized city not far from the school. Weird name, I know, but I haven't had the chance to explore anywhere in Westchester yet."
He looked ahead as they crossed the street. "I figured… with everything you've been through, this might be a good way to help you clear your head."
Owen raised an eyebrow. "Thoughtful. But I didn't bring any money."
"Don't worry," Dante said with a grin. "I'm paying for everything today."
Owen immediately smirked and pointed ahead. "Then let's go there."
Dante followed the direction of his finger… and immediately groaned.
"You planned this."
Ahead of them stood a sleek, glass-walled restaurant—one Dante recognized right away as being very high-end, and ridiculously expensive.
Owen just chuckled and started walking faster. "I'm still technically injured. Can't say no to comfort food."
Dante sighed and followed, shaking his head. As they made their way down the sidewalk, he couldn't help but notice something.
People—especially girls—were staring at him. Whispering. Blushing.
Owen noticed it too.
"Okay," he said slowly. "I've been holding this in, but I have to ask."
Dante looked over.
"What the hell happened to your face?" Owen asked, baffled. "Did you get plastic surgery in a week or something? You look like a literal demigod."
Dante burst out laughing. "Nope. Believe it or not, it's from my demon arm."
Owen's eyes widened. "Wait, wait—you're telling me the arm made you hot?"
"Technically," Dante said between chuckles. "Because of the arm's life-aligned energy, it enhanced everything about my body. My strength, my height, my reflexes… and yeah, even my face."
Owen's expression dropped in mock disappointment. "Man… if I had gotten that arm instead, with my already great looks—"
"You'd be unbearable," Dante cut in, laughing harder.
"I'd be beyond you," Owen fired back.
Dante grinned. "Oh, and when I said everything improved, I meant everything."
There was a pause.
Then Owen's eyes went wide. "Wait. You mean… your snake too?!"
Dante just smiled smugly.
Owen clutched his head dramatically. "This isn't fair! First, you get taller—what are you now, like 6'3"? And I'm still stuck at 6'0"! Then your face upgrades like some RPG character! And now this?!"
Dante burst out laughing again. "Come on, man. I told you, the burns will fade in a week. You're still a pretty boy."
Owen narrowed his eyes, pointing a dramatic finger at him. "If you're lying to me, I swear I'm gonna kill you because I want to show the entire school that you're only slightly more handsome than me."
Dante froze for a second at the last part.
"Wait," he said slowly. "You're… coming to the school?"
"Of course I am," Owen said like it was obvious. "I mean, I am a mutant too, remember?"
Owen, like Dante, was also a mutant. His X-gene had been activated during the possession, just like Dante's—but the demon's influence had completely suppressed his true mutant power, keeping it dormant the entire time. It wasn't until he was finally freed that the real nature of his abilities began to surface.
Dante blinked. "I thought your power was just the metal skin on your legs that end on your knees."
"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Until I noticed something weird."
He stopped and pulled off one of his sandals, lifting his foot. Dante leaned forward and saw two small black dots—one near the ball of his foot, the other closer to the heel.
I discovered them when I was showering "And when I focused on them…"
He slipped off the other sandal and concentrated.
The dots on both feet began to glow faintly—and then, to Dante's surprise, Owen rose into the air, hovering about a foot off the ground.
"I can fly!" he said, wobbling mid-air before dropping down again. "Still working on balance, though."
He stepped off the curb and gave it a light kick. A chunk of concrete cracked beneath his heel.
"My metal skin isn't just durable. It's dense. I can launch off almost anything. It's like having built-in rocket boots."
Dante's eyes lit up. He was smart enough to realize what kind of combat potential that held.
"That's actually amazing," he said. "You and I could really be in the school together."
Owen grinned, then wrapped one arm around Dante's neck.
"You're damn right we will. You and me, the top dogs of the Jean Grey School."
Actually… I don't think that's possible
Owen turned to him, confused. "What does that mean?"
"One of the students here is an Omega-level telepath."
"What's that even mean?" Owen asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh right, you probably haven't heard the term before." Dante scratched the back of his head. "Omega-level is the highest possible ranking a mutant power can get. It basically means they're among the strongest mutants alive."
Owen blinked, wide-eyed. "Holy shit…"
He stood there for a moment, processing. He'd watched enough news with Dante to understand the kind of destructive, world-shaking power some mutants had. And now, apparently, one of them was their classmate.
"Which one is it?" he asked carefully.
Dante didn't hesitate. "The pink-haired guy. Quentin Quire."
Owen's jaw dropped. "Seriously? The guy with the attitude and the weird shirts? He's Omega-level?"
"Yeah," Dante said, suppressing a smirk.
"Man…" Owen muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I saw him around a bit and could already tell he had a serious ego, but I figured he was just some loudmouth."
"He is," Dante said. "But he can back it up."
Owen sighed and looked around. "So… is there anyone else I should know about?"
"Well, yeah. There's Kid Gladiator."
"That doesn't sound like a mutant."
"He's not. He's the son of Gladiator. Some kind of alien prince from the Shi'ar Empire. Supposedly crazy strong."
"Wait, wait, Gladiator?" Owen blinked. "Isn't he the guy who fought the Hulk?"
"That's what Kid Gladiator says, yeah."
Owen scratched his head. "Damn… how did my life go from normal high school soccer to me studying next to some of the strongest beings on the planet?"
I should seriously train hard so I can catch up
He paused, then smirked. "Wow, I'm saying main character stuff right now."
Dante laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, you kinda are."
But even as they joked, the weight of everything that had happened lingered. Dante glanced at Owen, hesitating. There was something he'd been avoiding, but he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Hey, Owen."
Owen stopped walking. So did Dante.
"We need to talk. About what happened when you were possessed."
Owen's face changed slightly—just for a second—but then he sighed and nodded. "Yeah."
Dante stayed quiet, giving him the space to talk.
"I killed them," Owen said. "Everyone on the trip. The teachers, the parents, the students. I remember bits and pieces, but I can piece it together. It happened right after I left for the soccer tournament… right before your birthday."
Dante's eyes widened.
"My demon leg awakened on that trip," Owen continued. "The possession… it took over completely."
He paused.
"My foster parents were there too," he added, his voice flatter now. "But don't worry about them. They were assholes. Only took me in for the money, and they made sure I knew it. They would've kicked me out the second I graduated."
"I'm not worried about them," Dante muttered. "It's the others—"
"I know," Owen cut in. "And yeah… it was a tragedy. But don't worry. I'm not gonna pretend I'm overwhelmed with guilt or spiraling. You guys explained everything to me. I've had time to think. It was random, chaotic, and completely out of my control. It wasn't my fault. And I know that."
He gave a small smile. "So yeah. It'll take time, but I'll get over it."
Then, without waiting for a response, he turned back down the street. "C'mon, let's go eat."
Dante stared after him for a second, then followed. He knew Owen. Knew when he was lying, and when he was honest. And right now… he was telling the truth.
⸻
A few hours later, after sharing food, jokes, and a few rounds of arcade games, they finally returned to the Jean Grey School.
Only to find it in ruins.
The courtyard was torn up, several walls damaged, and scorch marks streaked the ground.
"The hell…?" Dante muttered.
They ran forward—but thankfully, as they got closer, they realized students and staff were already outside, talking and laughing. No one looked injured. Whatever battle had happened, it was already over.
Owen stood beside him, stunned. "Damn… we missed all the fun."