"All right, Mr. Zhou Yi, let's see the forces that defy our current scientific models," Jean Grey announced, her voice a mix of strained professionalism and undeniable fascination. She led him through another massive blast door and down a short, pressurized ramp into the next chamber: a colossal, hollowed-out subterranean space designed to contain and measure catastrophic energy releases.
It looked less like a lab and more like the inside of a massive, reinforced silo, dominated by a cylindrical testing area that resembled a high-tech wind tunnel—the Containment and Energy Dynamics Chamber.
"Before you start, outline the scope of the abilities you have, thus far, reliably replicated," Jean instructed, holding a ruggedized tablet that displayed schematics of the chamber's integrated sensor grid. She was taking control, forcing him to define the chaos she was about to face.
Zhou Yi paused, gathering his thoughts. The constant hum of the facility, which subtly fed his internal solar fire, made him feel powerful, restless, and slightly manic.
"Beyond the physical strength you just measured, I can reliably control gravitational fields—lifting, crushing, or altering vectors. I wield telekinetic force—moving matter without touching it, and generating kinetic energy blasts. I can also generate and control fire and plasma, and the temperature ceiling seems to be constantly rising; it's currently stable past 3,000 degrees Celsius—the heat of a moderate star's photosphere. Finally, I can fly, with speeds that match the Mach 4+ running pace you calculated."
Jean Grey gave him a long, unsettling stare. His casual inventory sounded like the equipment list for a small, tactical strike force. Without another word, she directed him to a marked launch point within the tunnel, and then retreated behind a shielded monitoring station, the heavy, blast-proof glass automatically darkening to a deep blue.
"The tunnel is now pressurized and secured. I have activated multiple layers of energy dampeners and structural integrity monitors," Jean's voice crackled through the comms.
"Yi Zhou, please use your powers sequentially against the test targets that deploy. We need accurate readings of output, range, and efficiency. Do not hold back. The equipment here is designed to handle a full-scale assault from the X-Men."
Zhou Yi felt the familiar, delicious surge of power. Challenge accepted.
He took a breath, allowed the latent solar energy to coalesce, and then launched himself into the air.
First, Speed and Flight. He didn't just fly; he became a streak of incandescent air, shattering the sound barrier within the closed, reinforced space. The sensors tracked a blur of motion as he performed two laps in less than a second, the resulting twin sonic booms shaking the massive chamber and causing the control console to blink red.
Next, Energy Projection. A set of specialized, diamond-composite pillars deployed from the ceiling. Zhou Yi's eyes flared with intense, contained light. He fired two continuous beams—not of mere heat, but of focused, coherent plasma. The beams were silent, deadly white lines that cleaved through the composite pillars as if they were butter, the superheated material vaporizing instantly into nothingness.
Then came Telekinesis and Gravity. A large, multi-ton slab of reinforced vibranium alloy was hydraulically moved into the center of the tunnel. Zhou Yi lifted a single hand.
The vibranium groaned, and with an audible crack, it was crushed into a jagged sphere, the air around it shimmering from the intense gravimetric distortion. He didn't stop there. He simultaneously launched the sphere against the wall with raw telekinetic force, creating a deep, cratered impact that was immediately patched by internal repair systems.
Finally, Controlled Plasma and Fire. Zhou Yi conjured fire—but not an ordinary flame. It was a golden, blinding storm of solar plasma. He didn't just throw a fireball; he maintained a stable, spherical furnace that filled a third of the tunnel, sustaining the 3,000+ degree heat for twenty terrifying seconds.
The chamber's internal temperature surged, demanding maximum performance from the cryogenic cooling system, while external sensors captured the clean, radioactive-free, pure-energy signature of his flame.
When he finally cut the power, landing lightly on the scorched platform, the entire chamber was reeling. Warning sirens wailed softly, and the ceiling was actively venting superheated air. The chamber was not destroyed, but it had clearly been pushed past its designated safety margin. Zhou Yi had nearly blown the entire subterranean floor to pieces.
Jean Grey emerged from the control booth, her face pale, the blast shield retracting. The look in her eyes was no longer professional; it was a mixture of awe, horror, and profound strategic realization.
"I… the data is being compiled now. The raw power output exceeds anything we've recorded, outside of a full-power blast from Scott or possibly a max-level geomagnetic storm from Ororo," she admitted, her voice unsteady. "We need one final sample to correlate the energy signature with your biological makeup."
Zhou Yi submitted without argument as she quickly drew a small vial of his blood. "Understand this, Miss Grey," he stated firmly, his earlier flirtation forgotten.
"This blood sample is given under the strictest condition: it is for analysis only, and once the data is collected, it must be completely destroyed. No long-term storage, no genetic banks. This is a non-negotiable prerequisite for any further cooperation with the Xavier Institute."
