"Mind explaining what mutants are now?" Jupiter asked as they walked, his tone calm but curious.
"We're just the next batch of screwed up genes, bub," Logan said, lighting a cigar as they made their way through the corridor. "We're human, mostly, but we got an extra part in our DNA that gives us an edge. I can heal from anything, and I got these claws." He gestured toward Ororo with his thumb. "The kid over there can fly and make the weather do what she wants. I'm pretty sure you're a mutant too, even if you're denying it."
Jupiter almost scoffed. There was something about that word, mutant, that grated against him. As his template developed, he found himself reacting instinctively to comparisons like that. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was the lingering essence of the god whose name he carried. "I'm not a mutant," he repeated evenly, though Logan's explanation had confirmed a suspicion of his own, they were similar to people with quirks from another world he once read about. Humans altered by nature or circumstance.
"Then what are you?" Ororo asked, her eyes locking on him with quiet curiosity. The way she looked at him now was different than before, less analytical, more searching.
"I already told you," Jupiter said, his tone steady. "I'm a god."
Logan let out a low whistle, smirking around his cigar. "Well, that'd explain the lightning tricks."
"With that display, I wouldn't be surprised," Ororo said softly, still studying him. "You sent that Sentinel flying like it was nothing. I've never seen anything like it."
"It's... complicated," Jupiter replied. It wasn't arrogance that colored his tone but restraint. To explain divine authority, the concept of domains and principles, to mortals, even enhanced ones, would only lead to more confusion.
Before either could ask more, they reached the mansion doors. The structure was intact, the earlier chaos already fading into a strange stillness. Students were trickling back into their dorms, whispering among themselves, everything was normal even though the air still carried the faint ozone scent of lightning.
Logan pushed open the main doors and exhaled smoke. "We've gotta talk to Chuck," he said, his voice turning firm as he strode past the crowd.
Ororo gave Jupiter one last look before following. "You'll come too, right?" she asked quietly, her tone unreadable, part expectation, part invitation.
Jupiter hesitated only a moment before nodding. "If your Chuck wants to talk, I'll listen."
Logan gave a small, amused grunt. "Trust me, bub, he's gonna want to talk."
Hearing that, Jupiter shrugged lightly, following behind as they made their way up the stairs. The sound of their boots echoed faintly in the quiet hallway. His gaze flicked to the side toward the faint blue screen that hovered in his peripheral vision—visible only to him. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as text began to scroll.
Template Identified: Lostbelt Zeus [Ω Class Machine God]
Assimilation Progress: 50%
Basic Assimilation: Divine Core of a Chief God – Rank C
50% Assimilated of Proper Human History Zeus
That brief encounter with the Sentinel had advanced his template by seven percent. The increase was steep, too steep to be coincidence. He reasoned that it was due to Zeus's original form being an Combat Annihilator Type Machine God, a being built purely for destruction. Conflict must have been a catalyst for growth. The more he fought, the more he became what the system wanted him to be.
It was a strange irony, divinity born from battle. The thought made the idea of becoming a "hero" more appealing than he expected.
They reached the end of the hall, stepping into a room that was both warm and strangely sterile. A large desk dominated the space, polished and flanked by sleek machinery. Screens and devices that looked far beyond modern human technology hummed softly in the background.
A bald man sat behind the desk, hands folded, gaze sharp yet kind. "Ah, Logan," he said, his voice carrying a calm authority. "So it's come true?"
"Yeah," Logan muttered, the familiar gruffness in his tone edged with irritation. "Just ran into one. Didn't think they'd actually go through with the project."
Jupiter's brow furrowed slightly. He could tell Logan wasn't easily shaken, yet the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.
The bald man turned his attention to Jupiter, and for a brief moment, Jupiter felt something brush against the edge of his consciousness, light, probing, curious. The man's presence wasn't physical; it was mental.
"First, I'd like to thank you for helping Ororo and Logan return safely, Jupiter," the man said, tone courteous but deliberate. "I am Professor Charles Xavier. Most simply call me Professor X."
Jupiter studied him for a moment before responding. There was something about the way Xavier spoke, calm yet perceptive, that made it hard to read his intent. "Nice to meet you, I suppose," Jupiter said, his voice casual but steady. "So since you already seem to know about these Sentinels, mind filling me in?"
Charles gave a slow nod. "Of course. The Sentinels were designed by a branch of the government, machines specifically created for one purpose, the elimination of mutants." His tone was measured, but beneath it was a quiet anger, restrained by years of diplomacy. "I explained the basics to some of our students, including Ororo, though I had hoped it would never come to this."
Jupiter's gaze shifted to Ororo, who stood silently at his side, her expression unreadable. "So only certain mutants know about this?" he asked.
"Yes," Charles replied, his voice low. "Primarily those classified as omega level. They are the ones who stand a chance, should these things ever become active on a large scale." Jupiter didn't know what beings classified for Omega level was but he assumed it was some sort of power classification and decided not to interrupt.
