Rogue Replacement: A Marvel Story

Date: Monday, June 7, 2010.

Location: Xavier Institute, Scarsdale, NY.

Tyson stared blankly at the tray before him. The cafeteria of the Xavier Institute was calm, most students had yet to stir from their sleep. The early morning light streamed in from the large windows, illuminating the wooden tables and the few people seated at them.

"What are you thinking about?" Jean asked softly, breaking the silence.

Tyson looked up. "Just the week I've had.” He smirked. "You could say that. It's been... eventful."

Jean’s red hair cascaded down her back as she leaned in, her fiery green eyes narrowing with genuine interest and curiosity. "Tyson, you're a bit of an enigma here. I can't peer into your thoughts. While I enjoy the quiet you bring, I’m curious about what’s going on in your head."

Tyson hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he recollected. "On Wednesday, I woke up in the back of a truck, somewhere up in the cold wilderness of Canada." He paused, drawing a deep breath. "Didn’t even know I had powers till I touched someone. I absorbed their life force. Ended up in a cage fight with Logan and realized I could absorb his ability as well."

Jean gently said, "You're not the only one here who's felt lost or out of place. Not having complete memories or control over our powers... it's something many of us have struggled with."

Tyson's eyes, usually bright and curious, were shadowed as he shared his tale. His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word echoed with gravity. "The day after the cage fight... Sabertooth came for me." His eyes momentarily darkened. "I ended up... taking his life. Now, every memory, every dark impulse of his, it's all lodged in my mind. Sometimes, it feels like I'm losing myself in his past."

Jean's green eyes focused on him intently, her brow furrowed with concern. In that comforting, measured tone she often had, she said, "You did what you had to for survival. Sabertooth was dangerous."

Tyson shook his head, "No, Jean. He didn’t want to kill me. They wanted to capture me, for some reason. But when I touched him, I couldn't separate myself from his instincts. I went too far."

Jean hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "We all have moments where our powers take control and we act out of fear or instinct. It doesn't define who we are. It's what we learn from it and how we move forward that matters."

Tyson looked at her, his gaze searching for reassurance. "But I still can't control. And Professor X doesn’t think I’ll ever be able to. What if he’s right?"

With a gentle firmness, Jean replied, "You're here at the Xavier Institute for a reason. We'll help you. We learn and grow together."

Tyson's expression was weary, "On Friday, just as I thought the week couldn't get any crazier, I got banished to Limbo during a basketball game." He paused, letting out a breath, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of the chaotic events. "Illyana found me as I was battling a demon. The whole realm was invaded. We found the source, the devil, Azazel. Together, we managed to force him to retreat."

Jean's face darkened momentarily, memories of that day coming back to her. When she realized Illyana had taken Tyson to Limbo, her emotions spiraled, fearing for the safety of her friend. She'd momentarily lost control, an overwhelming surge of her power erupting. But, she pushed those memories aside and focused on Tyson. Meeting his eyes with her intense, yet compassionate gaze, Jean said, "You and Illyana drove Azazel off. That, to me, is a victory."

Tyson grinned back, "True." he continued, "That was just the beginning. Saturday should have been simple. You were there. We were supposed to go see the NBA finals, get some signatures, and enjoy the game. But instead..." He swallowed hard, the weight of the memory evident in his eyes. "It was a setup. Magneto was waiting. Facing him... it felt like trying to withstand a force of nature. I genuinely believed it was the end for me."

Jean's gaze was steady, her eyes filled with understanding and empathy. She wanted to ask Tyson about the level of power he demonstrated while using her ability, but she didn’t need empathy to see Tyson’s inner turmoil. Instead, she paused before she responded calmly, "Tyson, every battle we face, every challenge thrown our way, it's an opportunity to grow. Remember, Magneto might be formidable, but the fact that you held your ground against him speaks volumes. It wasn't the end. You're still here, with me, sharing your story."

Tyson met Jean's eyes, finding solace in their depths. "It's hard to see past what happened."

