Mutant School.
Not long after Richard learned that Trask Industries had developed the X-gene cure and would announce it publicly the next morning, Professor X received the same information.
While Charles Xavier did not possess Tony Stark's technological reach or corporate influence, he was far from uninformed. The Xavier family had been wealthy since World War II, deeply rooted in American high society. Over decades, though Charles himself showed little interest in business or politics, the family fortune and connections had only grown.
Discretion and legacy carried weight.
Once he confirmed the cure's existence, Professor X immediately summoned the core X-Men.
Underground base. Meeting room.
Seated at the head of the conference table, Charles calmly explained what was known about the X-gene cure—its purpose, its developer, and its potential impact. When he finished, he asked for their opinions.
Cyclops did not hesitate.
"The X-gene isn't a disease," Scott said firmly. "It doesn't need a cure. And we can't allow something like this to exist. Even if the government claims it's voluntary at first, they'll eventually force every mutant to take it. Just like the Mutant Restriction Act."
As captain of the X-Men, Scott had more direct dealings with federal officials than anyone except Charles. He understood their tone, their language—and their hidden intentions.
The meeting with Filippo Todd and Winston Lambert at the Department of Mutant Affairs was still fresh in his mind. The arrogance. The hostility. If Professor X hadn't intervened, Scott might have leveled the building himself.
Storm spoke next.
"I agree," she said evenly. "Given the government's history, mandatory injections are only a matter of time. If we act now, we control the situation. If we wait, we'll be reacting."
Jean naturally supported Scott's stance. Wolverine, as always when it came to Jean, supported her without question.
In front of others, Logan was a lone wolf. In front of Jean, he was something else entirely.
After listening to them all, Charles folded his hands and remained silent for several seconds.
"The cure may not be entirely negative," he said at last. "For mutants whose mutations are visible and whose abilities bring them only suffering, this may represent hope. We cannot deny them the right to choose."
He paused, voice firming slightly.
"But we must prevent coercion. I will investigate the source. Once I understand how and where it is produced, I will decide whether it must be destroyed—or controlled."
Scott was not surprised. He had expected as much.
Charles Xavier would never deny freedom of choice. Even if that freedom made him uncomfortable.
…
Brotherhood Headquarters.
Magneto received the same intelligence.
His reaction was immediate and absolute.
After Mystique finished her briefing, Erik issued a single order: stop the press conference.
To Charles, the cure represented a difficult moral dilemma.
To Magneto, it was genocide in chemical form.
Whether it killed mutants outright or stripped them of power was irrelevant. It erased what they were.
And any weapon aimed at mutantkind must be eliminated.
…
Silver Manor, New York suburbs.
Unlike Charles and Erik, Richard did not obsess over the cure itself.
He was watching Jean.
The system task still lingered in his mind.
Defeat Dark Phoenix.
Reward: True Devil Form.
There was no deadline.
But the trigger had to be close.
No one rejects greater power. Richard certainly didn't.
Late morning.
After nearly two hours of private "exercise" upstairs, Richard and the White Queen sat down for lunch in the manor's dining hall.
"I'll head to the school later," Richard said casually. "I'm bringing Clarice back here."
"Mm," Emma replied smoothly, showing no displeasure whatsoever.
If anything, she understood the practical necessity. She had no illusions about exclusivity—and frankly, she appreciated assistance.
Richard returned his focus to the food.
Since moving into the manor, he had hired several high-end Chinese chefs. Not masters of every regional cuisine, but more than capable of satisfying daily cravings.
After lunch, he went to his study and searched for information about Trask Industries.
In the films, the cure came from Worthington Labs.
Here, it was Trask.
Bolivar Trask still founded the company. He still created Sentinels. But the timeline of Days of Future Past clearly did not apply here.
Public information was limited, but Richard didn't need more.
He teleported.
Mutant School.
He had intended to notify Professor X briefly and then retrieve Clarice.
Instead, Charles requested a conversation.
"When did you learn about the cure?" Charles asked.
"This morning," Richard replied.
"And what do you intend to do?"
"Nothing," Richard said evenly. "Whether the cure exists or not doesn't change my principles. I don't offend others unless they offend me. If someone believes a vial of serum gives them leverage over me, I'll correct that misunderstanding."
Charles studied him for a moment.
"I have something else to ask of you."
Richard raised an eyebrow.
"If something happens to me," Charles said carefully, "I want you to meet someone."
The tone was solemn.
"Who?" Richard asked.
"I cannot tell you yet. If the time comes, you will receive a letter. Read it. Then you'll understand."
Richard's mind flickered with a possibility.
Illuminati?
He wasn't certain that organization even existed in this world. But if it did, Charles would be connected.
"If such a letter arrives," Richard said calmly, "I'll go."
Charles nodded, visibly relieved.
After leaving the office, Richard found Clarice chatting on the lawn behind the main building.
She lit up when she saw him.
"Why are you here? Did you come for me?"
"I did," he said. "You're coming back to the manor."
She blinked.
"Did something happen?"
"We'll talk after we leave," he replied. "Pack what you need."
She asked for time to say goodbye.
He waited on a nearby bench.
About ten minutes later, two familiar figures approached.
Bobby Drake.
Rogue.
Though they had never met formally, Richard recognized them instantly.
Bobby hesitated awkwardly. Rogue stepped forward instead.
"Mr. Wesley," she said shyly, "we're big fans. Could we take a photo?"
"Drop the 'Mr.'" Richard replied with a faint smile. "I'm not that old."
He stood.
Bobby didn't look particularly enthusiastic, but Rogue beamed as she handed him her phone. They took several photos—first alone, then together.
Before leaving, Rogue produced a notebook.
"Could you sign this?"
"Of course."
He wrote his name, then looked at them.
"You're Bobby and Rogue. Your abilities are stronger than you think."
Rogue frowned faintly.
"Bobby's is. Mine just makes everything complicated. Sometimes I wish I didn't have it."
Richard understood immediately.
Like in the films, she might choose the cure voluntarily.
From his perspective, that would be a mistake.
But it wasn't his place to interfere.
Respect the fate of others.
They thanked him and left.
Shortly after, Clarice returned with a suitcase.
Without hesitation, Richard wrapped an arm around her waist.
Teleportation.
They vanished.
Silver Manor.
Reception hall.
Clarice barely had time to adjust before she saw Emma Frost standing there in a white fitted skirt that accentuated every curve.
Clarice slowly turned to look at Richard, eyes wide with disbelief.
.....
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