Cyclops: Fear No Gods (Marvel)

The sun dipped low on the horizon as Warren Worthington III stepped out of the sleek black car, his sharp gaze rising to take in the grandeur of the Xavier mansion. The sprawling estate was an impressive sight, with its wide grounds and towering stone walls bathed in the warm hues of evening light. Yet, despite his usual confidence, Warren hesitated for a moment.

The opulence was nothing new to him—he'd grown up in luxury—but there was something about this place that felt different. It wasn't the wealth that struck him, but the quiet. The absence of honking cars, towering skyscrapers, and the ever-present noise of New York City left an eerie void he didn't know how to fill.

"Let's get this over with," he muttered to himself before climbing the mansion's grand staircase.

As he approached the heavy oak doors, they opened smoothly, revealing Scott Summers. Warren immediately recognized him, his calm expression a stark reminder of their encounter in New York. The memory surfaced: the quiet confidence Scott had displayed when leading the ambush against the Grady Gang, his cold and calculated precision. But what had stayed with Warren most was how Scott had spoken of his traumatic past—without hesitation, without a tremor, as though recounting someone else's life.

Warren envied that detachment. He couldn't even think about his time with Adrian Toomes without feeling his stomach churn. The shame, the helplessness—it clung to him like a shadow. Yet Scott seemed almost indifferent to the horrors he'd endured.

"Warren," Scott greeted, extending a hand. "Good to see you again. Welcome to the mansion."

Warren shook off the lingering thoughts, forcing a confident smile onto his face. "Thanks, Scott. I wasn't sure if the invitation still stood," he said, his voice steady. "And, honestly, I'm a little surprised to see you here, considering my other offer came from this place."

Scott gave a slight nod, his hesitation subtle but not missed. "At the end of the day, we're both here. That's what matters."

Before Warren could respond, another figure appeared in the doorway—a shorter, stockier man with a rugged appearance. His sharp, piercing gaze lingered on Warren, sizing him up with a scrutiny that made the young mutant's skin crawl.

"This is Logan," Scott said, his tone neutral. "He's the instructor for the X-Men. You'll be seeing a lot of him."

Logan crossed his arms, his stance casual but imposing. "You got a lot to prove, kid," he said bluntly, his tone carrying more challenge than welcome. "We're not here to coddle you, stroke your ego, or let you play hero."

Warren raised an eyebrow, his pride quickly rising to meet the challenge. "Good. I'm not here for that either."

For a brief moment, Logan's lips twitched, though whether it was a smirk or a sneer, Warren couldn't tell.

From behind Logan, two more figures approached. Warren recognized one immediately: a slender woman with flowing red hair and a kind, gentle smile. Walking beside her was a bald man seated in a sleek wheelchair, his expression calm and welcoming.

"Hello again, Warren," the woman said warmly, extending her hand. "I'm Amelia. I'm glad you decided to come."

Warren shook her hand and nodded, then turned to the man beside her, who held out his hand with an inviting smile.

"It's good to see you again, Warren," the man said as they shook hands. His voice was smooth and measured, his handshake firm despite his condition. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Charles Xavier."

The contrast between Logan's hard-edged presence and Amelia and Charles' warmth was stark. Their calm, welcoming demeanors made Warren feel a touch more at ease, though he was still wary of what lay ahead.

"Thank you for having me," Warren said, his tone formal. "I'm grateful for the opportunity."

"We're grateful you're here," Charles replied, his tone genuine. "I believe you'll find this place to be a sanctuary, one that will help you grow into the best version of yourself."

-X-

Amelia and Charles led Warren through the grand entrance hall, pointing out key areas of the mansion. The wood-paneled walls and high ceilings exuded history, each step echoing faintly on the polished floors. They passed the library, a vast room with shelves packed from floor to ceiling.

"This is a favorite spot for some of our students," Charles explained as they paused by the double doors. "Knowledge is just as vital as strength. I hope you'll find value in this space."

Warren glanced inside, the warm light of reading lamps casting a golden glow. He nodded but said nothing, unsure how to respond.

Amelia led the way to the recreation room next, a lively space filled with comfortable seating, a pool table, and even a pinball machine. "This is where everyone unwinds after a long day," she said. "We take training seriously, but relaxation is just as important."

They continued through the dining hall and kitchens before finally reaching the staircase leading to the bedrooms. Warren's room was spacious and tastefully decorated, with large windows overlooking the grounds.

"We'll leave you to get settled," Charles said, his tone gentle. "Feel free to explore at your leisure. And don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

Warren thanked them both, waiting until their footsteps faded before letting out a long breath.

-X-

Sinking onto the bed, Warren stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. The mansion was beautiful, but it felt strange. Alien.

His parents' home in New York had been just as grand, but this place was different. It wasn't the wealth or the grandeur—it was the purpose. Every corner of the mansion seemed to hum with the weight of what it represented: a place for mutants like him.

