"Professor, this isn't your fault. You didn't mean for it to happen."
"Just like the lessons you taught us—they apply to you too."
Wolverine sighed and spoke up to comfort him.
Back then, the reason humans feared mutants wasn't solely because a small fraction used their powers for crime. Most of the fear stemmed from mutants who, upon first manifesting their abilities, were so terrified that they couldn't control their powers—often harming their loved ones or innocent bystanders.
Whenever these young mutants were brought to the school, the Professor would counsel them, helping them find the courage to start anew.
But the Professor was just like those children. His seizure had caused his mind to spiral out of control, leading to that tragedy. And no one bore the weight of that pain more than he did.
"I'm not a child. If I've made a mistake, I must take responsibility."
"I can't bring back the dead, but I can try to make life better for those still living."
The Professor looked at the group of children before him and managed a faint smile.
If not for them—if not for the hope they rekindled in him—he might never have been able to face those agonizing memories. He might have drifted through life, lost in despair, until death claimed him.
"But Professor, it's been so many years. The government might've already seized the school."
This time, it was George who spoke up.
The location of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was indeed ideal—nestled in the outskirts of the Bronx, not too remote yet far enough from the chaos of Manhattan. Even during the Chitauri invasion, the destruction hadn't reached there.
More importantly, from what George knew, the Bronx was the northernmost and most lawless borough of New York, primarily populated by African-American and Latino communities.
If Hell's Kitchen was the worst part of Manhattan's affluent district, then the Bronx was the most dangerous place in all of New York. Gangs ruled the streets, and its crime rate ranked among the highest in the entire country.
A place like that was perfect for someone like him to move unnoticed, to make money in the shadows. Even if people died, the government wouldn't bat an eye.
But after all these years, how could a castle that large still be unoccupied?
Professor X wiped his tears and explained:
"Though I'm wanted, it's not an official manhunt. The government doesn't want to escalate things, and they lack sufficient evidence to arrest me."
"On paper, my identity still exists. Most of my assets remain intact—including the castle."
"But if I reveal myself or access any of those resources, the government could trace and capture me..."
"I see."
George wasn't well-versed in these matters, but after the Professor's explanation, he grasped the general idea.
Officially, Professor X was the headmaster of a school for mutants. But in the public eye, he was the heir of the prestigious Xavier family—a true capitalist magnate. In some ways, his influence even surpassed that of Stark Industries.
Stark Industries had risen to prominence thanks to Tony's father, Howard. Before that, it hadn't been a major corporation. But the Xavier family was an old aristocratic lineage, deeply rooted in history.
Without concrete evidence, openly arresting the heir of the Xavier family and confiscating their assets would send shockwaves through the elite. If the government could do that to the Xaviers today, who's to say they wouldn't come for others tomorrow? Fear would spread like wildfire.
And could the government produce definitive proof that the Professor had killed those people?
Of course not. The Professor's seizures had caused his mind to spiral out of control, unleashing his telepathy on those around him. Even surveillance footage would only show people suddenly collapsing—no way to prove the Professor was responsible.
Then there was the matter of public perception. If it came to light that the same man who had aided the government in crises, who had been received and decorated by the President, had suddenly slaughtered so many people—
The government would bear the backlash. Their credibility would plummet, and even the President would suffer severe consequences.
So back then, the only option had been a covert arrest and imprisonment. The incident was deliberately downplayed, kept out of the public eye.
"If that's the case… it really might be a good option."
After careful consideration, George nodded in agreement.
The Westchester Incident had happened twenty-five years ago—in 1984. At the time, Tony Stark was only fifteen, just starting at MIT's electrical engineering program.
Carol Danvers hadn't even become a pilot yet. Nick Fury was just an ordinary SHIELD agent. Peter Quill was six years old, his mother still alive.
So the mutant school… might truly have been left untouched all this time.
Back then, the police sent to search the place probably hadn't even discovered the basement levels.
"I have no objections. As long as the children are safe."
Gabriella raised her hand in agreement. If the Professor and George both thought it was feasible, then it must be. She was just a simple Mexican nurse—her role was to care for the children, not to voice uninformed opinions. She knew her place.
Seeing everyone else on board, Wolverine stopped opposing the idea.
Truth be told, he longed to see the school again. It had once been a sanctuary for his soul.
As for Caliban—wherever the Professor and Wolverine went, he would follow. The location didn't matter to him.
And so, the truck changed course, heading straight for New York.
With so many children—none of whom had identification—they avoided major cities, stopping only in small towns for supplies. When night fell, they parked in secluded areas to rest.
Two days later, they arrived in the Bronx.
Perhaps because he had finally confronted his past, the Professor's condition had improved slightly. Though he couldn't use his powers as freely as before, he could still occasionally influence ordinary minds. That made the journey much smoother.
To throw off any pursuers, they switched trucks multiple times—selling one at a used car lot, then buying a different model from another, cycling through vehicles.
Once in the Bronx, they didn't head straight for the school, the castle-turned-academy in Westchester. Instead, George and Wolverine scouted ahead in disguise.
Just as the Professor had predicted, the place stood empty, untouched. But years of neglect had left the castle weathered and worn.
Once they confirmed it was safe, they waited until nightfall. Then, with the children in tow, they slipped inside and settled into the basement.
The castle's basement had two levels. Aside from the Cerebro chamber and the old X-Men training room, there were over a dozen spare rooms—enough for everyone to squeeze in.
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