With a soft, reassuring smile, Jean replied, "That's why we're here for each other. To remind one another of the hope and strength we possess, even when we can't see it ourselves."

The hum of the Xavier Institute slowly came to life around them. After his time of introspection passed, Tyson smiled and said, "All in all, I'd say my record for the week is 2-1-1. Not a bad start, eh?" He smiled weakly, "2 wins, Sabertooth and Azazel. 1 loss to Wolverine. And a draw against Magneto. Quite the week, huh?"

Jean smiled back, her eyes twinkling. "3 wins if you count the blue woman… Just another week at the Xavier Institute."

Tyson looked around the cafeteria. More students were arriving, and the ambiance was filled with conversations, laughing, or studying. Jubilee joined them, taking a seat with her breakfast tray.

Tyson muttered to himself but loud enough for Jubilee, who sat across from him, to hear, "This week's gotta be better, right?"

Jubilee, with her signature yellow jacket, looked up from her food and raised an eyebrow. "That’s the kiss of death, Tyson," she remarked, half-jokingly. "You know you can’t say stuff like that! The karma gods are watching."

Tyson chuckled, despite himself. "Come on, Jubes. After everything that's happened, things have to start looking up."

Jubilee smirked, twirling a spark of fireworks around her fingers, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Every time I've said something like that, something bizarre happens."

Jean spoke up, "Do you remember today's schedule?" She brushed a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "We're starting with Physics, so make sure you've got your notes. P.E. is right after. And, Tyson?" She looked at him pointedly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Try to keep both feet in our dimension this time."

Jubilee snorted, "Yeah, avoid any interdimensional portals on the court, okay?"

Jean, holding back a laugh, continued, "And don’t forget, we have Psychic class today. I expect you to be there this time. Last time class was canceled because of the Limbo incident."

Tyson cleared his throat, "Understood, Mom, I mean, ma’am."

For Tyson, Physics was a lost cause. The board was filled with Professor X's neat handwriting detailing formulas and principles. He tried to concentrate, but the words seemed like an indecipherable puzzle. Seeing his struggle, Jean, seated next to him, whispered, "Don't worry. We all have off days."

"Days…” He snorted humorlessly.

When the bell signaled the end of Physics, Tyson was the first out the door, ready for P.E. Scott, with his signature red glasses, was already setting up for basketball.

"All right, split up into teams! Illyana, and Tyson, same team today. Let’s keep it civil please." Scott commanded his voice firm but fair.

Illyana caught Tyson's eye and motioned for him to join her side. The game played out without incident, and the students dispersed, ready for their next class. Tyson's anticipation grew as he approached the room for Psychic class.

At the front sat Professor X, a gentle smile on his face. "Welcome, students. Hello, Tyson, this is where we learn to explore and master our innermost abilities."

As the students settled down, Tyson felt the weight of the challenge ahead. He anticipated Psychic class would be difficult because he didn’t have any psychic abilities.

As the students settled down on their mats, Professor X wheeled himself to the center of the room. "Today," he began, "we will journey into the depths of our subconscious through meditation."

Jean, whispered to Tyson, "Are you ready for this?"

Tyson shrugged, "Not expecting much."

With a nod, Professor X began. "Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. In... and out..."

As they all complied, the atmosphere changed. It felt like a warm, protective cocoon enveloped them. That was Professor X's doing, of course, using his powers to heighten their meditative experience.

"Imagine a door," Professor X continued, "It’s the door to your innermost mind. Walk towards it and open it."

One by one, the students found themselves stepping into personalized rooms within their minds. For Tyson, it was a vast, white room, a blank canvas of sorts. He looked down at himself. He was back to his average build, the way he remembered himself before all the transformations and battles. It was how he looked when he woke up in the back of that truck. But minus the painful signs of malnourishment. But the room wasn't empty. Two figures stood in front of him. One, a menacing presence.

Sabertooth. His feral eyes were locked onto Tyson.

The other was unexpected. A figure with haunted, hazel eyes. She wore long gloves that extended to her elbows as a guard against the dangerous gift she bore. She exuded an aura of vulnerability; surrounded by a tangible air of tragedy and heartbreak.

