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Chapter 4 - X Men

The scene shifts to a darkened room, the faint hum of machinery the only sound breaking the silence.

In the center sat an older, bald man in a wheelchair, his sharp, knowing eyes hidden behind the sleek metal helmet of Cerebro.

He was Charles Xavier, the leader of the X-Men and one of the most powerful telepaths on the planet.

For hours, he had been scanning the world, keeping tabs on mutants as they awoke to their powers, as was his duty.

But this... this was different.

Suddenly, Cerebro's readings spiked.

Xavier's breath hitched as a wave of raw psionic energy flooded his mind, not like the usual signals of a newly awakened mutant.

This was... unique, powerful.

Almost as if someone had just broadcasted their thoughts, their desires—not just locally but on a global scale.

It wasn't the typical flare of an emerging mutant—it was more intentional, deliberate, and much more massive in scope.

So massive that it had forced the cerebro to only look at it and shielded or distorted other signals for some time.

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling.

The signal wasn't just released into the ether; it was absorbed by the very world itself, as if the planet had eagerly drunk in this... desire.

It felt like a pulse, something close to an Omega-level event, a category reserved only for the most powerful mutants.

But this... whatever it was, didn't behave like anything he'd encountered before.

And the sheer magnitude of the psionic wave—it was overwhelming.

"I can't pinpoint it," Xavier muttered to himself, his voice filled with an edge of frustration. "... this is extra ordinary."

His fingers tapped a button on his chair. "Logan," he called out through the communicator, his voice steady yet carrying an urgency that even the grizzled Wolverine couldn't ignore.

A few moments later, the familiar gruff voice of Logan came through. "What's goin' on, Chuck?"

"Something's happened, Logan," Xavier said, his tone measured, trying to keep his concern from leaking into his words. "Cerebro has detected a signal... an immense psionic wave."

"Strong enough that it could only come from someone or something near an Omega level.

"But it's unlike any mutant I've encountered before. It's almost as if... the world itself reacted to it."

Logan's voice grumbled back. "You want me to gather the team?"

"Yes," Xavier replied without hesitation. "I need you and the others to investigate. I can't pinpoint the exact source, and I believe we'll need the help of our resident fire psychic... Jean."

There was a pause on the line, then Logan's low growl of acknowledgment. "Alright. We're on it."

Xavier leaned back in his chair, his mind still processing the shockwaves of the event.

There was something off about it—something strange in the nature of this psionic pulse.

Whoever or whatever caused this, it wasn't just testing their power.

It felt like a statement of intent, a ripple of desire so strong that even the world had bent to its will.

---

Unaware that his casual manipulation of reality was sending ripples across the cosmos, Niklaus sat in a quiet park, lost in deep concentration.

The moonlight glowed softly over the trees as he focused on a new power he'd been trying to create—something akin to hypnosis, or rather, compulsion.

His breath came in short, controlled bursts as he mentally wrestled with the energy coursing through him, trying to shape it into something useful.

The effort was immense.

Sweat trickled down his face, his mind growing weary as he attempted to redirect a portion of his power into a permanent mold—a new ability, separate from the ones that had seemingly come with this body.

His energy wasn't infinite; he could feel that.

Each power he created drained him, and this one was no different.

However, unlike his existing abilities, this was something entirely new, untested, and raw.

'Come on...' he muttered under his breath, pushing through the fatigue.

After what felt like hours of molding and shaping, something finally clicked.

A small but effective compulsion power locked into place within his mind, tied to his vision.

If his eyes met someone else's, the compulsion would take hold, subtly influencing their actions.

'Finally,' he thought, exhaling deeply as a wave of exhaustion hit him.

He tested it, sending a gentle nudge of compulsion toward a squirrel nearby.

The little creature suddenly froze mid-scamper and obediently turned to face him, twitching nervously under his influence.

Niklaus grinned, feeling a surge of triumph. It had worked.

But the effort wasn't without consequence.

The toll on his energy was steep, far more than he had anticipated.

He thought back to an earlier attempt—one that had nearly ended disastrously.

He'd tried to create a compulsion so strong it would work on anyone at any time.

But the energy drain had almost knocked him out cold.

His new power seemed to be taking things quite literally, with little regard for practicality.

If he wasn't careful, he realized, he could easily burn himself out by overreaching with these powers.

'I've got to be more careful next time,' he reminded himself, running a hand through his damp hair.

He had also begun to sense that his other abilities were structured in similar molds.

They felt rigid—fixed in place, yet pliable enough to dissolve if needed. In an emergency, he knew he could reclaim that energy and redistribute it elsewhere.

But doing so would leave him vulnerable.

'Everything's a trade-off,' he mused, looking up at the stars twinkling faintly above him.

For now, though, he was satisfied with his creation.

A simple, reliable compulsion that activated on eye contact.

Nothing too elaborate, nothing that would drain him dry.

Just another tool in his arsenal.

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