Nick Fury considered the image of himself wearing a monocle over his one good eye, then shook his head and declined the offer. "I think one eye accessory is my limit, old friend. It would look a little strange."
After a moment, a thought occurred to Fury, and a wry smile touched his lips. "You know, I was wondering why I've been seeing more monocles around the Triskelion lately. Turns out they're all just copying you, the esteemed former Director. It seems there are still plenty of people around here trying to curry your favor."
Pierce calmly placed the monocle back into its socket, his own smile unreadable. "Really? It appears many people in the bureau simply share my refined taste. A clear view can be... illuminating."
At the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, also known as Academy X, Amon pushed open the door to Professor Charles Xavier's office. Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled over a chair, sat down, and propped his feet up on the corner of the professor's desk as if he owned the place.
Professor Xavier, who had been engrossed in a newspaper, looked up, startled. A warm smile quickly replaced his surprise. "Amon, you've actually returned to school! I was beginning to think you and Ilyana planned to skip the entire month."
Amon propped his head on his hand. "Professor, I thoroughly enjoy my classes here. It's Ilyana who finds school life a bit dull. It just so happened that some interesting events were unfolding in New York, so I took her out for a bit of extracurricular activity."
Charles chuckled. "A bit of activity? You've been gone for over a week. If I didn't know you better, I would have assumed you'd gotten into some kind of trouble."
Amon waved a hand dismissively, shifting in his seat. "Professor, don't you find the current educational model for mutants a bit... uninspired? Perhaps it's time for a different approach."
"A different approach?" Charles repeated, his brow furrowing. He shook his head slowly. "Are you suggesting more social activities, like students at other schools? I tried that, but as you know, mutants are different. Our students possess incredible, sometimes volatile, abilities. Not everyone has the control you do, which often leads to accidents. For their safety and the public's, I've had to limit their contact with the outside world."
Amon stretched out a finger and wagged it back and forth. "I disagree, Professor." He straightened up, and under some unseen force, his chair slid smoothly across the floor until it was directly in front of Xavier's desk.
"You're right that accidents happen, but your conclusion is flawed. Mutants are no different from anyone else; they just have special abilities. Even an ordinary person will cause chaos if you put them in an environment they aren't suited for. Our students aren't the problem. They're just not in the right place."
Charles leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You make a valid point. But where is this 'right place' for us? You seem to have an idea."
"Professor, what is a person with superpowers best suited for?" Amon asked with a knowing smile.
Charles considered this for a few moments before answering tentatively, "Becoming a superhero?"
Amon shook his head. "No. Not just becoming superheroes. They are most suited to becoming stars. Idols. Modern myths."
A large question mark seemed to hang over Charles's head. He had never considered such an answer.
Amon elaborated, "Think about it, Professor. People with astonishing abilities, professionally packaged and promoted, would captivate the public. We can present mutants as the heroes of their own stories, putting them on the big screen. You've always worked to integrate mutants into human society, have you not? This is the perfect vehicle. Look at Captain America, the super-soldier from World War II. Decades later, he is still a beloved icon, the very embodiment of the American spirit. And Tony Stark, who just declared himself a hero, is already an idol to millions."
As Charles mulled over Amon's words, a spark of excitement lit his eyes, only to dim just as quickly. He sighed. "The idea is brilliant, Amon, truly. But its implementation would require immense support. Funding is one thing, but the government would never agree to such a plan."
"Professor, as long as you agree, I have everything else covered," Amon said with a confident smile. "All I need is a cast of super-powered individuals to play the part of heroes."
Charles asked in surprise, "Covered? What have you prepared?"
Amon pinched the crystal-like monocle on his eye. "Did I not mention it?" he asked innocently before continuing, "I have a company. I recently partnered with Tony Stark to establish a superhero-centric enterprise. We've even decided on a name: Marvel."
"Marvel," Charles breathed. "What a wonderful name! Amon, you are even more remarkable than I imagined. To have accomplished so much on your own..."
"So, you agree, Professor. Excellent. I'll just borrow the X-Men for a while. I'll return them when we're finished." Before Charles could respond, Amon stood up, walked to the door, and waved goodbye. "Farewell, Professor!"
Charles watched him go, a bemused laugh escaping him. "That boy..."
The current leader of the X-Men was Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops. At that moment, three people occupied his office: himself, his girlfriend Jean Grey, and an unwelcome intruder, Wolverine.
Seeing Logan lounging shamelessly in his office, Scott felt a familiar spike of irritation. "Logan," he said, his tone sharp, "why are you always hanging around my office? Don't you have anywhere else to be?"
Before Logan could offer a gruff retort, Jean spoke up. "Scott, how can you say that? Logan wants to join the X-Men. It's only natural he'd want to spend time with the team's leader."
Hearing his girlfriend defend Logan made Scott's blood boil, but he choked back his anger, turning his head to the side to avoid looking at his rival. "Hmph."
The atmosphere in the room grew thick with tension. Even Logan, a veteran of complicated situations, felt a little uncomfortable. The awkward silence was broken by a knock on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in!" Scott called out, grateful for the interruption. Jean also stood and opened the door. Standing outside was the tall and powerfully built Piotr Rasputin, Colossus.
Seeing Piotr enter, Scott glared at Logan, who was still seated. "You're still here? I have work to do. Anyone who doesn't belong here should please leave."
Wolverine curled his lip and was about to push himself up when a new voice drifted from the doorway. "Uncle Wolf should stay put for now. It will save us the trouble of looking for him later."
Amon was leaning against the doorframe, a teasing glint in his eye. "Summers, you should be careful. A man like Logan has a way of finding cracks in even the strongest foundations. His appeal to women is a force of nature."
Scott frowned but still managed a curt reply. "Thanks, but Jean would never fall for an unemployed, aimless drifter like him."
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