Being on the run had been a learning experience.
One that Scott had desperately needed.
He had always been aware of the differences between him and Cyclops. There were too many to count, but most importantly, the ones that stood out to Scott the most were the differences between their abilities. On many occasions, Scott had tried to follow the instincts of Cyclops, only to lack the speed, strength or power necessary to do so.
There were many things he had to improve upon, but his athleticism and martial arts were the most crucial at this point in time. Cyclops had never been the greatest hand-to-hand combat fighter, but he was by no means a slouch. Even the greatest martial artists in the world had to be wary of Cyclops, he had routinely engaged in close quarters combat against the likes of Wolverine and held his own, even without his Optic Blasts.
Throwing punches and fancy kicks were never Cyclops' preferred method of fighting. It was in his eyes, a pointless endeavour when he could end a fight instantly with a single blast. What was most efficient for him was the act of buying time and forcing opponents to create distance. That was why Cyclops had focused entirely upon martial arts like Judo and Aikido. Styles that were blended into one seamless, unique martial arts that would allow Cyclops to always hold off opponents too close for the perfect opportunity to strike or buy time for allies to come to his aid.
It's what made Cyclops so dangerous.
He knew his weaknesses and strengths like the back of his hand and he had prepared accordingly. Cyclops knew he was a glass cannon and had worked his ass off to give him all the tools necessary to survive any fight that came his way.
That was the only reason Cyclops until the very end when everyone else had died. Immortal, cosmic beings, Gods, heroes with immense strength, the most powerful of villains, each and every single one of them had died at the hands of that strange creature which devoured the universe. But Cyclops survived because he knew his weaknesses and how to work around them.
Cyclops understood how to survive.
Now, Scott did too.
But just because he knew it, didn't mean he could.
He was too weak to do so at this point in time, too unprepared. Scott had to train his body in the same way Cyclops had learned through trial and error, following the memories and their moments of teachings to become stronger. Cyclops survived through trial and error, almost losing his life in the process many times, hitting different walls and slumps that stalled his development. However, Scott now had the answers to the questions that plagued his mind, he knew how best to develop his skills and powers without hitting those slumps and walls.
All that was left to do, was train those instincts into his body so that they were no longer Cyclops, but his. So that Cyclops' skills and experiences, victories and strengths were his. He would, as Cyclops intended, stand upon his shoulders and reach even higher heights.
Releasing a low breath, Scott slowed to a stop, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he looked up to the entrance to the large mansion that awaited him. It was different to how the memories showed, but then again, this mansion had always been destroyed and rebuilt. Even though it had been mostly similar each and every time, there had been small differences that made it not quite the same.
But there was still that feeling he felt whenever looking upon these doors. This was the only place Cyclops had ever been able to call home, the only place he had been able to feel like he was back home with his family before that plane crash. The memories that were there were plentiful and even though Scott had only spent a few months here, the feelings Cyclops had for this place, the connection he shared with it, Scott felt it also.
This was a place filled with so many joyous memories for Cyclops.
But also home to so many of his regrets.
Pushing open the door, Scott stepped inside, looking around to see that it was empty in the first few rooms. There were no children running around laughing, no classes taking place. It was empty compared to how it would be in the future.
"Ah, Scott, you're just in time." Xavier greeted with a kind smile, moving out of the kitchen. "Amelia and Alex have just finished making some breakfast, I must say, your brother is becoming quite the cook."
"I'm glad to here that, Professor." Scott replied, a small smile coming on to his face, a real one. He had always been a little wary of coming here, despite being a good man, there was no denying that Charles' sense of morality was a little skewed. Never doubt that the man wouldn't give his life to save Mutantkind, but he was also not against wiping the memories of everyone and everything relating to an incident.
He had done so many times during Cyclops' memories.
Scott had been nervous about trusting him for that reason alone, even though Cyclops' instincts told him that he could be trusted. But he was glad that he chose to come here, not only did he get the chance to safely train himself in preparation for the upcoming fights to come, but it also gave Alex a place to relax and call home.
"Would you like to join me in the drawing room. I have yet to beat you at a game of chess and I must admit, my pride demands a rematch." Xavier joked, Scott's smile growing a little bit larger as he nodded his head.
"I'll just get myself a plate of food and join you."
That was when Amelia appeared, the door to the kitchen opening. "Not with your food you won't! I've just cleaned that room after the last incident." That being the time Alex dropped his food over the floor, staining the carpet and resulting in it needing a thorough cleaning. "You eat your food in the dining room and then you can play chess."
