"Just as I thought," he said, analyzing. "Your X-gene enhances your physical systems. You're built for high-speed, high-impact movement—muscles, nerves, even your perception are tuned for velocity."
"Then how do I train it?" Gavin asked, eyes wide with hope.
"Through repetition. Push your body's speed. In return, your gene will respond, shaping your physiology further. The more you run, the faster you'll become. The faster you become, the more force your blows carry. But remember—it's not just running."
Jue drew a simple stance with his fingers. "Upper body strikes. Dodging drills. Reflex work. Coordination. You must refine the whole body."
"And eat," he added dryly. "A lot. You'll burn through energy like a starving Hollow."
Gavin nodded furiously.
"Eventually, you'll level up. Then you add weights. Combat conditioning. Then technique—I'll teach you that. For now, focus on running, striking, dodging, and recovery. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good. That's your path."
He turned to Eugene. "Your turn."
Eugene approached warily.
"You're different," Jue began. "You remind me of Quincy from my world. You manipulate reishi—spirit particles. Yours manifests as light. It's fast, deadly, and pure."
"Reishi? Quincy?" Eugene echoed, confused.
Jue lifted his hand, and particles of spiritual energy began to swirl around Eugene. "These. Learn to feel them. Draw them in. Combine them with your light."
Light sparked faintly from Eugene's palms, reacting to the reishi.
"Light has penetrating power, explosive heat, and overwhelming speed. It's ideal for long-range warfare. And when enhanced with spirit energy, it becomes lethal."
"So I focus on mastering both?" Eugene asked, excited.
"Yes. I'll prepare a high-density spirit zone for you. Train there. But don't neglect your body. Your powers won't shield you from every hit."
Jue gave him a knowing look. "Quincy uses bows. You can design your own conduit—blades, guns, lenses. Up to you."
Eugene smiled. "Can I start today?"
Jue nodded. "I'll take you to a remote training site. Your path begins now."
****
Sometimes, when you've spent your life groping in the dark for a goal just out of reach, a guiding hand offers you a path so clear, you follow without question.
That's where Gavin found himself.
He pushed through another lap on the frost-covered training ground, his breath steaming in the cold morning air. Thin clothes clung to his sweat-drenched body. Every muscle screamed, every joint ached—but he ran faster, freer than ever before. Something inside him had been unlocked.
"Enough," Jue's calm voice cut through the winter silence. But Gavin didn't hear. He was lost in the momentum of his own awakening.
With a sigh, Jue vanished from sight and reappeared effortlessly beside him, jogging with the same fluid, effortless grace.
"You've done enough. Rest."
"I... can still... go…" Gavin panted, eyes hazy with exhaustion but lit with determination.
Jue surged forward just enough to block Gavin's path, then slowed, forcing the boy to match his pace. Gavin tried to dodge, to overtake, but Jue was always a step ahead. When he bumped into the Shinigami, it was like hitting air—every impact absorbed and neutralized.
Finally, Gavin gave in. He staggered to a stop. As usual, Jue grabbed the boy by the collar to stop him from collapsing completely. No matter how hard he trained them, Jue never allowed his students to collapse. He trained bodies—and spirits.
Nearby, Eugene approached, having just finished his own training. "I can only control a few leptons," he reported, disheartened.
"Then you've done well," Jue said. "What I'm teaching isn't sorcery or mutation—it's a path to strength without shortcuts. True power demands patience."
Eugene nodded weakly. His legs trembled. Jue examined them both and spoke gently.
"Take Gavin inside. Eat. Sleep. Let your x-gene adjust. You'll notice the changes by morning."
Though Eugene longed to continue, his body refused. He helped Gavin back toward the school, joined by other curious students, still too timid to ask for training.
Once they were gone, Jue dispersed the spiritual particles around his body, making himself invisible to ordinary sight. A true master of the Kaidō and Kūkanshōkan arts of the Bleach Soul Society, he needed no incantation.
Rising on currents of spirit energy, he soared toward New York City.
---
Sanctum Interlude
Though Xavier's mansion stood on the city's outskirts, Jue crossed the distance in mere moments. New York's skyscrapers stretched beneath him like a forest of steel and glass.
He descended into Manhattan—and flew straight to the New York Sanctum, the domain of Earth's mystic defenders under the Supreme Sorcerer.
Magic pulsed from the walls as defensive wards activated. Energy circles flared to life. Sorcerers appeared, surrounding Jue with practiced calm but ready force. Still, Jue did nothing. He stood silently amid the arcane tension.
Then a mage stepped forward, dismissing the others.
"You're the foreign soul the Supreme Sorcerer mentioned, aren't you?"
"I am," Jue replied. "Please inform her I'd like to speak—in the same place we met last."
Though annoyed by the intrusion, the mage recognized the Ancient One's orders and gave a curt nod.
Jue didn't linger. He bowed politely and vanished.
****
The City That Never Sleeps
For the first time since arriving in this universe, Jue let himself relax. New York's chaos enveloped him—crowds shouting, taxis honking, the pulse of mortal life.
He walked unseen among them.
He'd spent months aligning himself with the world's power structures—Xavier's mutants, Strange's sorcerers—and subtly introducing spiritual forces into this new realm. Every step was calculated. Every word is balanced between diplomacy and dominance.
Now, finally, he had room to breathe.
But fate never let him rest long.
****
Yi Feng
He was wandering through a narrow street when he saw it: a teenage boy, limping, lightning crackling around his fists as he fled from a group of thugs. Blood streaked his clothes. The insults hurled after him were as ugly as they were familiar.
"Mutant trash!"
"Chinese freak!"
"Yellow monkey!"
The air around Jue stilled. The temperature dropped.
The lead thug raised a metal pipe—but before it could fall, a shockwave knocked him across the alley.
Yi Feng froze. His fists still buzzed with lightning, but the men around him… weren't moving.
He knelt beside one.
Dead.
Panic flooded him. "No… no, no…"
He scrambled to another. No breath. Another. No pulse.
"I… I didn't mean to…"
A voice, smooth and soft, echoed through the alley.
"They're all dead."
Yi Feng turned sharply—yet saw no one.
But Jue was already there, hidden, watching this new mutant whose awakening had been baptized in blood.
And in that moment, a new thread was woven into Jue's already tangled fate.