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1962, CIA Secret Base, Nevada**
"Eric, you're back!" Raven's voice carried a relaxed familiarity. She'd been the first to join Charles at the CIA, and her easy rapport with Eric showed it. "How'd it go? Find anyone good?"
The others at the table leaned in, curious about the new mutant Charles and Eric had scouted that morning. Word was, this one might be a real fighter.
"He told us to get lost," Eric said with a wry shrug, settling into a chair. "Guy's got a cigar and an attitude to match."
Raven laughed. "Plenty of mutants out there, right? We'll find others."
Eric's face sobered. "We're running out of time, Raven." His gaze shifted to Jake. "Jake, can you swing by the office later? Charles and I need to talk to you."
Jake's brow furrowed. Why him? From what he recalled, the mutants at the base mostly sat around, eating free meals and waiting for something to happen. Serious training wouldn't start until the Black King's attack wiped out half the base's agents. For now, Jake had joined to quietly hone his Homelander powers, courtesy of the strange system bound to him.
"I'm done eating," Jake said, standing. "Let's go now."
Eric nodded, and they left the mess hall, leaving the others buzzing with curiosity.
"What's Eric want with Jake?" Sean muttered.
"He's not like us," Raven said, smirking. "You seen anyone control their powers like he does? It's like he was born for this."
The others exchanged glances, unable to pin down why Jake stood out.
In Charles' office, Jake sank into a chair. Charles, all charm and British polish, smiled warmly. "Coffee or tea, Jake?"
"I'm good, thanks," Jake said, sizing up the room. Charles radiated calm, like a kindly professor, while Eric, arms crossed, had a raw, untamed edge—like a coiled spring ready to snap.
"How're you settling in?" Charles asked, his tone almost fatherly. "Anything you're not used to?"
"It's fine. Good setup here," Jake replied honestly.
"Glad to hear it." Charles leaned forward, his eyes sharp despite the smile. "Jake, you're different. You're more mature than the others—sometimes I forget you're only sixteen. And your control over your abilities? It's remarkable. Eric and I couldn't match that at your age."
Eric cut in, his voice direct. "Jake, you know why we brought you here?"
"To stick together as mutants?" Jake said, playing dumb. He knew the real reason from his memories of this world's timeline.
"That's part of it," Eric said, his tone hardening. "But it's just the start. We're vetting everyone—training, testing, weeding out those who can't cut it."
Jake tilted his head. "So, you're building a team of mutant agents?"
"Not agents," Charles corrected, his voice gentle but firm. "We need mutants with fighting skills for special missions, to face unique threats. It's temporary, and no one's forced to leave, even if they're not chosen."
"So why am I here?" Jake asked, raising an eyebrow.
Charles smiled. "You've already passed the test. Your control and strength put you on par with Eric. You don't need vetting."
Eric stepped forward. "Charles is swamped, so you and I will handle the next round of mutant recruitment. You up for it?"
Jake paused, then nodded. "If you trust me, I'm in."
He'd been coasting at the base long enough—time to pull his weight.
"Thank you, Jake," Charles said, pulling a file from his desk and sliding it across. "Here's your first target."
Jake opened the folder, his eyes narrowing at the photo. The face was familiar—someone he'd seen before, though he couldn't place where.
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