Ann Marie. Rogue.

Sabertooth growled, "You thought you could defeat me?"

Rogue wore her melancholy, her voice was heavy as she made a simple declaration, “We killed him.”

Tyson asked skeptically, "What do you both want?"

Sabertooth smirked, his fangs crept over his lips, "To remind you of your weakness. All your strength comes from me. Without me, you’re nothing."

Rogue stepped back, placing more physical distance between herself and the others in the room. She began speaking but suddenly the room echoed, almost like a knock on his subconscious. The stark whiteness morphed into a swirling vortex of memories, fears, hopes, and dreams.

~~ Rogue Replacement ~~

Back in the classroom, it was the end of the period. At Xavier’s announcement, students began to stir from their meditations. Yet, Tyson remained unmoving. As he sensed the whirlwind of emotions within Tyson's psyche, he paused. Charles Xavier approached the metaphorical door that stood as a barrier to Tyson's deepest subconscious.

Professor X gently whispered, "It's time to return, Tyson. Remember, your mind is a realm where you have the power." He gave the psychic equivalent of a knock at the door.

Charles waited. Moments turned to minutes, and finally, he sensed Tyson's consciousness receding. He flew through the door like he was being sucked through a drain; pulling away from this inner sanctum and not even noticing Xavier as he moved toward the waking world.

Professor X looked in and saw the others inside his subconscious. Sabertooth looking menacing, and a girl looking meek. Their visages were as solid as Tyson’s himself. But in Xavier’s experience, that should be impossible. Phantom recreations of objects and memories were commonly present in the subconscious.

Not completely realized personalities.

And certainly not ones just as vivid as the original. Even in the cases of schizophrenia or ‘multiple personality disorder’, Xavier hadn’t seen anything like this before.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He reached out and gently closed the door. Then, from his pocket, he produced an ethereal key. Inserting it into the door's handle, he turned it with a soft, almost inaudible click.

He locked the door.

At least for now, Tyson’s subconscious would be beyond his reach. He did this not to imprison Tyson's psyche, but to give the young man time, to offer a respite. Charles hoped that, in due course, Tyson would find the strength to face and tame his inner voices. But until that time, this door would remain a bulwark against those… things inside.

In the real world, Tyson's eyes snapped open, frustration clouded his features as he found himself back in the classroom. He abruptly stood, drawing the attention of his classmates.

Blue eyes looked at him with concern. Jean reached out gently. "Tyson?"

"I need more time," he burst out with desperation. "I barely got to find anything out. Just when things were becoming clearer, I was forced to come back."

Professor X's calm voice broke through, "Tyson, please sit."

With a heavy sigh, Tyson complied.

"Understanding oneself is not a race," the Professor said gently. "It's a continuous journey, one that often doesn't have a clear destination."

Tyson's gaze was downcast. "I felt so close to answers, to some understanding."

Jean, her voice soft, added, "We all feel that way sometimes, Tyson. It's part of this journey we're on."

Professor X wheeled himself closer, meeting Tyson's gaze directly. "Your mind is vast and multi-faceted. The path of control, of self-discovery, is not one you can complete in a single class or session. It's about patience, persistence, and embracing every step, no matter how small."

~~ Rogue Replacement ~~

On Wednesday, amidst the usual midday chatter of the cafeteria, there was a distinct shift in the atmosphere at Tyson’s table. This had happened only once before, and Tyson suspected a similar cause. He looked up and as expected, Illyana approached. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down in loose waves, shimmering with every confident step she took. A silver choker necklace rested on her collarbone, and her black leather jacket draped effortlessly over her shoulders.

Jean and Jubilee stopped mid-conversation. Both their eyes widened, their words tapering off.

"Hey," Illyana greeted her focus locked onto Tyson.

"Hello, Illyana," Tyson replied, slightly curious.

Jean and Jubilee exchanged glances, uncertain of what to expect next.

"Are you free this evening?" Illyana inquired, her tone casual but with an underlying hint of anticipation.

