A week later.
The door to Charles's office wasn't fully closed, and the sound of an argument spilled into the hallway.
"You can't do this, Erik." Charles's voice was tight.
"Then tell me—what has peace ever gotten us?" Erik's voice was like ice. "Humans will never accept us. You build this school, teach these children to control their abilities—and then what? Teach them to bow their heads?"
"I'm teaching them how to survive."
"No. You're teaching them how to kneel."
The door swung open. Erik walked out, his face dark. He glanced at Hang in the hallway, said nothing, and headed straight downstairs.
Hang pushed the door open and walked in.
Charles sat in his wheelchair, fingers pressed against his temple.
"Come in."
"Erik's leaving?" Hang closed the door.
"Yes." Charles lowered his hand. "He thinks I'm too soft."
"What do you think?"
"He believes slaughter can bring peace. All it will do is ensure hatred never ends."
Hang didn't respond. The war between mutants and humans didn't concern him.
"We'll continue training today." Charles turned his wheelchair. "Come with me to the basement."
---
Inside the training room, Charles got straight to the point.
"I'm going to teach you mind control."
Hang said nothing.
"Why?" he asked.
"You'll need it sooner or later," Charles said. "Better I teach you than let you fumble on your own. And if Erik really leaves, the school will need stronger protection."
Hang nodded and sat down.
"Mind control is different from telepathy," Charles explained. "Telepathy is listening. Control is command—imposing your will onto another."
"Sounds dangerous."
"It is. It's equivalent to killing their sense of self." Charles's tone was serious. "That's why I don't use it lightly."
He closed his eyes. His psychic power surged outward.
"I'm going to try controlling you. Don't resist—feel the process."
Hang lowered the first layer of his mental barrier.
A strand of psychic force slipped in, bypassing defenses and touching the core of his consciousness.
A voice echoed in his mind.
Raise your right hand.
His right hand lifted on its own.
Not because his muscles were controlled—but because his mind believed it should move.
Lower it.
His hand dropped.
Charles opened his eyes. "Understand?"
"I do," Hang said. "You disguise the command as my own thought."
"Exactly. The core is deception."
Hang stood and walked over.
"Can I try?"
Charles hesitated for a few seconds.
"You can. Only on me—and don't go too deep."
Hang nodded, placing a hand on Charles's shoulder.
His psychic force flowed in. He saw a vast, intricate mental network. He didn't dive deep—only constructed a simple command on the surface.
Close your eyes.
Charles's eyes slowly shut.
Hang withdrew his hand.
A prompt echoed in his mind:
[Ability acquired: Mind Control (S+)]
Copy.
A warning followed: conflict detected with existing mental laws—integration required.
A torrent of information flooded his mind.
Countless techniques, experiences, taboos.
Fragments of Charles's memories surfaced—his fear and hesitation the first time he controlled someone, the rules he later set for himself, and the moments he was forced to break them.
Hang suppressed the memories with brute force, keeping only the techniques.
Three seconds later, he let go and stepped back, sweat covering his forehead.
Charles opened his eyes, staring at him.
"What did you just do?"
"Like you said—gave a simple command."
Charles narrowed his eyes, scanning him mentally.
"That's not right. Your psychic power just increased." His voice remained calm, but wary. "And your technique—that wasn't a beginner's."
Hang didn't answer.
After more than ten seconds, Charles sighed and smiled faintly.
"You're not a mutant, are you?"
Hang looked at him.
"Your abilities are too complex. And you learn too fast—fast enough to defy common sense."
Hang was silent for a moment, then nodded.
"No."
Charles stared at him for a long time.
Then he closed his eyes, unleashing his full psychic power to probe deeper. Hang didn't resist—he simply reinforced his core barrier.
A minute later, Charles opened his eyes.
"You're stronger than me," he said calmly. "If we fought, I wouldn't last ten seconds."
"I have no intention of fighting."
"I know." Charles turned his wheelchair toward the window. "You can stay—but I have three conditions."
"First, you don't harm anyone here."
"Second, you do not forcibly approach Jean."
"Third, if Erik starts a war, you must help me stop him."
Hang considered.
"The first two are fine. The third isn't."
"Why?"
"I don't want to interfere in mutant affairs."
"And if the war reaches the school?"
"I'll protect the school. Nothing more."
Charles was silent for a long time, then nodded.
"Alright. I accept."
---
They stepped out of the training room.
Erik stood at the staircase, holding a travel bag.
"You're really leaving?" Charles asked.
"Yes." Erik glanced at Hang, then back at Charles. "If I stay, I'll only become your shadow."
"Violence isn't the answer."
"Neither is peace."
With that, Erik turned and walked downstairs, disappearing out the door.
"He'll regret this," Charles said quietly. "But by then, it'll be too late."
---
Dinner was unusually quiet.
Jean sat in the corner, absentmindedly stirring her pasta.
Hang carried his tray and sat across from her.
"Magneto left," she said softly.
"Yeah."
"The professor's upset."
Hang could feel the Phoenix Force stirring within her.
"You should get some air," he said.
"He won't let me leave the school."
"Then go to the garden."
---
The night breeze was cool.
Jean sat on a bench, hugging her knees, staring at the sky.
"Sometimes I feel like a ticking time bomb," she said. "One day, I'm going to destroy everything here."
"Professor puts mental barriers in my mind every day. But I can feel it getting stronger." Her voice trembled. "One day, the barrier will break. And when it does… I'll kill everyone."
She turned to him. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
"I'm not."
"Why?"
"The power inside you wasn't meant for destruction."
Jean gave a bitter smile. "The professor says the same thing. But that doesn't change the fact that I could lose control at any moment."
Hang crouched down to meet her gaze.
"If that day comes—leave."
"What?"
"Go somewhere with no one around," Hang said. "Don't let yourself hurt the people you care about."
Jean looked at him, eyes reddening.
"You're the first person who told me it's okay to run."
"Because staying alive matters more than anything."
---
Back at the dorm, Charles stood by the entrance.
After Jean went upstairs, he looked at Hang.
"What did you say to her?"
"I told her she could run."
"You shouldn't put that idea in her head."
"But it's the truth," Hang said. "She'll lose control eventually. You can't stop the Phoenix Force."
He turned and walked upstairs.
Charles remained where he was, offering no rebuttal.
---
Back in his room, Hang closed the door.
He shut his eyes, beginning to integrate his three mental powers.
Psychic Law—the framework for offense and defense.
Telepathy—a vast network of perception.
Mind Control—a precise needle that rewrites thought.
The three clashed and merged deep within his consciousness. His temples throbbed, and blood trickled from his nose.
An hour later, balance was achieved.
Hang opened his eyes and wiped the blood away.
Wide-range scanning. Precise mind-reading. Silent control.
Still not enough.
He needed Magneto's magnetic manipulation. He needed Jean's Phoenix Force.
Outside, the sound of a car engine broke the silence.
A black sedan stopped at the school gate. Erik stepped out, stood there for a long time… then got back in and left.
Hang withdrew his gaze and lay down on the bed.
He had already obtained Charles's core ability. Jean was still unstable—there was no point staying here.
He needed to leave. To find other targets—Darwin's adaptability, Sebastian Shaw's energy absorption… and Apocalypse.
When Jean fully awakened, he would return.
Tomorrow, he would say goodbye to Charles.
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