"Thanks for taking care of Clarice?"
Professor X repeated the phrase, genuine surprise flashing across his face.
Richard's reasoning had clearly not been what he expected. Still, the older man recovered quickly. After only a moment's thought, he reached a conclusion.
Richard was powerful.
Not merely strong—but stronger than Cyclops, Storm, and Wolverine combined. If such a person was willing to step in should Jean lose control, that was not something to refuse lightly.
"It would certainly be reassuring if you're willing to help stop Jean, should she lose control," Professor X said calmly.
"You're welcome," Richard replied. "As I said, this is simply my thanks."
Of course, he had no intention of revealing that his primary motivation was defeating Dark Phoenix to obtain a system reward. Repaying a favor sounded far more acceptable.
Professor X did not press further.
But the thought returned, uninvited.
If only Richard were an X-Man.
He dismissed it almost immediately.
Most mutants would join the X-Men without hesitation if offered the chance. Richard, however, was clearly not most mutants. If anything, Professor X suspected Richard might lean closer to Magneto's ideology than his own.
That suspicion was not baseless.
The day after Magneto reunited with Wanda and Pietro, he had called Xavier—not merely to inform him, but to boast. Twin children. Rescued from the Hellfire Club by Richard.
On the surface, it was simple information.
Beneath it, it was a signal.
Magneto had made it clear that he had a connection to Richard—and perhaps, in time, Richard might stand with the Brotherhood.
Neither Xavier nor Magneto had abandoned the idea of recruiting him.
Neither knew how.
"I never believed you were purely malicious, Richard," Professor X said thoughtfully. "Though some of your methods are… extreme."
He let the topic rest.
"Since you're willing to intervene if necessary, I'll trust your word."
"I'll do what I can," Richard replied evenly.
They spoke for another ten minutes about lighter matters before Professor X smiled faintly.
"This is your first proper visit. I'll have Clarice show you around."
"Thank you."
"There's no need to be so formal," Xavier said warmly. "You're welcome here anytime. If you ever wish to stay on campus, the school would gladly accommodate you."
The invitation was gentle—but obvious.
Richard understood perfectly.
If their positions were reversed, he would attempt the same.
Instead of summoning Clarice telepathically, Professor X reached for his phone and called Jean.
When she answered, he asked her to send Clarice to the office.
After hanging up, he met Richard's gaze.
"You probably think it unnecessary to use a phone when telepathy would suffice."
"A little," Richard admitted.
Professor X smiled.
"Frequent reliance on power breeds resentment. Humans already envy mutants for their abilities. Jealousy is universal—even among mutants."
A few minutes later, Jean entered with Clarice.
Clarice looked largely the same as before, but there was a visible difference. She carried herself with more confidence. More ease.
"Clarice," Professor X said kindly, "please show Richard around."
"Of course, Professor."
Richard rose.
"I won't take more of your time."
"No interruption at all," Xavier replied.
They stepped out into the hallway.
"Are you settling in well?" Richard asked casually.
"Yes," Clarice replied quickly. "Everyone's friendly. Jean and the others teach us a lot."
She added proudly, "My portals can reach one hundred kilometers now."
Her expression clearly demanded praise.
"Impressive progress," Richard said sincerely.
The compliment brightened her immediately.
She led him through the campus like an enthusiastic guide—classrooms, library, sports courts, dormitories, gardens, even the garage. Only the underground X-Men base remained unseen.
Students watched them openly.
Even without telepathy, Richard could sense the envy radiating from several male students.
Clarice's features carried a refined elegance that transcended conventional standards. It wasn't about curves or fashion—it was presence.
Beauty, when it reaches a certain threshold, becomes universal.
Richard noticed the looks and decided to tease her.
"It seems your power isn't the only thing that's grown. You've gained quite a few admirers."
Clarice froze instantly.
"No! I don't have any suitors! I'm not dating anyone!"
Her reaction was immediate and intense, eyes wide, as if his disbelief would be catastrophic.
Richard almost laughed.
Three months ago, she would never have reacted like that. Back then, she had lived cautiously, constantly on the move. Now she behaved like someone her age should.
He softened slightly.
"If no one's pursuing you," he said thoughtfully, "that would give me a headache."
"Why?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"Because it would mean I have poor taste," he replied calmly. "Or that my standards are strange—liking a girl no other man wants."
She blinked.
Then understanding dawned.
Her face flushed crimson.
"You… like me?" she asked softly.
For a brief moment, Richard considered answering plainly.
Instead, the urge to tease won.
"No," he said lightly. "I was talking about ugly girls."
Clarice stared at him in disbelief.
"I'm not ugly!"
Her cheeks puffed indignantly.
He stayed at the school for nearly an hour before returning to Manhattan via teleportation.
He did not bring her back with him.
He did not cross certain lines.
Clarice had changed—but she was still growing.
The same applied to Wanda.
Some things required patience.
A good hunter waits.
.....
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