Magical Mutations (Ch. 1)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Magical Mutations

Chapter 1

AN - The story is a mixture of X-Men Evolution, the original animated series, and possibly some stuff from the movies and comics. Basically, anything I want to put in, I will.

Eyelids slowly fluttered open, revealing a pair of brilliant emerald-green eyes. A ragged cough exited his mouth and was quickly followed by a pained groan. The young man pushed himself into a sitting position. His head was pounding, and his mouth was completely dry. The night air was crisp, and he could vaguely hear the sounds of vehicles in the distance. For a second, he thought that maybe he had drunk too much and had passed out. He was experiencing hangover-like symptoms after all. However, he couldn’t remember drinking anything. In fact, he could barely remember anything at all. He concentrated with all his might.

“Harry Potter,” he whispered. That was his name. Why was he sitting here in some random, empty field? He had no clue. What was the last thing he remembered? Flames … Being surrounded by fire …

But that didn’t feel exactly right. He didn’t remember burning or feeling any kind of pain from the fire. He remembered some type of bird. It was crimson in color and had a golden tail as long as a peacock’s. It was large as well. Much larger than any bird that he had ever seen. Harry didn’t get the feeling that the bird was a menace of any sort. Just the opposite. He felt like a friend. He remembered the bird bursting into flames and diving right into his chest. Harry remembered being covered by the brightest light imaginable as cool flames licked his skin. Then he felt weightless. After that … nothing.

His past felt like a blur. He must have had family and friends, but each one was like a shadow at dusk, barely there and unrecognizable. There were people in his life that he loved. He could feel it. Their names were at the tip of his tongue.

Harry shook his head. His continuous failures at recalling his past were anger-inducing. It felt impossible to remember with such a headache. Harry blinked his eyes. His headache was gone. That was strange, he thought. All things considered, it certainly wasn’t the strangest thing to happen that night, not to mention that it was more than welcome.

Harry pushed himself to his feet and got a sense of his surroundings. There was a street or highway not far from where he was standing. There were only a few cars and trucks that sporadically drove by. Further in the distance, he saw the bright lights of a gas station. Harry looked down at himself. Though it was hard to see, he didn’t seem too dirty from lying in the grassy field. He brushed the dried grass and dirt from his jeans and shirt. As he did, he felt something in his pocket. Reaching in, he pulled out three coins. Wishing that he could see, he was suddenly startled when a ball of light appeared in his free palm.

“AHH!” he cried out as his body jolted. The coins fell from his hand, but the light remained. Harry rapidly shook his hand, hoping to get rid of the light. When it finally extinguished, he leaned over and put his hands on his knees. Breathing heavily while his heart beat a mile a minute, Harry’s mind tried to make sense of what had just happened. After a minute or so, he began to calm down.

“Stop being a pussy,” he told himself. For some strange reason, when he thought about it, what he had just done was familiar. It had just been startling in his current state. Exhaling loudly, he focused again and held his hand out. There were a few sputters of light before the ball returned.

Shining brightly, Harry gazed at it in wonder. The light itself wasn’t anything spectacular. It was a bright, white light that could be produced by any number of electric bulbs. What was spectacular was that it was hovering right above his empty palm. When he began to see spots, he blinked his eyes and tore his vision away from it. Looking down at the ground, he searched until he found all three coins. Examining them, he found they were made of gold. Again, they were familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. With nothing else to do, he stuffed them back in his pocket and started walking.

Since he didn’t have anywhere else to go, Harry made his way to the nearest establishment that was showing any sort of signs of life. The gas station turned out to be a truck stop. Checking the time inside the store told him that it was very late, or perhaps very early, depending on who you asked. Several dozen big rigs were tightly packed in for the night. Harry didn’t have money for food, but thankfully, he wasn’t hungry. He was just hoping to find out where in the hell he was. As it turned out, he was in Avon, New York, and the highway was Route 20.

Most, if not all, the trucks were heading to or returning from New York City. As one could imagine, the drivers of those trucks weren’t the most pleasant sort of fellows. As proof of this, a fight broke out in the parking lot. The few people in the store, including Harry, made their way out to see what was going on. Apparently, they were arguing over something called a “lot lizard”, not that he knew what that was. There was a lot of yelling, which quickly turned into shoving.

A burly man in a red flannel shirt pulled a knife and started menacingly walking toward the other. The other man was smart enough to back away, at least until he reached into the cab of his truck and pulled out a handgun. Without a moment of hesitation, he began firing, not caring that the small crowd was directly behind his target. Harry heard a feminine scream beside him. He turned and saw the clerk holding her stomach. A red patch on her shirt was quickly growing in size. The crowd began panicking and yelling. Then several more pops cracked loudly through the quiet night, and Harry felt as though he had been punched in the chest.

