Westchester, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
This place was once a sanctuary far from the madding crowd, with lush green lawns and a quiet old castle. But today, this tranquility was brutally shattered by the urgent roar of an engine.
A heavily damaged Audi R8, trailing black smoke, screeched to a halt in front of the ornate iron gate.
The car door swung open, and Tony stumbled out. His expensive suit was already wrinkled and oil-stained, his face bore two deep dark circles, and his stubble was messy. There was no trace of a billionaire's elegance left.
He looked exactly like a homeless man who had just escaped from a refugee camp.
"Jarvis, scan the surroundings..."
Tony instinctively reached for the communicator by his ear, but found nothing.
Damn it! The communication network was already a mess, and Jarvis's main servers were backed up in Wakanda.
"No need to scan, Mr. Stark."
A cold voice, filled with strong repulsion, sounded from inside the iron gate.
A man wearing red quartz goggles stood there, hands in his pockets, looking coldly.
Scott Summers, codenamed Cyclops.
"A rare guest."
Scott's lips curved into a sarcastic smile as he looked at the disheveled Tony through the iron gate.
"Normally, you high and mighty Avengers look down on us mutant freaks, don't you?"
"What? Now that the blonde devil has flattened Washington and you can't handle it, you remember us?"
The long-suppressed resentment was almost palpable.
Tony took a deep breath, suppressing the anxiety in his heart. He knew about the conflict between mutants and the human government, but now was not the time to argue.
"Listen, Cyclops."
Tony gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse. "The past is the past, and now is now. That monster named Frieza won't differentiate between a mutant and an ordinary person."
"In his eyes, we are all one thing — slaves, or dead men."
"I need Professor Charles's help. All of humanity needs it."
"Ha!"
Scott scoffed dismissively, as if he had heard a joke, even placing his hand on the edge of his goggles.
"Humanity? What does that have to do with us?"
"Even if Earth is controlled by Frieza, what then? Maybe it's a good thing for mutants. At least he won't discriminate against Mutants, because in his eyes, everyone is equally rotten."
"Since you self-proclaimed righteous guys are all doomed, why should we go down with you?"
As he spoke, Scott's finger was already on the switch of his goggles, and red light surged wildly behind the lenses.
"Get lost, Stark. Before I change my mind and cut your broken car in half."
Tony's fists clenched suddenly, and the miniature arc reactor in his palm began to charge.
Just at this tense moment, on the verge of internal conflict—
"Enough, Scott."
A gentle, wise, yet undeniable voice echoed directly in both their minds.
Scott's hand, pressing on his goggles, froze.
That was Professor X, Charles Xavier's voice.
"Let him in. At a time like this, we don't need to act on impulse."
Scott gritted his teeth unwillingly, but he could not defy the Professor's command.
Creak—
The heavy iron gate slowly opened.
"Go in." Scott coldly moved aside.
"Professor is waiting for you in the study."
Tony let out a sigh of relief, the feeling of walking a tightrope on a cliff making his back sweat.
He walked through the corridor to the familiar, old-fashioned study.
The sound of a wheelchair turning was heard.
The bald Professor Charles was pushed out by Jean Grey. His eyes were still as deep as the sea, as if they could encompass all the suffering in the world.
"Long time no see, Stark."
Charles smiled slightly, pointing to the sofa opposite. "Sit down, you look terrible."
"Compared to my terrible appearance, the world's situation is even worse."
Tony didn't sit down, his anxiety made him unable to sit still.
He fumbled in his arms for a tablet, his fingers rapidly tapping.
"Professor, I know you can read minds, but I must show you something. These are images captured by satellites. Although the government tried its best to block them, S.H.I.E.L.D. kept backups."
"Frieza crushed the alien mothership in space like an ant. And that strike..."
Tony's fingers trembled.
"You must see with your own eyes the image of that strike that sliced through the North American continent."
"No need, my child."
Charles gently raised his hand, stopping Tony's action.
His wise eyes looked at Tony, and he gently tapped his own temple. "In your mind, I have already seen it all."
Buzz—
An invisible psychic wave swept through.
Not just Tony, but Jean standing next to him, Storm, and even Wolverine, who had just walked in, all instantly saw those hellish scenes in their minds.
The chasm that spanned the continent.
Washington, instantly vaporized.
And the blonde man suspended in the air, elegantly and cruelly pronouncing the world's death sentence.
"My God..."
Ororo, Storm, covered her mouth, her eyes filled with terror.
Logan, Wolverine, dropped his cigar to the ground, and for the first time, deep apprehension appeared in his beastly eyes, which had never feared even a nuclear bomb.
"This... this is beyond the scope of mutant abilities." Jean felt that power, and the Phoenix Force within her even stirred with a hint of uneasy agitation.
"Not only that."
Seeing everyone's reactions, Tony knew the timing was right. He gritted his teeth and dropped the final bombshell.
"Professor, I know you have always been dedicated to protecting mutants. But..."
"That monster is humiliating your own kind."
Tony took a deep breath, recalling the images Jarvis had intercepted through hacking in that building.
Since the Professor could read minds, let him see it all.
At that instant.
In Charles's mind, a scene appeared that shattered his worldview.
In the brightly lit training room of Frieza's tower, Erik, who was once so arrogant and vowed to make humanity submit, now wore a ridiculous white and purple leotard, with two pointed horns on his shoulders, striking twisted poses like a circus clown.
And next to him, Apocalypse, the self-proclaimed oldest and most powerful mutant progenitor, was actually doing the same movements.
Standing on one leg, hands on his hips, with a forced, fanatical smile that looked worse than crying.
He was even shouting a slogan.
"We are—the Ginyu Force!"
Crack.
Charles's hands, gripping the armrests of his wheelchair, turned white from excessive force.
That was Erik.
He was his lifelong best friend, and his lifelong nemesis.
Erik, who was proud to the bone, who would never bow his head even in the face of missile bombardment.
Now he was actually wagging his tail like a dog at the feet of that blonde devil? And even dancing this... this indecent dance?
This was not just an insult to Erik. This was trampling the dignity of the entire mutant populace into the ground, crushing it with a heel.
"Have they... for survival, even abandoned their dignity?"
Charles's voice trembled, a desolation born of profound heartbreak.
If even powerhouses of Erik and Apocalypse's caliber were tormented to such a state, then once Frieza truly ruled Earth, the future of mutants, the future of those children... would only be hell.
"Professor!" Tony stepped forward, his tone urgent.
"Frieza is almost invincible on a physical level. Even the Hulk and Thor were played with like toys by him."
"But what about on a mental level?"
"You possess the strongest brain in the world. If there's anyone who can control that monster, even for just one second, it's only you."
The entire study fell silent.
All eyes were on the old man in the wheelchair.
After a long while, Charles slowly closed his eyes, and two clear tears slid down his cheeks.
When he opened his eyes again, the compassion was gone, replaced by an unprecedented determination and sharpness.
"You are right, Stark."
"This war is not for humanity, nor for the government."
"This is for the future of the children, for the last dignity of mutants."
Charles turned his wheelchair to face the window, his voice echoing through telepathy in the minds of every X-Men.
"Notify everyone."
"X-Men, assemble."