Aurora sat alone in the quiet of the X-Mansion's library, the faint glow of the moon spilling across rows of ancient books. Her hands trembled as she stared at them—hands that weren't hers anymore, not really. Sometimes she saw Storm's lightning sparking at her fingertips, other times she swore she felt Logan's claws itching beneath her skin.
It felt like she was losing herself, piece by piece, to fragments of others.
She pressed her palms against her head, her breath ragged. What if I hurt someone? What if I lose control again? What if I stop being me?
"Aurora?" Miles' voice cut through the spiral of thoughts. He stood at the doorway, arms crossed, worry etched into his face. "You disappeared after training. You okay?"
She wanted to say yes. Instead, she whispered, "I don't know who I am anymore."
Miles stepped closer, sitting across from her. "You're Aurora. The girl who pulled me out of the way of a robot hand. The one who stood against Sentinels her first day. That's who you are."
She shook her head. "No, you don't get it. Every time I'm near someone, I feel… pieces of them. Their movements, their strength, their instincts. It's not just copying—it's like they start living inside me. And the more I use it, the harder it is to tell where I end and they begin."
Her voice cracked. "What if I wake up one day and I'm not Aurora at all? Just… echoes of everyone else?"
Miles was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, softly, "Then maybe that's your challenge. Not to lose yourself—but to prove that Aurora can hold it all together when no one else can."
His words hung heavy, but warm. For the first time, she didn't feel entirely alone in her storm.
---
The next morning, Professor Xavier summoned her to his study. His calm eyes studied her as if he had already heard every thought in her head.
"Aurora," he began, "your power unsettles you. That much is clear. But you misunderstand its true nature."
She clenched her fists. "All I do is take from others. It's dangerous—"
"No," Xavier interrupted gently. "You don't take. You reflect. You are not a thief of abilities. You are a mirror—one that adapts, responds, and remembers. You can copy any power, any fighting style, not just through touch, but through thought—through focus. But the cost is clear: you must also master yourself, or be drowned in the reflections."
Aurora froze. "Through… thought?"
"Yes." Xavier leaned forward, his tone kind but firm. "You need only think of a person, and your body will answer with what they are capable of. That is why your potential is limitless—and why your discipline must be absolute."
Aurora's heart pounded. Limitless. The word terrified her as much as it thrilled her.
She lowered her gaze, whispering, "What if I can't control it?"
Xavier smiled faintly. "Then we will help you until you can. Because every storm finds its calm, Aurora. Even yours."
For the first time, she allowed herself to hope.