—Susan Storm 'Invisible Woman'—
"You've been drinking yourself to death," Ben complained, shifting uncomfortably on the small stool. It wasn't meant for him—he had furniture sized for his frame—but he still leaned toward the regular-sized ones. "Either you drink yourself to the point of blacking out, or work until you do."
She said nothing, continuing to sift through the massive file she had found. It was true that she had a habit of overworking—much like Reed—but with far better emotional availability for friends and family.
Though for now, she didn't feel like hearing words of reprimand.
"And now you ignore me," Ben sighed. "I'm worried about you, Susan. You'll age poorly if you keep this up."
"I'm eating and sleeping just fine, Ben," she replied without looking at him—though both knew it was a blatant lie.
"Sleep?" Ben scoffed. "The only time you sleep is when you faint."
He didn't know much about her eating habits, but he prayed she was at least getting enough nutrients—which, of course, unknown to him, she wasn't.
She was losing weight, and if not for her oversized clothing lately, he would have noticed immediately.
After that brief exchange—and Ben's continued grumbling—Susan's ears and eyes shut down to everything except the screen in front of her.
It was filled with text, mostly research-based work—projects that she and Reed both focused on. They rarely collaborated, except on a few occasions, and Reed never used a separate server for his work.
The Baxter Building had one of the most secure servers around. Ben and Johnny had no interest in their projects and never snooped, and Susan was always preoccupied with her own research to bother with Reed's.
That was why he had never hidden or encrypted his files.
Until now.
And he should have—because Susan was far too annoyed with him to ignore her curiosity this time. She had opened his project folders, and while she didn't care much about most of them, one file in particular caught her eye.
'Project: Wideawake?'
She frowned. That didn't sound like the kind of name Reed usually gave his work. His projects were always straightforward—names that immediately told her what they were about.
Negative Zone Radar. Teleportation Capsule. Shrinking Gun. Clear. Simple. Understandable.
'Wideawake?'
This felt different.
'Let's see.'
Curiosity got the better of her, and she tried to open it. Unfortunately, this wasn't just a project with an odd name.
It was encrypted—heavily.
"That's…" She frowned at the realization. "Unusual."
She tried for a few minutes, but nothing worked. In the end, she had to leave it alone.
'Just what are you working on, Reed?'
She couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease.
…
…
[Hidden Quest Completed!]
[Quest: Absolute Domination!
Condition: Defeat your opponent without suffering any damage!]
[Reward: Rare Draw ×1]
[Would you like to draw now?]
Nope.
[Draw saved for later use.]
I really need better clothes. I've been running around in rags for way too long.
Problem is—I'm broke. No cash, no coin, no moolah.
"That was impressive," Illyana said flatly. No emotion, just observation. "Didn't expect you to have dual abilities."
Dual abilities… Shit.
I showed them both—tentacles and electricity. Though technically, it's still electromagnetism, I think. I don't even fully understand it yet. It just works.
But that's not the issue.
Mutants don't usually have multiple abilities. And when they do, they're usually subcategories—like fire and heat manipulation, telekinesis and telepathy. Branches from the same damn tree.
But tentacles and electricity?
Two different trees. Hell, two different forests.
There's no way to explain that easily.
"Don't worry," Illyana smirked, as if she read my thoughts. "Everyone has secrets."
"I'm not sure what you mean," I said, frowning without realizing. "I woke up with these two powers."
"Whatever you say." Her smirk didn't fade. She turned and walked toward the mansion.
…Guess I slipped up.
"Daniel."
Xavier's voice cut through my spiral.
I turned. The man wheeled forward with that ever-serene, unreadable expression—this time, tinged with curiosity. Maybe even concern.
Illyana could wait.
"That was an impressive display," he said. "I didn't expect you to possess multiple powers."
Alright, no more fuckups. I already played the wrong card once.
"They just… appeared in my head." Not a lie. Not completely. "I still don't understand the full extent. I can summon and control the tentacles... and manipulate electricity."
Xavier's brow furrowed slightly.
"It's rare," he began, choosing his words carefully, "but not impossible. Multiple powers do emerge—though usually they're connected. In your case, the difference is quite stark."
Tell me about it.
I know a woman who can read minds and turn his skin into diamond. So yeah, rare—but not unheard of.
"But it was an impressive display," he said again.