Jean Grey met his gaze, understanding the gravity of the demand. Such research material, if leaked, would be the foundation for an endless supply of anti-meta-human weapons. "I agree to those terms, Yi Zhou. I will personally oversee the disposal."
With that, their testing was concluded. After a tense, quiet departure from the Institute—a brief moment with Professor Charles to confirm Sharice was safe and happy—Zhou Yi and his mother were on their way back to New York. The partnership, however reluctant, had begun.
The moment Zhou Yi was out of range, Jean Grey connected telepathically with Professor Charles, her report concise and urgent. She didn't wait for his reply; she plunged immediately into her designated task: the analysis of Yi Zhou's blood sample.
Despite her primary expertise in psychology and her growing mastery of telepathy, Jean held three PhDs and possessed a formidable intellect.
The need for secrecy surrounding Zhou Yi's power—a capability that could tip the global balance of power—meant she could not risk involving anyone, not even Beast, who often collaborated with government agencies. This vital intelligence had to be contained within a tiny, completely trustworthy circle.
For hours, Jean Grey worked in silence, adjusting the magnification on the advanced cellular analyzer, her brilliant mind correlating the raw data from the tunnel with the strange biology on the slide.
The first discovery was the most staggering: Zhou Yi was not a mutant.
The X-Gene was definitively absent. His powers were the result of a profound, genetically engineered mutation caused by an unknown, cosmic factor.
Jean Grey quickly compiled the initial report, tagging the top of the file with a chilling warning:
SUBJECT DESIGNATION: SIGMA-001 (Non-X-Gene Origin)
WARNING:Subject exhibits cellular integrity and power output inconsistent with terrestrial biology. Threat level: Catastrophic.
Below was the detailed analysis:
1. Cellular Kinetics and Evolution Rate:
The target's blood sample exhibits an extraordinarily high, near-uncontrolled rate of cell division, growth, and evolutionary mutation—rates far beyond anything observed in even the most advanced healing factors (e.g., Wolverine). The cells are not merely regenerating; they are constantly hyper-evolving.
However, there is a distinct decline in the peripheral cells. Cells at a higher evolutionary state are actively engulfing and metabolizing the lower-level cells, functioning in a state of cellular cannibalism to maintain stability.
Conclusion: The body's native metabolic energy production is woefully inadequate to sustain the efficient, high-level cellular evolution rate demanded by the cosmic catalyst. The body is effectively starving for power, forcing it to maintain a low-level, self-consuming evolutionary cycle.
2. Radiation and Energy Affinity:
Tests revealed zero adverse reaction to controlled, high-level electromagnetic and ionizing radiation. Furthermore, cells that were exposed to and absorbed the radiation exhibited an immediate and significant surge in division and evolutionary rates.
Conclusion: The subject exhibits a benign, and indeed, symbiotic reaction to radiation. Radiation is not a poison to this life-form; it is a potent amplifier and nutrient. This biological affinity explains the incredibly clean energy signature of his plasma projection—it is not merely converting ambient energy; it is harnessing and refining the raw matter of the universe.
3. Structural Integrity and Xenophobia:
Solubility and structural resistance tests show a cellular architecture of impossible density. The target cells were highly xenophobic, successfully and instantly engulfing or neutralizing all injected foreign biological agents (including potent viral and bacterial cultures). Further immunological study is required, but the preliminary data suggests the subject is effectively immune to all known terrestrial biological threats.
Jean sat back, rubbing her tired eyes. The man was a walking paradox: a teenager with the destructive potential of an Omega-level mutant, yet he was starving his own cells for lack of energy. If he ever figured out how to sustainably fuel his hyper-evolutionary core, he would transcend human biology entirely.
A light tap on her shoulder startled her. Ororo, having returned from her classes, stood behind her, a curious, slightly troubled expression on her face.
"Jean, how are you holding up? The lab tunnels are still cycling the air filters. Did that young man truly cause that much destruction?"
Jean frowned, pushing her coffee cup aside. "Honestly, I feel sick, Ororo. Not from the destruction, but from the data. Look." She gestured to the compiled digital file on the main screen.
Ororo's eyes scanned the document. She saw the SIGMA-001 designation and the high-level cellular report. Her face tightened.
"The X-Gene is absent. This is not our problem. It's an anomaly, a fluke. Why is the Professor investing top-tier resources on a non-mutant?" Ororo asked, placing a hand on the console. She represented the traditionalist view: the Xavier Institute was founded for mutant survival.
Jean leaned forward, her intense focus drilling into Ororo. "Because he represents a new reality, Ororo. His sister is here, a legitimate mutant, but he is the tether. And he is a tactical nuclear warhead wearing street clothes."