"Well," Xavier chuckled as Amelia went back inside. "I do believe the lady has spoken, Scott. I'll bring the chess board to the kitchen."
"Of course, Professor." Heading into the dining room, the next door further down from the kitchen, he opened it to see Alex sitting and eating the breakfast he had cooked with Amelia's help. A simple, but filling breakfast of eggs and toast, one he was happily munching down. "Slow down there Alex, the food isn't going to disappear."
Grinning sheepishly, Alex laughed. "Sorry, I'm just really hungry."
Joining him at the table, Scott smiled. "I'm not surprised, smelling the food cooking must have been torture for you." Amelia then entered, bringing with her another plate of food, and placing it down in front of Scott. "Thank you." His response was curt though, Amelia not even pausing as she walked away, used to it by this point.
Amongst the four of them, everyone got along well, except for Scott and Amelia. Or more accurately, Scott didn't get along with Amelia. But that was because he knew who she was, Amelia Voght and a member of Magneto's Acolytes. She, despite her opinion on Mutants and her belief that they should simply hide away, joined one of the most active pro-Mutant terrorist cells led by one of the most powerful and dangerous Mutants to ever live.
Scott didn't trust her.
Not in the slightest.
It was unfortunate then that despite the troubles in Xavier's and her relationship, they had stuck together and were seeming to find common ground once more. Alex was the main cause of it, his brother and Amelia connected instantly, taking him under her wing and doting on him constantly.
It was certainly not ideal for him.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
In the months they had been here, the once strained relationship between Xavier and Amelia was being repaired. Alex who had once been closed off and distant from the two had since opened up, seeming to find a new foster family amongst the two of them. Technically, they were a family, Amelia having signed adoption papers for both of them. Scott had refused, but Alex had accepted and like many things, Scott had wanted to give Alex something to make him happy.
Didn't mean he had to like it though.
"Shall we have our rematch then, Scott?" Xavier asked, entering the room with the chessboard in his lap.
"By all means."Scott said, Xavier coming to the table and setting the board down. "Whites or blacks?"
"I think I shall be whites this time." Xavier replied, smiling lightly as he set up his pieces, quickly moving one of his pawns to 1.e4. But as Xavier expected, Scott replied with the Sicillians defence, moving one of his pawns to 1.e5. "How goes your exercises? I notice you've been pushing yourself quite hard, not too much I suppose?"
Scott shook his head, watching as Xavier attempted to counter his Sicilian Defence with a Siberian Trap. It was a smart move, but the obvious and predictable play to make. Simply avoiding the pitfall of using the Smith Mora Gambit, nullified that, but in turn, put him in a seemingly difficult situation.
As expected, Xavier tried to capitalise.
"I'm fine," Scott replied, Xavier looked up and tried to get a read upon the young man before him, now sixteen, Scott was different to how he had been when they first met. Taller, more muscular and more sure of himself. The plentiful and healthy meals as well as the constant training he subjected himself to had made Scott a completely different person.
A surprising thing to see.
However, it also pleased Xavier to see.
When they first met, Xavier had seen something in the young man. Despite not being able to read his mind, Xavier had known that there was something different about Scott, something that would set him apart from everyone else, push him to achieve something great. In Scott he had seen the leader he was looking for, the person who would command the team he was intending to put together that would fight for Mutant-Human coexistence.
The more time Xavier had spent with him, the more certain he became that Scott was the one he needed to lead this team. He was no slouch at chess, even without relying upon his telepathy, Xavier had been able to become an accomplished chess player. Yet in all the games they had played together, Xavier had not won a single one.
Scott was always five, ten, twenty steps ahead of him.
Like right now for instance.
Even as he moved his knight, taking one of Scott's pawns, and adding to the list of pieces he had taken, Xavier watched the next instance, Scott, completely flip the board around. While Xavier still had more pieces present, they were spread out, while Scott's were in the perfect position to deal a devasting strike the next turn. No matter what move Xavier made to counter one possible move Scott could make, there were six other pieces that could deal just as devastating a strike.
The game wasn't over yet, but Xavier knew he was beaten.
He conceded then, placing his King down and surrendering, funnily enough, Scott had not even put him in Check, let alone Checkmate. "It is your win again," Xavier admitted with a smile, amazed at the tactical mind Scott possessed, it was precisely what was needed in a leader. The fact that he was hard-working and determined made him even more suited for the position.
Xavier could count it as good fortune, that upon his little excursion to help and guide two young Mutants down the right path, he had found the one Mutant he was looking for the most. The one who would be the leader, the torch carrier, the figurehead of his movement.
Scott was that Mutant.