Jubilee’s eyes widened with surprise. "Wait, are you asking him on a date?" she asked incredulously.

A flash of annoyance crossed Illyana’s face, but it was quickly replaced as a playful smirk tugged at her lips. "Maybe I am," she replied coyly, her gaze never leaving Tyson's.

Tyson hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. "Yeah, I'm free," he finally responded, trying to sound nonchalant.

Illyana's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Great. I'll come by your room at 8 then," she stated. With a final, lingering look at Tyson, she turned and sauntered away, leaving the trio in a state of stunned silence.

Jubilee blurted out, "I can't believe that just happened!" Her eyes darted from Jean to Tyson, her disbelief evident. "And you're just going along with it?"

Tyson nodded, a little defensive, "Yeah, I am."

"But why?" Jubilee pressed, her hands animatedly emphasizing her words. She knew Tyson was different after what he'd shared about his fight with Magneto, but this was unexpected.

Tyson turned to his friend. "Weren't you the one who said it wasn't about the physical? I can't touch Illyana, just like I can't touch anyone else. What's the harm in getting to know her? Maybe there's more to her than we think."

Jubilee bit her lip and retorted, "Don't use my own words against me," She blurted out, "I didn't mean with her…" Her eyes widened in realization at what she'd just said. She swiftly covered her mouth with her hand, mortified. "Uh, I mean, that's not what I meant!"

Tyson struggled to suppress a grin. "Are you jealous, Jubie?" he teased, emphasizing the pet name.

Jubilee's face turned an even deeper shade of red. The playful nickname from him threw her off balance. "I—What? No! I'm not... I just—" she stammered, flustered.

Seeing her genuine embarrassment, Tyson softened his teasing tone. "Hey," he began gently, "Would it make you feel better if I came by to play games with you?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes, and without much thought, blurted out, "Yes!"

Tyson chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, and Jubilee buried her face in her hands, trying to hide her blush.

Tyson followed Jean and Jubilee through the winding hallways of the Xavier Institute. They finally arrived at a door that swung open to reveal a spacious room that seemed to embody both girls' personalities. Jean's side was immaculately organized, with neatly stacked books, a minimalist desk, and delicate touches of decor like small potted plants and softly glowing fairy lights. In stark contrast, Jubilee's side was a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors; posters of pop bands and action movies plastered the wall, a small explosion of clothes and accessories strewn about, and a comfy-looking beanbag chair positioned perfectly in front of a large TV screen.

Shelves holding an array of video game consoles and stacks of games indicated that this was Jubilee's gaming area. As Tyson took in the vivid details, the distinct aroma of vanilla filled his nostrils.

"So," Tyson started, trying to sound casual as he examined the surroundings, "what do you want to play?"

Jubilee, with a twinkle in her eye, handed him a game case. "Red Dead Redemption," she said with a grin. "It's brand new, just came out last month. You up for giving it a try?"

Tyson glanced at the game cover, nodding appreciatively. "Sounds like a plan," he replied, his curiosity piqued.

Tyson tilted his head, smirking slightly as he held up the game controller, "So, how do you want to do this? Do you want to go first, or should I take the lead? It's my first time, after all." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, having fun with the innuendo.

Jubilee rolled her eyes, her lips curving into a half-smile, half-grimace. "You're impossible," she muttered, trying to stifle her laughter. "You’re such a dork. It's single-player.”

He winked, handing her the controller. "Kidding. Go ahead, Jubie. I'll just sit back and enjoy the show. I like to watch." He lounged back on the beanbag, a mischievous grin on his face, ready for their gaming session to begin.

Jubilee shot a sly look at Jean, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Jean likes to watch too, you know," she teased, her grin widening.

Jean's face flushed a shade of pink, and she playfully threw a cushion at Jubilee. "Jubie! Don't drag me into your nonsense," she exclaimed, feigning exasperation but failing to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Tyson chuckled, raising an eyebrow at Jean. "A voyeur?" he jokingly asked.

Jean shook her head, laughing. "You two are impossible."