Logan crossed his arms, nodding grimly. "Back when I was working with special ops, I caught wind of the Sentinel program. At the time, it was just talk, blueprints and theories. Never thought they'd actually pull it off."
Charles sighed. "They've advanced far beyond what we once feared. Sentinels are adaptive. They learn, adjust, and evolve to counter mutant powers. Each encounter makes them more efficient. That's what makes them so dangerous."
Jupiter leaned back slightly, absorbing the information. "Adaptive machines made to hunt down people with powers," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "So they're basically weapons designed to exterminate an entire class of beings."
"Precisely," Charles said, his voice measured but his eyes sharp. "And the fact that you were able to destroy one means they will not ignore you."
"I see," Jupiter replied, pausing briefly, his expression unreadable. "Then why don't we help each other out?"
Charles's brow lifted slightly. "In what way?" he asked, tone calm but clearly intrigued.
"Simply put, I am a god."
Charles didn't move, but the faint tightening around his jaw made it clear he was processing that statement with careful restraint.
That wasn't entirely true, of course. At his core, Jupiter was not a god in the absolute sense, at least not anymore. He was a divine spirit, a "God" who had long since lost his physical form and dissolved back into nature, now existing as little more than a living phenomenon. It was the curse of the incomplete template, power without fullness, divinity without wholeness.
"But I've become degraded due to certain circumstances," Jupiter continued, his tone steady but the admission oddly human. "And unfortunately, I require faith to regain my previous power."
Charles tilted his head slightly. "Faith," he repeated, more to himself than anyone else, as if tasting the word.
Ororo frowned faintly. "You're weakened?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with genuine curiosity.
Jupiter nodded once. "Had I been at even a fraction of my full power, I would have killed that sentinel in one blow."
The room fell silent. Eyes widened. The claim was absurd, but not coming from him. The quiet confidence in his tone didn't feel like arrogance. It felt like truth.
Charles leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the desk. "What are you getting at here, Jupiter?" he asked, calm as ever but with a note of gravity now.
"If you can aid me in gaining faith," Jupiter said, meeting Charles's eyes with the same composure, "I can guarantee protection from all outside threats. If necessary, my protection will extend to all of mutantkind."
It wasn't a boast, it was an offer. One made with the kind of finality that only beings who knew the weight of their own power could make.
Ororo glanced at Charles, quietly gauging his reaction, but the professor's face was unreadable. Behind those calm blue eyes, though, gears were turning. He knew what such an alliance could mean, for better or worse.
"You're offering protection in exchange for belief," Charles said finally, his voice even but thoughtful. "A mutual arrangement between divinity and those who have long been denied acceptance."
Jupiter's lips curved slightly. "Correct."
It wasn't arrogance, at least not entirely. In truth, Jupiter had originally intended to protect only the earth itself, all that fell under its natural order. But now that he stood in front of mutants, beings powerful enough to shift the balance of that very order, he saw the potential. Protecting them wasn't just strategic, it was necessary. If mutants could thrive under his guidance, then their strength and faith could serve as the foundation for his restoration. Denying that would be foolish.
"I will do what I can, however," Charles began carefully, his tone holding that trademark patience of his.
Jupiter's eyes narrowed slightly. The idea of being bargained with didn't please him. The faint edge that entered his gaze wasn't deliberate, it was instinctive, the faint pulse of Zeus's pride stirring within him. Yet he curbed it. He couldn't afford to alienate them, not now. These people were his potential allies, not subordinates, at least not yet.
Charles noticed the subtle shift but didn't react outwardly. He clasped his hands on the desk, speaking gently. "If you can, I hope that you can stand for the mutant people. We are looked down upon and shunned by the world, and I was hoping you could help in making our image better."
"That can only be done by mutants," Jupiter replied almost immediately, his tone calm but firm. His words cut through the room with a quiet finality that made Ororo glance between them. "I could speak of your worth to the world, but it would be meaningless unless your own people stand for it. Mortals are not so simple minded as to follow a god just because he tells them to."
Charles's lips curved slightly at that, a mixture of understanding and quiet respect. "You're more pragmatic than I expected."
"Experience teaches patience," Jupiter replied smoothly, then leaned forward slightly. "But let me be clear, Professor."
His gaze sharpened, not in threat, but in purpose. "If you seek representation, then those who speak for mutantkind must also speak for me. I cannot act for a people who stand apart from my order. If mutants wish for representation, they must have those among them who bear my mark, Apostles, Heralds, whichever term suits you best. They will not be servants, but voices. Representatives of mutantkind under me."
The silence that followed was heavy, but not tense. Charles studied him for several long seconds, weighing both the risk and the sincerity behind the words. There was no malice in Jupiter's tone, only conviction, the kind of conviction that came from someone who had seen gods rise and fall and knew exactly what such an alliance would mean.