"It definitely was," Beast added, stepping in like a nerd on Christmas morning. "I'd love to run a few scans later, if you don't mind. It might help both of us better understand your capabilities."
Yeah, no thanks.
"I'll think about it, Dr. McCoy."
He chuckled, unbothered. "Please. Call me Henry. Or Hank. Everyone does."
"You'll overwhelm him, Hank."
Finally, a voice of reason. And no, not Jean.
Storm.
She stood near the entrance, arms crossed, impassive as ever—but the words said more than her face.
Maybe she cared. Maybe not.
But I wanted to believe she did.
"Ororo is right," Jean said, joining the conversation with a tired smile. "And I'm sorry you had to go through all this on your first day, Daniel."
"Does it ever get… peaceful?"
The way her eyes softened told me everything I needed to know.
"Jean is right," Xavier added, glancing at the others. "It's best if everyone rests before the meeting."
If only I was a telepath… I'd give anything to know what the old man was really thinking.
But I don't trust him. Not fully. Not yet.
"But for now," he looked at me, "I suppose we should get Daniel something to wear."
Finally.
The pity I'd been hoping for. I'm dressed like a background extra from a post-apocalyptic film. I need clothes. Desperately.
"I'll take him to the dressing room," Jean offered.
"It's fine," Storm said, stepping forward again. "You should head out with Illyana. Try to find Logan and Bobby. We need them back ASAP."
Xavier nodded in agreement. "Ororo has a point. It's one thing to miss scouting duty, but we can't risk another attack while our team is scattered. And Bobby listens to you. If anyone can convince him, it's you."
Jean's face fell—only for a second.
There it was again. That weight. That sadness.
I noticed it the first time we met, and it's still there. Lingering like an old bruise that never healed.
Not my place. Not my problem.
I'm just the new guy.
Despite what happened between us.
"I'll try," she said, forcing a smile.
"That's all I ask," Xavier replied, matching her fake smile with one that looked real… but who the hell knows.
"I'll see you later, Daniel," he added, glancing my way. "Hopefully you find something that suits your taste."
I didn't think it would be that hard to find a shirt.
From how Xavier put it, I expected a quick trip to a closet, maybe a few folded T-shirts and jeans. Nothing fancy.
And to be fair, maybe it shouldn't have been hard.
I'm not picky. As long as it fits and doesn't itch like a wool sack, I'll wear it.
But I wasn't prepared for this level of choice paralysis.
The walk to the dressing room had been mostly quiet. And when we stepped in, it stayed quiet.
And somehow… that made it feel like more of a test.
"Blue?" I held up a shirt and glanced at Ororo.
Nothing. Just a stare.
And not a regular stare, no—hers had weight behind it. Judgment, curiosity, maybe a bit of quiet disbelief.
The dressing room wasn't really a room. It was more like a personal clothing store tucked into the mansion's basement. Professional layout, racks of every imaginable fabric, styles from subtle to downright flashy.
Thousands of options. No exaggeration.
Colors I didn't even know existed. Names I couldn't pronounce.
And the whole time, her eyes stayed on me.
I tried again. "Red?"
Still nothing.
"Purple?"
Silence.
"Green?"
A blink, maybe. But no change in expression.
"…Pink?"
She finally sighed, the kind that carried equal parts disappointment and amusement.
"Are you really that bad," she asked, "or are you just messing around?"
I shrugged. "Didn't think I was that bad."
"You dressed fine the first time I saw you," she said, finally letting her expression shift a little. "Or do you only know black and white?"
I mean… yeah. It's a safe combo. Clean. Can't go wrong with it.
And to be fair, she wears black all the time. And she looks damn good doing it.
"You can't go wrong with black," I mumbled.
She gave me a look that said otherwise, then pulled a shirt off one of the racks. Warm brown, knitted texture. Subtle but nice.
"Try this. And those white trousers."
"These?" I held them up.
She nodded.
Honestly, not bad. The knit had a nice texture, and the colors weren't screaming for attention. I could live with it.
"Alright. Give me a minute." I turned toward the changing stall.
Didn't get far.
"No," she said, and suddenly I felt her hand grab my collar.
Wait—what?
Next thing I knew, she was pulling me back toward the stall.
"A minute's not enough."
Before I could get a word in, she dragged me inside.
She was stronger than she looked. Way stronger.
And then… yeah. She started helping me change.
Not what I expected.
Not even close.
[Sin of Lust is Raging]
This sin is going to be a real problem.
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