~~ Rogue Replacement ~~

As the evening wore on, Tyson found himself completely engrossed in the world of Red Dead Redemption. Not just in the game, but in Jubilee's animated narration and hilarious commentary as she maneuvered her character through the wild landscapes of the Old West. She had an uncanny knack for bringing the game to life as her hands deftly moved over the controller. Jean occasionally chimed in, and the room was filled with their shared laughter, groans of frustration, and shouts of triumph. For Tyson, it was an oasis of fun in a world that had shown him its darker sides all too often.

However, as the clock's hands inched past seven, Tyson became acutely aware of the time. "I should probably head out," he said, rising from the beanbag. "Need to get cleaned up before Illyana arrives."

Jubilee paused the game and looked up at him, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly masked it with a playful pout. "Ditching me for the witch, huh?" she teased, but her tone was light.

Tyson gave her a soft smile, "Thanks for letting me hang, Jubie."

She grinned, nudging him playfully. "Anytime. Just remember who you hung out with first.”

Tyson stood in front of the mirror, squeezing a towel around his damp hair as it dried. He glanced down at his reflection; he was wearing the identical sweatpants and shirt he'd been given when he arrived at the institute. A soft sigh escaped his lips, realizing he needed to do some shopping soon, or at the very least, ask someone where he could get more suitable clothes.

He glanced at the digital clock on his desk. 7:59. Just a minute to go.

At 8:03, there was a gentle knock on his door. Tyson felt a brief jolt of anticipation, mixed with a tinge of nervousness. He idly wondered if she was a few minutes late on purpose, making him wait a few minutes as a power move or to make him feel more desperate. He was probably reading into it too much, but It was hard to tell with Illyana.

Opening the door, he was met with the striking figure of Illyana Rasputin. Her long, straight blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders; her bangs hid her forehead creating her signature look. She wore a black leather jacket, zipped halfway to reveal a white top underneath. Dark jeans clung to her tall, lean frame, and a pair of combat boots completed her outfit. Her piercing blue eyes assessed him. Resting on her back within a scabbard was her Soulsword. The weapon's eldritch glow was subdued but it was unmistakable even in its sheath. Despite her 'normal' attire, that sword was a stark reminder of her otherworldly abilities.

She raised an eyebrow as her gaze briefly swept over his sweats. "Ready to go?" she asked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Seeing as you brought a sword," he started cautiously, "I'm assuming this isn't an actual date? And a scabbard? I thought that thing just magically appeared."

Illyana, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, stepped closer. Her fingers settled on his shoulder, gently pushing him a step backward into his room. The door closed with a soft click behind her. "I assumed you knew that based on how you're dressed. But, it's a date," she said, her Russian accent adding a layer of mystery to her tone. "It's a date like none you've ever been on before."

Before Tyson could fully process her words, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. With a flourish of her hand, Illyana conjured a swirling portal in the very center of the room. Its edges were framed with shimmering blue and gold, like flames frozen in time. From the depths of the portal came the distant sound of growls and the distant clatter of chains. Shadows writhed, hinting at the nightmarish realm that lay beyond.

"A date where we slay demons," Illyana proclaimed. The excitement in her eyes was palpable.

He straightened his posture and looked Illyana in the eyes. His voice was playful yet carried a teasing undertone, "Don't forget your promise."

Illyana's blue eyes sparkled with mischief and something more alluring. She glided toward him, her boots clicked softly against the floor. As she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers dancing lightly over the fabric of his shirt, careful not to touch his skin. Leaning in, Illyana's face drew dangerously close to Tyson. Her eyes held his, intense and piercing. Her lips parted slightly, and he could feel the warm breath she exhaled, teasingly tickling his mouth. The space between them was charged with anticipation, the air thick with tension.

With her voice barely above a whisper, sultry and dripping with seduction, Illyana murmured, "I didn’t forget… I have my sword. Just like you asked." She let the words linger for a moment, allowing Tyson's mind to race.

The promise in her tone was evident, and the seductive game she played was clear. Tyson was ready to embark on his quest. “Fuck it. Let’s kill some demons.”