"You're in a bad spot," Luke said simply. It wasn't judgmental or dramatic—just a statement of fact. After hearing everything, there was no other conclusion to reach.
Charles watched him closely. The reaction mattered more than the words. Luke wasn't shocked, or angry, or dismissive. There was something steadier there—understanding, maybe even sympathy. Not pity.
That alone set him apart from most people Charles had spoken to.
Charles folded his hands lightly in his lap. He didn't rush the next words. He'd learned long ago that asking for help the wrong way could close doors forever.
"So… if I may be presumptuous," he said at last, voice calm and measured, "would you consider helping us?"
He met Luke's eyes directly. " The situation for mutants is deteriorating faster than we can respond. With your help… we might be able to change that. Or at least survive long enough to try."
"Hmmm. The weak don't deserve the right to live. If they die, it only proves they were weak."
Esdeath said it casually, like she was commenting on the weather.
For a second, the room didn't go tense.
It went… weird.
Blink blinked. Once. Twice. "…Did she just—"
Logan tilted his head, squinting at Esdeath like he was trying to decide whether this was a joke. "Kid, that's some caveman-level logic."
Even Charles paused, fingers resting lightly on the arm of his chair, expression thoughtful rather than angry. More confused than offended.
Luke sighed. Long and tired.
"Yeah, that tracks," he muttered. "That's her default setting."
Esdeath looked around at them, genuinely puzzled. "Is that not obvious? The world rewards strength. Those who fail simply weren't fit to remain."
Blink frowned. "That's… not how society works."
Esdeath tilted her head slightly. "Then your society is inefficient."
Logan let out a short huff. "So what, kids, elderly, sick people—just write them off?"
"If they cannot protect themselves," Esdeath replied calmly.
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ignore that. She… lacks the empathy module."
"About your request—I can help. Not with everything, but with some things," Luke said. "And I think the reason I'm here, and the problem you're facing, might be connected."
"Six months ago," Luke continued, "something changed. Not just politically. Not just socially. Too sudden. Too coordinated."
He met Charles's eyes. "That kind of shift doesn't happen on its own."
In his mind, the answer was already taking shape.
Avatar of Corruption.
Charles let out a quiet breath, relief faint but genuine.
"Then thank you," Charles said. "That alone gives us something we've been lacking for a long time—hope."
He turned slightly toward Logan. "Logan, show them a room. Somewhere comfortable."
There was already more on Charles's mind—mutants to recall, plans to reassess. He didn't yet know the limits of Luke's abilities. But with that vast spiritual presence, Charles was certain Luke possessed abilities far beyond the norm.
As they prepared to leave, Charles paused, looking between the two of them. "One more thing," he added politely. "Are you a couple? If not, I can arrange separate rooms."
Esdeath answered before Luke could even open his mouth. She wrapped herself around his arm, pressing close with obvious ownership.
"Yes," she said simply.
***
"So what happened to the mansion?" Luke asked as they walked down the corridor behind Logan.
Logan didn't slow his pace. "Blown up. Six months ago. Clean hit."
Luke glanced at the reinforced walls, the sealed doors, the humming generators buried deep beneath layers of concrete and steel. "So this place is a fallback."
"Yeah," Logan replied. "Built back when people thought nuclear war was the worst thing that could happen. Turns out humans are more creative than that."
Luke nodded once. Retreat, not bankruptcy.
After a few steps of silence, Logan looked sideways at him. "So," he said, "what kind of mutant are you?"
Luke shrugged lightly. "I'm not a mutant."
Logan stopped walking.
Luke continued calmly, "But I'm not human either. Think of it as… something else."
Logan turned fully now, eyes narrowing as he studied Luke more carefully, senses clearly digging for something they couldn't quite pin down. "That's not much of an answer."
"It's the honest one," Luke replied. "And probably the safest version."
Logan grunted, unconvinced but not pressing further. "Yeah," he muttered, starting to walk again. "You're definitely not normal."
Luke followed without hurry. "If I were normal, I wouldn't be standing here," he said. Then, after a brief pause, "By the way… do you have someone named Jean Grey here?"
He didn't say it out loud, but the thought lingered.
If Jean Grey exists in this timeline, then he has to be careful.
The Phoenix Force wasn't just powerful—it was a cosmic nuclear bomb with a heartbeat. Stable when dormant, catastrophic when pushed. One wrong trigger, one emotional collapse, and it wouldn't stop at cities or nations.
It would burn everything.
Yeah, this world is already fragile enough. It can't afford that variable exploding.
Logan stopped this time.
He turned slowly, eyes sharp, posture tightening just a little. "How do you know that name?"
Luke didn't look away. "One of my abilities lets me catch fragments. Past. Future. Pieces that shouldn't line up." He shrugged. "Same way I know you're over a hundred years old—and where those metal claws came from."
For a moment, Logan just stared at him.
"…Yeah," he said finally. "There's definitely more to you than meets the eye."
He resumed walking, more alert now, leading them down another stretch of corridor before stopping at a reinforced door. He keyed it open and gestured inside.
"This is your room. It's secure. Quiet. As much as anything is down here."
Logan added, half-turning away, "If you want a beer later, I'll be in the canteen."
That was about as warm a welcome as Logan ever gave.
Then he walked off, boots echoing down the corridor, leaving Luke and Esdeath behind.
*****
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