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After he met with Peggy, Fury, and Coulson, Peter made his way back to the Widows. He gathered them in a quiet corner of the Red Room base, his mind focused on the task at hand.
The room fell silent as Peter addressed them, curious to see if any of them had made up their minds yet. He watched their reactions closely, understanding the weight of the decision they faced.
Over the next hour, Peter spoke with each Widow individually, gauging their readiness and commitment. By the end of their discussions, he had a list of about a dozen of them who had chosen to join Peggy.
Peter knew that others were still undecided, needing more time to process everything and make their decisions. But he was confident that the number of recruits would grow in the coming days.
Peter then handed the list to Natasha, who had been by his side through it all. "Nat, I need you to help facilitate a meeting with these Widows and Peggy. They need to be briefed on the situation."
Natasha nodded, accepting the responsibility without hesitation. "I'll get it done."
With that, Natasha left to organize the meeting, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts. He stood alone in the dimly lit room, his mind racing as he contemplated his next move.
The fight against Hydra required more than they already had, especially if he wanted things to go differently from the movies. 'Shield may have won against Hydra in the films, but they most certainly didn't come out of the fight unscathed…'
In the end, Hydra managed to post all of Shield's classified files on the internet, exposing the truth to the world. Evidence of human experimentation, stockpiles of WMDs, and all sorts of dirty secrets, all concealed by massive cover-ups.
The backlash was so bad that the U.S. government declared Shield a terrorist organization and many former agents were turned into wanted fugitives.
'Yeah, I'd rather avoid Shield becoming a Terrorist group…' Peter thought.
To achieve that, he needed a force powerful enough to crush Hydra before they could cause any trouble. This meant he had to begin recruiting, but first, Peter needed to safeguard his mind.
He was about to visit an incredibly powerful telepath, and Peter had no idea what he would be like, or whether he would respect his mental privacy or not.
'I have far too much forbidden knowledge about this universe to risk it…' Peter knew he couldn't allow anyone to know what he knew.
And there was only one person who could help him right now: his ghostly master and crew member, Darth Revan. Revan possessed unparalleled knowledge of the Force and its techniques, and Peter hoped that Revan could offer something to secure his mind.
Without a word, Peter set off through the corridors of the Red Room base, searching for his Sith Master.
After a while, he found Revan meditating in one of the empty classrooms. The room was quiet, filled with an eerie stillness that seemed to amplify Revan's ethereal presence. The former Sith Lord was seated cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, a faint aura of energy surrounding him.
"Revan," Peter called softly, not wanting to disturb him too abruptly.
Revan's eyes opened slowly, and he looked up at Peter with a calm gaze. "Peter, what brings you here?" He raised a brow, "I thought you'd still be destroying your eardrums back at the ship…"
Peter stepped closer, ignoring the jab at his music. "I need your help. I'm planning to visit a man with incredibly powerful telepathic abilities, and I need a way to protect my mind. I mean, I already use the Jedi technique to shield my mind, but I'm fairly sure that it won't be enough."
Revan nodded, understanding the gravity of the request. "A wise precaution. You can never be too careful around mind readers. I can teach you a Force technique to shield your mind from outside intrusions."
Peter sat down across from Revan, ready to learn. "Thank you, Master. What do I need to do?"
Revan began to explain the technique, his voice steady and calm. "This technique is known as Mental Bubble. It requires deep focus and a strong connection to the Force. You must visualize your mind with..."
As his master began explaining the technique, Peter closed his eyes, following Revan's instructions. He visualized his mind surrounded by a bubble-like forcefield, sturdy and impenetrable. He could feel the Force flowing through him, guiding his efforts to construct this mental barrier.
"Now," Revan continued, "channel the Force into the bubble, reinforcing it with your willpower. The stronger your intent, the more resilient your shield will be. Feel the energy flow through you, becoming a part of your very essence."
Peter focused intently, feeling the Force surge within him. He poured his willpower into the mental forcefield, reinforcing it until it felt solid and unyielding.
Revan observed Peter's progress, offering guidance and adjustments as needed. "Good. You're doing well. Remember, this shield must be maintained through constant vigilance. It's not a one-time effort but an ongoing practice."
After what felt like hours, Peter finally opened his eyes. He could feel the strength of his mental shield, a solid barrier protecting his thoughts. "I think I've got it."
Revan nodded approvingly. "You've done well. But remember, this is just the beginning. Continue to practice and strengthen your shield. The more you meditate on it, the stronger it will become."
Peter remained in the classroom, continuing to meditate for the rest of the day. He wanted to ensure his mind was fully secure before heading out the next morning.
By nightfall, Peter felt confident in his new ability. He rose from his meditative position, feeling a sense of calm and readiness. Tomorrow, he will start the recruitment.
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The next day, Upstate New York, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters…
Charles Xavier rolled down the halls of his mansion, the familiar hum of his wheelchair's motor accompanying him as he made his way to the infirmary, where he hoped to find some answers. Entering the room, the door sealed shut behind him with a soft hiss.
Inside, Hank McCoy stood over a hospital bed, checking the monitoring machines. Hank, otherwise known as Beast, was a striking figure. His blue fur-covered body was muscular and powerful, with fangs protruding slightly from his mouth and claws tipping his fingers.
[Insert picture of Beast here]
But despite his beastly appearance, Hank wore a finely tailored suit alongside a lab coat and glasses, embodying the very image of a scientist.
