"It's done."
Richard set his glass down lightly.
"For someone with telepathy, implanting a psychological suggestion is as simple as picking up the drink in front of you."
Tony studied him for a second, searching for any hint of mockery, then gave a short nod.
"Fine. I hope it works."
He finished his whiskey in one swallow and stood.
"That's it for today. I'll head back."
He adjusted his sunglasses before adding, "If this doesn't work, I'll come find you again."
Richard merely inclined his head.
Tony walked toward the balcony, called the armor to him, and launched into the sky moments later.
When the apartment returned to silence, Richard leaned back and let his thoughts drift.
The system had issued a new task. No time limit. No urgency indicator. Just a clear objective: defeat Dark Phoenix.
If this were the X-Men film universe, he would know exactly when Jean would lose control. But this world did not follow a predictable script. Events overlapped. Timelines intertwined. Canon blurred.
Still, one thing was certain.
The system would not issue an impossible mission.
He had tested that assumption enough times to trust it.
After a few minutes of quiet reflection, he made his decision.
Go to the mutant school.
If anyone was watching Jean's psychological stability closely, it would be Professor X. If she lost control, the first casualties would not be cities—they would be the X-Men.
Compared to his objective of completing a task and gaining a reward, Professor X had far more at stake.
As he rose, Clarice's image surfaced briefly in his mind. They had only spent a short time together, but the resemblance alone ensured she left an impression.
He walked into the study.
The White Queen sat behind a sleek desk, surrounded by digital projections and financial reports. She had changed into a white OL suit—white blouse, white skirt, white heels. Even her lingerie beneath matched the theme. Only the nearly transparent stockings broke the pattern.
She liked white. That was all.
"I need to go to the mutant school," Richard said.
He had appointed her as his personal asset manager without ceremony. If she wanted a career, she would have one. Managing billions suited her ambition perfectly.
"Do you want me to come?" she asked, looking up.
"No. I'll go alone."
He let his gaze linger briefly before activating teleportation.
In less than a second, Manhattan disappeared.
He arrived at the gates of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in Westchester County. Though only forty kilometers from the city, it felt like a different world entirely.
He could have teleported directly inside.
He chose not to.
Entering someone's home without notice was impolite.
After glancing at the plaque, he stepped through the gates.
He did not go unnoticed.
Students scattered across the lawn immediately recognized him. Between his recent notoriety and his striking silver hair and sharp features, it was impossible not to stare. Conversations halted. Whispered speculation followed him toward the main building.
At the foot of the stairs, two figures emerged.
Cyclops.
Jean Grey.
"Long time no see," Jean said lightly. "Are you here to see the Professor, or Clarice?"
"The Professor," Richard replied calmly.
"I'll take you," she said.
They walked together through the halls until they reached Professor X's office.
The professor, dressed impeccably as always, greeted him with composed warmth.
"No disturbance at all," Professor X said. "Please, sit."
Jean and Scott remained briefly until Professor X gently dismissed them for afternoon classes. Once the door closed, silence settled.
"You didn't come for a casual visit," Professor X observed. "What do you need?"
Richard did not hesitate.
"I saw fragments of the future this morning."
Professor X's expression sharpened slightly.
"Specifically, a future where Dr. Jean Grey becomes an Omega-level mutant."
He paused deliberately.
"In those fragments, something goes very wrong."
Professor X's fingers tightened slightly on the armrest of his wheelchair.
"Are you saying Jean loses control after becoming Omega?"
"Yes."
Silence lingered.
After several seconds, Professor X sighed quietly.
"I've feared this for years."
His voice softened as he continued.
"When Eric and I first encountered Jean, we immediately recognized her potential. From the moment she used her abilities, we knew she would surpass us both."
He folded his hands.
"Eric and I disagreed about how to guide her. In the end, she remained here. She became my proudest student."
A shadow crossed his expression.
"But as she matured, I discovered something else. A darker personality. A terrifying power buried in her subconscious."
He met Richard's eyes directly.
"To protect her—and everyone else—I placed a psychic cage within her mind. It sealed that darker aspect."
"At first, it was manageable. But as Jean grew stronger, so did what I sealed."
He exhaled slowly.
"Fortunately, her conscious control has improved over time. Without severe external trauma, the cage should hold indefinitely."
He hesitated.
"However… if it breaks again, even with Cerebro, I cannot guarantee I could restrain her."
Richard nodded.
"That's why I came."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I don't want that future to become reality."
He paused.
"You've taken care of Clarice. I consider that a debt."
His tone remained steady.
"If Jean loses control, I'll intervene. Consider it repayment."
Professor X studied him carefully.
"You would fight her?"
"If necessary."
The room grew quiet.
"You understand what that might mean," Professor X said.
"Yes."
Richard's voice did not waver.
"I'm not here to threaten her. I'm here to prevent catastrophe."
Professor X closed his eyes briefly, processing the implications.
"You said you saw fragments," he asked finally. "What exactly did you see?"
Richard chose his words carefully.
"I saw destruction."
He did not elaborate further.
Professor X nodded slowly.
"In that case," he said, "we must prepare—not for an enemy, but for a failure of restraint."
His gaze sharpened with renewed resolve.
"If such a day comes, I would prefer you stand with us… not against us."
Richard allowed a faint smile.
"That depends on whether she's still standing with you."
.....
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