"Stop!" Charles and Eric shouted in unison, their voices filled with determination. Instantly, an invisible surge of mental energy burst from Charles, pouring into the minds of the boys surrounding them.
The next second, the expressions of the other kids froze, their movements stilled as they took a few steps back, almost like puppets. Meanwhile, the steel pipe Turner had been holding twisted and deformed in his grip, collapsing into a useless ball of scrap metal. Turner, visibly shocked, dropped the pipe as if it had suddenly turned molten in his hand.
Not allowing any time for questions, Charles and Eric dashed forward, grabbing a broom and positioning themselves between Clark and the bullies. Charles raised the broom, his voice firm, "If you don't want your moms to have trouble recognizing you, then back off—now!"
The kids exchanged confused glances, momentarily bewildered by what had just happened.
Turner, however, wasn't giving up so easily. He glared at his companions, still gripping his fists. "What are you all standing around for? Get them!" he barked, his voice barely concealing his frustration. Though he didn't fully understand what had occurred, he wasn't about to let Clark off so quickly.
As the others started to advance, Clark quickly pulled Charles and Eric behind him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice half-frustrated, half-surprised.
Charles shrugged, glancing at the other kids moving closer. "Let's talk later," he muttered.
Without another word, Clark scooped up both Charles and Eric, one under each arm, turned, and broke into a sprint, deftly dodging the bullies who tried to block his escape.
"Don't just stand there! After him!" Turner yelled, rallying the others.
But it was a futile effort—Clark was already a blur, effortlessly outpacing them. After reaching a safe distance, he finally set Charles and Eric down, his expression a mix of anger and relief. "Do you realize how dangerous that was?"
Eric's face was indignant. "What were we supposed to do? Just stand by and watch them gang up on you?"
Clark sighed, "You know they can't hurt me."
"That's not the point!" Charles interjected, equally frustrated. "It's not about them hurting you. It's the fact that they even tried."
With an irritated huff, Charles added, "Besides, I recognized them all. Once I get their names and addresses, I'll tell Dad."
Eric gave a resolute nod, clenching his fist. "Yeah! They deserve to be taught a lesson!"
Seeing their fierce loyalty, Clark couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. Let's go get some food. I think we've earned it."
Charles nodded, but Eric thought to himself as they walked, 'Foodie.'
Charles suddenly stopped, his eyes narrowing. "What did you just say?"
Eric blinked, taken aback. "I didn't say anything."
"You did," Charles insisted, glaring. "I heard it clearly."
Confused, Eric called him names in his mind again, and Charles snapped, "Stop calling me that!"
Clark looked between them, puzzled. "Wait a minute… Charles, I didn't see Eric's mouth move. Are you sure you heard him?"
Charles paused, a flicker of realization dawning on his face. "I… I think I heard it. But it was like… inside my head."
Eric's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can read my mind?"
They stared at each other in stunned silence before Clark grinned, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Try it! You might have a superpower!"
Eric, however, let out a nervous laugh, glancing around. "Keep it down, Clark. If anyone hears, they'll think we're freaks or something."
Clark nodded, understanding all too well the importance of secrecy. "Good point. Let's talk more over lunch."
As they made their way to the cafeteria, laughing and speculating about Charles' newfound ability, miles away, Mike, who was tending to his farm, suddenly froze. A notification from the system flashed in his mind: "Eric Kent has awakened a mutant ability—magnetism control. Charles Kent has awakened a mutant ability—telepathy."
Stunned, Mike barely had time to react before a flood of worry washed over him. Why had their powers emerged so suddenly? Were they hurt?
Without a second thought, he turned to his friend Bob. "Bob, watch the farm for me. I need to go to school—now."
With a nod, Bob took over, and as soon as he was out of Bob's sight, Mike focused his mind, and a card materialized in his hand.
Name: Teleport (Long-Range).
Skill: Harness the power of space to travel vast distances.
Mike looked at the card as he activated it, disappearing in an instant and reappearing near the school grounds.
To his relief, the campus was calm, with no signs of any incidents. Checking his watch, he headed toward the cafeteria, suspecting that his sons would be there filling up after the commotion.
Sure enough, he soon spotted them. The three of them were huddled together, laughing and whispering like co-conspirators. Mike chuckled to himself before approaching, careful not to startle them.
"Hehe," Charles was saying, his voice mischievous. "Rodney tried on his sister's skirt yesterday and got caught. She was furious!"
Eric burst into laughter, his eyes scanning the room for more potential gossip. "What about him?" he asked, pointing to a senior at another table.
Charles squinted, attempting to tune out the cacophony of other voices in his head. The noise was overwhelming, a relentless buzz.
Suddenly, he clutched his head, wincing. "Ugh, it's too much. It feels like a hundred people are all shouting at once."
Eric and Clark's expressions shifted to concern.
"Do you know how uncomfortable that is?" a familiar voice said from behind them.
They turned, wide-eyed, to see Mike standing there with a gentle smile. Without a word, Charles threw his arms around his father. "Dad, it hurts."
Mike picked him up, hugging him tightly. "Come on, let's go home. You need some peace and quiet."
Clark and Eric nodded, falling into step behind him as they left the cafeteria, their classmates' curious gazes following them.
Once they were clear of the building, Mike found a secluded spot and withdrew another card, using it to teleport them back to their home.
Inside the house, Mike set Charles down on his bed. "How's that, son? Feeling better?"
Charles nodded weakly, relief spreading over his face as the noise in his head subsided. But the memory of the mental onslaught lingered, leaving him visibly shaken. "I don't want to feel that again, Dad. It was awful."
Mike ruffled his hair reassuringly. "Don't worry, Charles. You'll learn to control it with time."
Clark chimed in, offering a supportive smile. "Trust me, it gets easier. It's all about practice."
Charles managed a small smile, his trust in his family grounding him.
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Please vote with power stones.
You can read my other fic as well; SCPs in Marvel.