On the bed lay a blonde-haired woman, sleeping soundly. The only sign of life from her was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
Charles rolled to a stop at the end of the bed. "How is our resident alien doing, Hank?"
Hank glanced up from the machines. "She's stable. Remarkably so. A few nights ago, when we found her, she was in critical condition. Burns, lacerations, internal injuries. But now... she's almost fully healed. It seems she has a remarkable healing factor."
Charles looked at the woman curiously. "And you're sure she doesn't have the X-gene?"
Hank shook his head. "No, for an alien, she's remarkably human. There's no sign of the X-gene. But I did find something unusual."
He pulled out an X-ray scan and pointed to a small object in the back of her neck. "This chip-like object is connected to her central nervous system. I don't know what it is, or what it does, but it seems significant."
Charles frowned. "Should we try removing it?"
Hank immediately shook his head. "No, at least not without knowing exactly what it is. I don't want to risk her life out of simple curiosity."
Charles nodded, agreeing, his eyes wandering to the sleeping patient, wondering where she came from. 'Is she really an alien?' He asked himself.
"How is the cleanup going?" Hank asked, breaking the Professor from his thoughts.
Charles sighed. "The remains of her ship have been moved into the underground facility. It was quite the operation."
A flash of interest appeared in Hank's eyes. "Will I be able to study the remains? I've always been interested in space travel, even if it's not exactly my specialty."
Charles nodded. "Yes, Hank. You can study it, but we must be cautious." He warned as he glanced over at another bed, asking, "And what about our other patients?"
Just as Hank was about to answer, suddenly, the sound of a helicopter reached their ears, drawing their attention.
Charles rolled over to the window, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of a helicopter descending toward the school's front yard.
Hank joined him at the window, his eyes widening in surprise. "Is that a Soviet helicopter?" he muttered curiously.
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Minutes before the helicopter arrived, a teenage girl of about 17, with brown hair and blue eyes, sat alone on a bench in the mansion's front yard. Her entire body was covered in clothing, leaving only her face exposed.
[Insert picture of Rogue here]
Marie D'Ancanto, better known by her nickname Rogue, watched the students talking amongst each other in their cliques, enjoying the sunny day outside.
Rogue had been having a bad week, to say the least. First, she may have killed the boy she liked when they kissed a few days ago. Her mutant gene activated, and her ability, which she still couldn't control, absorbed the poor boy's life force by accident.
Now, she wore gloves and long-sleeved shirts to avoid hurting anyone, as her power activated with just skin-on-skin contact alone.
Ever since that day, Rogue had run away from home, too scared to face her parents or find out whether she actually killed someone or not.
After running away, she bumped into another mutant, Logan. At first, he tried to avoid her, but after she was kidnapped, he came after her to save her, which lead to a fight between him and another mutant who seemed to have some history with Logan.
Thankfully, they were saved by a group of teachers from this very school and brought back here.
Logan had been in a coma ever since, leaving Rogue in limbo, waiting for him to wake up as she watched the students live their happy lives, lives that reminded her of her former life before her powers activated.
But life wasn't easy for Rogue even here…
Last night, one of the boys, who went by the nickname Pyro due to his flame abilities, tried to get handsy with her. Of course, her powers activated, absorbing his life force. And before she knew what happened, he was on the floor, shaking as if he was having a seizure, just like last time.
Worst of all, the whole school saw what happened, and now everyone was giving her fearful and angry looks, as if blaming her for what happened, even though it was Pyro who decided to touch her inappropriately without her consent. And she had warned him as well…
As Rogue sat there, gloomy and brooding, another student similar to her age, Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops due to his mutation that forced him to wear special glasses to keep his optic energy blasts at bay, took a seat beside her.
[Insert picture of Cyclops here]
Out of all the students, Rogue was most familiar with Scott and Pyro, as they were the ones who took the initiative to get to know her. So at first, she was happy to see Scott, but that happiness didn't last very long.
It didn't take her more than a few seconds to realize that Scott was angry at her for what happened last night. "What did you do!? Why is Pyro in the infirmary, and why is everyone telling me that you did it?" He asked, his tone accusing.
Rogue tried to defend herself. "I had no choice. I warned him not to touch me." She explained, "We were all hanging out and he just started grabbing my chest out of nowhere. I told him to stop, but well, you can see what happened…"
Scott shook his head, his expression disbelieving. "He would never do something like that. Stop lying."
"I'm not lying, Scott," Rogue pleaded, shocked that he didn't believe her.
"I think you should leave," Scott said coldly. "Everyone's freaked out, wondering who you're going to suck the life out of next, like some vampire. And the teachers have to be furious by now too. Just go, Rogue."
He made it clear that she wasn't welcome, so Rogue got up and paced away, headed towards the front gate, tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted to wait for Logan, but even he didn't seem to like her.
'Maybe I should just live alone from now on…' She thought sadly as she walked off.
But suddenly, the sound of a helicopter filled the air and everyone looked up to see a Russian heli descending onto the front lawn, directly in front of Rogue.
Rogue looked up in surprise as the helicopter's blades whipped the air around her. "?!"
Soon enough, the door opened, and Peter Quill stepped out, scanning the area. Noticing the tears in her eyes, he frowned and approached her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone gentle as he held out his hand.
"No! Stop!"
A/N: 2271 words :)
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