His breath was knocked from his lungs, and then the burning started. Rubbing his searing skin, he was confused when he pulled his hand away and found it soaking wet. Looking down, his palm was completely red and covered with blood. Confusion quickly turned to panic, and Harry got that horrible feeling in his lower belly. Now he could feel the pain radiating from the wound. He noticed that everyone was surrounding the woman who was now lying on the asphalt parking lot floor. No one seemed to notice him. Harry clutched at his wound and stumbled away. He then felt a tingle near the wound. It wasn’t a bad tingle. Just the opposite, in fact. It tingled in a pleasant sort of way. Then, in less than a second, the pain began to disappear. It felt like something was moving under his skin. That sensation definitely wasn’t a pleasant one.

CLINK!

He heard the sound of something metallic hitting the ground. Harry, however, was too busy touching his wound … except … there was no wound. Not anymore. He stuffed his fingers in the bullet hole in his shirt and expanded it with a rip. He felt around. Nothing. Harry blinked a few times.

“What the fuck?” he quietly cursed.

He knelt down and found whatever it was that had just dropped. It was the mushroomed tip of a bullet that had hit him. The metal was still hot and was slightly uncomfortable to hold. More gunshots cracked through the night sky, and they were quickly followed by more screams. Then the police sirens started. In the distance but growing closer were the blue and red flashing lights of the police. Harry did not want to be there when they arrived. He yelped loudly as his body burst into flames. Just as he vaguely remembered, the flames didn’t hurt. His vision was tinted in a smattering of yellows and oranges as he suddenly felt weightless. As the flames around him exploded, Harry abruptly vanished from sight, leaving several witnesses shocked and frightened even more than they already were.

Magical Mutations

The mutant called Storm felt a shiver go through her body, though it wasn’t cold in her lab. She always kept the thermostat at an even sixty-eight degrees, neither hot nor cold. The rest of the school was usually kept a few degrees cooler. Putting the strange sensation out of her mind, she went back to analyzing a sample of blood. Helping the Professor study mutant genetics always made her feel peaceful for some strange reason. While she wasn’t a doctor, she had been trained to operate the various genetic analyzers scattered throughout the lab. After turning the machine on, she was forced to wait. That was the hardest part about studying blood … having to wait hours or even days for the test results to come back. ‘Ororo…’ she suddenly heard in her head. There was no doubt who that was. She had heard his voice in her head a thousand times before. ‘Please meet me in my office.’

‘Of course, Professor,’ she thought, knowing Professor Xavier would hear it. She gave the blood analyzer one last glare as if to threaten it to work faster before she huffed and stood up.

Ororo Munroe was a gorgeous woman who looked more like a model than a stuffy teacher. Even wearing her long, white lab coat, she gave off a sensual vibe that came naturally to her. She left her office and walked to the elevator with only the soft clicking of her heels on the hard ground to keep her company. Though no one could see it, her hips were swaying in a way that accentuated her slim waist and wide hips. Once inside, she pressed the button for the top floor. The ride was only a few seconds before the doors slid open, revealing the hallway of an elegantly decorated mansion. From there, it was a short walk to the Professor’s office. She softly knocked on the door and was instructed to come in … verbally this time. As she did, she found Professor Xavier sitting behind his desk with his fingers steepled.

“Thank you for coming, Storm. I apologize for calling you in so late,” Professor X said as he rolled around the desk in his motorized wheelchair.

“It’s not a problem, Professor. I was just running those samples, and I guess I lost track of time,” she said, sitting in the chair opposite the Professor’s desk. This was usual behavior for her. She sometimes got caught up in her work and completely forgot about everything else.

“Nevertheless, I’m glad that I didn’t wake you,” he smiled, and Storm returned it.

Storm sat with perfect posture in front of the desk. Her eyes were icy blue, and her white hair glimmered against the light brown skin of her neck. She patiently looked right at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Xavier didn’t bother with small talk. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”

Ororo raised an eyebrow. “The tremor? Yes, Professor. It was subtle, but very powerful.” She hesitated, then admitted, “It made me … nervous.”

He nodded, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. “I can’t remember the last time I felt such a psychic disturbance. Not even when Jean first emerged.”

Storm’s lips parted. She said, “It was that powerful?”

“It’s beyond classification.” Xavier leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with focus. “It is as though a consciousness folded in on itself, then exploded outward. I need to know more, Ororo. I need to find it.”

He waited for her response, and she didn’t disappoint. “Cerebro?”

“Yes. I’ll need your help to reach full resonance.”

Storm stood immediately, and a long white curtain of thick, luxurious hair fell across her shoulder as she did. “I will prepare the chamber, Professor,” she told him. She didn’t ask for details, and he appreciated her discipline. She gracefully pivoted on her heels and led the way out, holding the door for him as he navigated his wheelchair.

The elevator was empty and gleamed with polished steel. The ride was silent except for the click of the Professor’s chair as it rolled forward when the doors opened on the lower level. They went past the War Room and past the Danger Room, where the floor was scored from the day’s training.

At the far end of the hall stood a massive door that looked out of place, as if it belonged in a spaceship or at a missile silo. Ororo pressed her palm to the reader. The door hissed and slid aside.

Inside, the dome-shaped Cerebro chamber glowed soft blue. At its center was one of the most powerful and sophisticated machines in the world. The hum was gentle but constant, and the air smelled ionized. Storm busied herself at the control panels, her elegant fingers moving with calm efficiency. “All systems are nominal, Professor. The power is set at seventy percent. Did you want full amplification?”