Warren shifted uncomfortably. Being here felt like admitting something he wasn't ready to say out loud—that he needed help, that he couldn't handle things on his own. And yet, hadn't that always been true?

He clenched his fists, the memories of Adrian Toomes flashing in his mind. His imprisonment. The experiments. The pain. The helplessness.

"No," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He couldn't dwell on that now. He was here for a reason.

-X-

The next morning, Warren made his way down to the Danger Room. Scott had mentioned it in passing during their conversation the night before, and Warren was curious to see it for himself.

The sleek, futuristic space was unlike anything Warren had expected. It was massive, its smooth metal walls and high ceilings giving it the feel of something out of a sci-fi movie.

As Warren wandered toward the center of the room, he spotted another figure: a young man with broad shoulders and a thoughtful expression.

"Hey," Warren called out, offering a smile as he approached. "Warren Worthington. Nice to meet you."

The other man hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and shaking his hand. "Hank McCoy," he said, his voice polite but reserved.

Warren tilted his head, studying him. "I think Scott mentioned you. You're one of the other new recruits, right?"

Hank nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, that's me. And you're…well, the guy with wings."

Warren chuckled lightly. "Guilty as charged."

There was a pause as the two studied each other. Hank seemed hesitant, as though unsure how much to share. Warren, sensing the unease, kept his tone light.

"So, what do you think of this place so far?" Warren asked.

"It's…different," Hank admitted. "But I think I'm starting to find my footing."

Warren nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's a lot to take in."

Hank looked at him curiously. "Why'd you decide to come here?"

Warren's smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly recovered. "Figured it was time for a change," he said vaguely. "And you?"

Hank hesitated, then shrugged. "Same, I guess."

Yet before the two could say anything more, Scott entered the Danger Room and immediately made his way to the control panel at the centre a little ways off from where the two were stood. Logan was already there, arms crossed and gaze steady.

"Today's training will focus on two things: resilience and adaptability." Scott's tone was firm as he addressed both of them, setting a clear expectation from the start as both moved to the control panel. "Hank, Warren, this isn't just about individual skills, but about handling pressure in unpredictable situations. You'll be rotating between two exercises—a memorisation drill and an obstacle course. First up, Hank, you'll be on the obstacle course. I've altered it to suit your current standard. You've done this many times in the last couple of days, just remember what you've done then."

Pressing a few buttons on the controls, Scott did a quick once over as the obstacles in the room came to life with a dull buzz before nodding his head and turning to Warren. "And Warren, you'll start with the memorisation drill. Your focus is on matching the paired tiles. We'll start simple with a five-by-five grid, but increase that number with every success. You'll keep going until Hank finishes the obstacle course. Or until you complete the five by five."

Logan smirked, adding a blunt, almost taunting edge. "We'll be pushing you. So don't expect any handholding. Especially not when it comes to sparring later. The more mistakes you make or the slower you move, the harsher you'll find my teachings."

Hank, his posture already tense and nervous, cast a glance at Warren to see what he was like, but all Warren did was smile and give a firm nod of acknowledgement as if accepting the challenge. He then moved over to the wall-mounted screen where the memorisation drill was displayed and ready to begin.

Seeing this, Hank took a deep breath before moving to the start of the obstacle course. As the two got into place, Scott stepped aside but remained watchful, Logan, however, stayed at the course, his gaze fixed on Hank with a challenging stare that almost dared him to stumble.

Unlike prior times, Scott wasn't going to intervene.

There was still a great deal of hesitation and doubt in Hank about his powers and abilities, but with Warren here and prior successes, Hank was less reluctant to push himself. As a result, Logan's tough-love approach was the best thing for him now, encouragement and praise could be given afterwards. However, what Hank needed now was not a balance between the two while giving the obstacle course a go, but purely tough love.

Logan was perfect for that.

-X-

As the training session came to an end, Scott watched as Warren collapsed on the ground beside Hank. Both were bruised and breathing heavily, especially after their sparring sessions with Logan who had pushed them well beyond their limits. Yet they had done well, enough so that Scott was even able to see a hint of approval in Logan's expression.

"Not bad. But don't think either of you are anywhere near ready," Logan said, his tone gruff but honest. "But keep that attitude and you might get somewhere."

"You both showed progress." Scott agreed. "This isn't just about individual strength or physical ability. This training is about learning your strengths and weaknesses, about adapting and pushing past what you think you're capable of."

Hank managed a nod of his head, his expression thoughtful yet a determination that had not been there previously shining in his eyes. He'd doubted his own strength and control, but today's session, rough as it was, had given him a glimpse of what he could achieve.

Warren meanwhile only managed a grunt of affirmation. His usual confidence had been tempered and in this one single session, he realised he had managed to learn more than he had anticipated. This session had certainly humbled him and yet, it didn't dishearten him but instead, he felt a determination to prove himself.