Jean spoke with a strategic urgency that Ororo rarely saw. "The Brotherhood won't care about his genetic makeup. Weapon X won't care. The moment they find out, they will try to capture, control, or eliminate him. We, as the most technologically and intellectually advanced faction on the planet, have a moral and strategic imperative to intervene."
Ororo still looked conflicted. "But we were established to protect mutantkind, Jean. To invite an outside force, a power we can't categorize or fully trust, risks the entire sanctity of the school. There is a purity to our cause."
"Purity is a luxury we can no longer afford!" Jean countered, her tone sharp.
"If we wish to survive, we must discard the old paradigms. Our focus must shift from only helping those with the X-Gene to protecting all gifted individuals who will be targeted by humanity. Yi Zhou is the most powerful meta-human we've encountered who is not already a committed enemy. If we ally with him, his sister is safe, and we gain an undeniable shield. If we push him away, he becomes a potential rival, or worse, a weapon used against us."
Ororo remained silent for a long minute, watching the detailed cellular diagrams pulse on the screen. "I understand the logic. But tell me what the Professor's final directive is. He rarely leaves a decision this sensitive to chance."
"The Professor's hope is simple: we maintain a strong, positive relationship. Ideally, he becomes an official, if non-mutant, ally," Jean admitted, tapping the report file until it electronically shredded itself and the blood sample was incinerated in a blast furnace.
"We cannot allow his existence to be discovered by anyone outside this room. He is now our most potent, most terrifying secret."
Ororo sighed, the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders. "And how do we foster this relationship, Jean? He is a boy, but he wields the confidence and power of a king. Your previous attempts at polite communication failed spectacularly."
Jean closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He acts like a typical, overconfident teenager with a strong desire for attention and validation—especially from women he finds attractive. Scott and I had a brief, painful discussion about how to handle him."
She chuckled, a dry, self-deprecating sound. "It's clear he will respond best to someone who treats him as an equal—or perhaps even a prize. But who, Ororo? I certainly can't do it. Scott would have vaporized Yi Zhou's house the second I asked him out. And you... you're his teacher and a foundational member of the X-Men. We can't deploy one of our most trusted assets as a… honey trap."
Ororo considered the option, a wry, almost mischievous look crossing her features. "Perhaps a honey trap wouldn't be necessary. He seems to respond well to my own brand of… curiosity."
Jean stared at her friend. The idea of the X-Men's ethical conscience, the majestic Storm, engaging in complex psychological warfare with a powerful, hyper-developing teenager was astounding.
"Ororo, you are the conscience of the X-Men! You can't be seriously suggesting this!"
"I am suggesting we use every available psychological tool to protect our community, Jean," Ororo clarified, her voice hardening.
"If a little flirtatious charm and a lot of intellectual stimulation is what it takes to keep a Sigma-001—a potential extinction-level event—on our side, then it is a price I am willing to pay. We are desperate, Jean. And desperation requires radical action."
Meanwhile, two hundred miles away, Zhou Yi was back in the cluttered comfort of the small, temporary rental they had secured in Queens, New York. He had barely set foot inside the front door when an involuntary, powerful sneeze ripped through him.
"HATCHOO!" The force of the sneeze was enough to rattle a windowpane.
Who in the nine hells is plotting my demise now? he thought, rubbing his nose.
Before he could process the strange psychic residue he felt, a familiar, formidable presence was upon him. His mother, Zhou Lan, hands firmly planted on her hips, blocked his path to the stairs, her eyes blazing with maternal suspicion—a look Zhou Yi knew better than to ignore.
"Don't you dare try to move past me, Yi Zhou. I want a full, unredacted report on what you did in that fancy private school today, and why I had to leave my daughter—your sister—behind," she demanded, her voice rising to a dangerous tiger-mom level.
Zhou Yi sighed internally, defeated. The great solar kineticist, the hyper-evolved meta-human, the man who had stared down a telepathic king and nearly shattered a vibranium alloy slab, was completely powerless against a very angry Chinese mother.
He knew the traditional values: in this home, his mother was the supreme commander, and his cosmic power meant nothing against the force of her will.
"But Mom, this is a matter of national… personal security! It's private!" Zhou Yi attempted a pathetic defense.
He saw the murder in her eyes. It was going to be a long, sleepless night of confession and forced accountability. But as he dutifully began pulling out a chair for her, preparing to serve tea and start the long, embarrassing explanation, a genuine, quiet joy settled over him.
He was home. He was a secret weapon, yes, but more importantly, he was a son.
"All right, Mom. It all started with a bald man in a wheelchair…" he began, knowing he was about to reveal only the most sanitised version of the day's catastrophic events. The secrets, however, would have to wait.