“Please,” Xavier confirmed.

She flicked a switch, and the air practically vibrated. A faint static charge prickled Xavier’s scalp. He rolled to the center of the room and lifted the helmet from its cradle. The inside was lined with soft gray padding, and the outside was covered in cables and fiber-optic nodes. Storm gently placed the helmet onto his head before checking the connections.

“It’s ready,” she announced.

Xavier’s voice was distant now, already halfway inside his own mind. “Begin the sequence.”

The hum climbed an octave. The rings of Cerebro flickered with blue light, and the room seemed to shrink to a point before expanding into infinity. Xavier closed his eyes, exhaled, and let his mind drop into the network.

Millions of thoughts pressed against him instantly. He could hear the whispering thoughts of his students, the groundskeepers, the neighbors, and then the whole sprawl of human life in Westchester and beyond. Each mind was like a candle flame in a dark room. He tuned them out, searching for the nova.

It wasn’t difficult to find it. It blazed brightly and then vanished, and Xavier pursued it. The mind was slippery, not like a mutant but not quite human either. He sensed fear and confusion. Then, for a single moment, he saw it. There were a pair of green eyes floating in fire, a scream that never left the throat, and a memory that fractured into a thousand shards. He almost recoiled, but instead, he pressed harder.

The eyes looked at him, and Xavier tried to speak. However, the mind recoiled and fell away. Then there was blackness. Back in the chamber, Xavier opened his eyes, his face drenched with sweat. Storm’s hand was instantly on his arm. “Professor! Are you alright?”

He coughed and then nodded. “Yes. I found it. I saw him.”

Storm’s gaze sharpened. “Him?”

Xavier licked his dry lips. “A young man … or at least, he was once. He has been through something catastrophic, Ororo. I don’t even know if he knows what he is.”

Storm worriedly studied the Professor. “Was it a mutant event, or something else?”

Xavier hesitated before saying, “If I had to guess, it was triggered by a powerful cosmic force.” He didn’t add that he’d seen flashes of Jean in the mind. The echo of that raw cosmic violence was chilling to behold.

Storm’s nostrils flared. “Is he dangerous?”

“I do not believe so, but he has the potential to be the most dangerous being on Earth.” Xavier’s voice was steady, but the gravity of it sank into her. “We must reach him before he hurts someone.”

She nodded, but her lips pressed into a hard line. “Where is he?”

Xavier gestured at the monitor. “Not far. He is in the town of Avon, near a truck stop on Route 20. He’s frightened and unstable.”

Storm didn’t need to be told what to do. “I’ll go,” she said. “If you wish, I’ll take Logan as backup.”

“Yes, take Logan. He has a way of talking people down, or at least, not making things worse.” Xavier smiled, but Storm only looked grimly resolved.

She helped him remove the helmet, careful not to tangle the silver cords. He was pale, but he gestured for her to leave the Cerebro chamber and join him in the corridor. “Ororo, this is important,” he said in a low voice. “If he has any memory of what happened … if the Phoenix Force left any trace … treat him with compassion. He is not our enemy. At least, not yet.”

Storm straightened and squared her shoulders. “I understand, Professor.”

He caught her wrist before she could leave. “And Ororo? Please, be careful. You’ve never met anyone like this before.” She nodded once and then swept down the corridor, her coat billowing behind her.

Xavier sat in his wheelchair for a long minute, feeling the residual throb of Cerebro in his temples, and he wondered if this was how gods felt as they looked down on a planet full of mortals, knowing the next disaster was just one heartbeat away. He hoped, for everyone’s sake, that Ororo would reach the boy before anyone else did.

Magical Mutations

Storm found Logan outside the gym, a rolled cigar in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other. His hair stuck up like claws, and he wore a pair of ratty jeans and an old army t-shirt that barely fit around his biceps.

He saw her coming and said, “I take it we got a job?”

Storm nodded. “We’re heading to Avon. The Professor sensed a new emergence.”

Logan barked a laugh. “Let me guess. He wants it brought in gentle-like?”

Storm’s voice was clipped. “He’s scared, and maybe unstable. You are not to antagonize him, Logan.”

Logan took a pull from the cigar, then crushed it out on the wall. “If he pops claws, I’ll pop mine. Otherwise, I’ll be a model citizen.”

Storm rolled her eyes, but she trusted him to do as he was told. “Car or jet?” Logan asked, tossing the empty mug in a perfect arc to the trash.

“Car,” Storm replied. “He might freak out if we come in hot.”

“Got it.” Logan cracked his neck and started toward the garage with Storm at his side. “You want to tell me what he is, or do I get to find out the fun way?”

Storm shook her head and said, “The Professor was vague, though I think he knows what it is. That tells me that it’s probably not good.”

Logan froze for a second. “Shit.”

“Yes,” Storm agreed. “So let’s make sure this pick-up ends better than the last.”

They reached the elevator, and Storm was already calculating strategies. Logan just grunted and pressed the down button. As the doors slid shut, neither of them said another word.