The war room was silent. The map of Serpent activity flickered in the background, but no one's eyes were on it. Every gaze was fixed on Delilah.
Jean stood at the head of the table, her voice soft but steady. "What happened in the Danger Room wasn't just raw talent. That was… elemental fury. We need to know, Delilah—what exactly are you?"
Delilah sat stiff in the chair, arms crossed over her chest. Mausgrau sat beside her, bristling at the suspicion in the room, but even she leaned in, waiting for the answer.
Delilah exhaled slowly, her eyes dimming from their usual glow.
"I wasn't born like this," she began, her voice low. "I was… created. Or maybe cursed."
Storm leaned forward, her expression unreadable. "What power do you wield?"
Delilah's gaze swept across the room, meeting each pair of eyes in turn—Cyclops' sharp, Logan's suspicious, Jean's probing. Finally, she spoke.
"I can control every element that exists. Fire, water, earth, air, light, shadow… even those beyond your science. And more than that…" She lifted a hand, reshaping her palm into steel, then glass, then flame before letting it return to flesh. "…I can turn everything into anything I choose."
A ripple of shock went through the room. Beast's glasses slid down his nose as he muttered, "Matter manipulation at will… the implications are staggering."
Cyclops' hand tightened into a fist. "With that kind of power, you could level cities. Worlds."
Logan's claws twitched. "Or worse. You could play god."
Delilah's lips curved into something bitter. "I already did."
Mausgrau flinched at that, turning to stare at her. Delilah's eyes softened slightly. "But I'm done with conquest. I just… I want to live. Maybe even protect. If you'll let me."
The silence was heavy. Then Jean finally spoke, her voice calm but carrying undeniable authority.
"Delilah… it isn't just about what you can do. It's about how you feel when you do it. Your powers are tied to your emotions. The fire tornado, the destruction—it wasn't precision. It was rage."
Delilah looked down at her hands, flexing them as though they weren't her own.
Jean stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. "If you want to stay here, if you want to fight with us, you need to learn one thing above all else."
Delilah's head lifted, her eyes wary. "What's that?"
Jean's expression softened, but her words carried weight like steel.
"You must learn to control your emotions… before your emotions control you."