Finally, Charles spoke softly, his tone measured and calm, though the weight behind it was unmistakable. "You understand that what you're asking is not a simple thing. Many of my kind have already suffered under the pretense of service."
"I am a Just God," Jupiter responded simply, his voice carrying that unshakable conviction that came with divinity. There was no boast in his tone, just truth spoken as fact. Zeus had been known as a King God and a God of Justice, though his interpretation in myth had been far from perfect. Jupiter, however, the Roman aspect, was different. He embodied the ideal of justice, of order maintained through fairness and strength. And for Jupiter, that wasn't just divine nature—it was personal principle. He judged based on worth, on action, on what one brought to the table. Nothing more, nothing less.
"You will not be held to injustice under me," he continued, his gaze steady on Charles. "If you choose not to worship, that is fine. I do not demand blind faith. But understand this, my protection only extends to those who stand beneath my name. Those I can call my own."
The words weren't threatening. They were direct, bound by the same kind of logic that governed storms and laws of nature. Jupiter didn't force submission; he offered order.
Charles sighed quietly, closing his eyes for a brief moment as if weighing the cost of what was being offered. "It seems there is no way around it then," he began, voice calm but heavy with thought.
Before he could say more, Ororo's voice cut through the quiet, soft but firm. "I'll do it."
Charles looked up sharply, his brows lifting slightly. Logan's head turned toward her as well, and Jupiter's attention immediately followed, his electric blue eyes narrowing slightly with interest.
"Ororo," Charles began, concern flickering across his face, "you don't have to—"
"I know what I'm saying," she interrupted, her tone steady but gentle. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes burned with conviction. "If it'll help everyone, if it makes things safer for mutants, for the students, for the people who look to us, then why not? What do we really lose from this?"
Logan frowned, pushing himself off the wall. "You sure about that, Ro? Deals with these types never end simple."
Ororo smiled faintly at him, her expression softening. "Maybe not. But we can't keep hiding behind fear, Logan. We've been fighting for acceptance for years. Maybe this is a new kind of fight, one that doesn't start with claws and lightning."
Charles stared at her quietly for a few seconds, the tension in his face fading into quiet contemplation. "You're certain about this?" he asked, his voice carrying that familiar mix of caution and respect.
"I am," Ororo said, turning her gaze toward Jupiter. Her voice lowered slightly, calm yet resolute. "If there's even a chance this could bring change, I'll take it."
Jupiter studied her for a long moment, his eyes glimmering faintly as if seeing something deeper, something that resonated. She wasn't speaking out of desperation or blind faith. It was resolve.
"I'll be Jupiter's apostle," Ororo said finally, her tone calm yet resolute. "We have little to lose, and everything to gain from such a deal."
The room fell quiet. Jupiter didn't respond right away, his expression unreadable, though there was a glint in his electric blue eyes that hinted at amusement or perhaps approval.
"Jupiter is also my friend," Ororo continued, her gaze shifting toward him. "Even if I'm just finding out about all of this... before any of this, he was still my friend. I trust him."
Charles studied her for a long moment, his eyes reflecting both thought and concern. Finally, he exhaled quietly, the tension in his posture softening. "If you believe that, then I'll trust your judgment," Charles said, his voice calm but firm.
Jupiter smiled faintly, the charged air around him easing as if the atmosphere itself relaxed. "Good. Then we'll discuss the details tomorrow. My mom's probably waiting for me."
His tone was casual, almost teasing, as if the conversation hadn't just been about divine authority and mutant freedom. The sudden shift drew an amused huff from Logan, who had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed the whole time.
"How are you gonna get back, bub?" Logan asked with a skeptical look.
"I'll fly," Jupiter said simply, as if that was the most normal answer in the world. He turned toward the exit, lifting a hand in a casual wave. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."
As he passed, Jupiter gave Logan a friendly pat on the shoulder. The older mutant just grunted in response, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.
Jupiter made his way down the corridor and toward the stairs. The echo of his footsteps was met by a familiar voice. "Jupiter? I thought you left already," Jean called from the hallway, a faint frown of surprise on her face.
"I ran into some problems on the road, so we came back," Jupiter explained, his tone easy. "But I'm heading out now."
Jean nodded, her expression softening. "Oh, okay. I hope you get home safe."
Jupiter couldn't help the small smile that curved his lips. The irony of her words wasn't lost on him, especially after the Sentinel attack earlier. Still, he appreciated the sentiment.
"Thanks," he said, turning toward the door. "See ya."
"Bye," Jean said quietly, watching him go.
Outside, the cool night air greeted him as he stepped past the school gates. A calm hum built around him, faint sparks of blue lightning dancing along his arms as he looked up toward the sky. Then, with a single motion, he launched upward, his form streaking into the clouds like a comet of light, leaving behind only a fading trail of azure energy that shimmered briefly before disappearing into the night.