𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 -and lost just as many reasons to keep going.
Natalie Parker, once hidden in the shadows of history, is a mutant unlike any other. Bound to the earth by blood and power, her touch coaxes life from st...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Who are you?"
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Covert CIA Research Base
Natalie made her way down the long corridor of the facility, her boots echoing softly against the polished floor. She was heading to see Hank, but paused when she heard unfamiliar voices drifting from the lab.
There was a small group gathered around him.
"So your mutation is... what? You're just really smart?" asked a young blonde woman, her arms folded playfully. Her voice was sharp, curious.
"That's one way to put it," came Hank's awkward reply.
"I'll say," said a smooth British voice. "Hank here graduated Harvard at fifteen."
"Charles," Hank sighed, shaking his head.
Charles chuckled. "Don't be modest. You're among friends now, Hank. Show off a little."
From her spot around the corner, Natalie frowned. How does he know that?
Hank hesitated. Then, reluctantly, he slipped off his shoes and socks. Natalie could hear the small gasp from the group, followed by light laughter. She leaned out just far enough to see.
His feet weren't feet at all—they were hands.
"Splendid," Charles said, with a grin of genuine admiration.
Hank, clearly embarrassed but playing along, flipped up into a handstand using his... well, foot-hands, balancing effortlessly on top of the sleek model jet he'd been building. He hung upside down with a sheepish smile.
"Ta-da," he said with a half-laugh.
The group chuckled, impressed.
"You're amazing," the blonde woman said warmly, stepping closer to him.
Hank flushed. "Really?"
Natalie straightened her shoulders and stepped into the room.
"That's not the only thing Hank can do," she announced.
The room went silent as the group turned to look at her. Hank quickly dropped down and stood upright again.
Charles tilted his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. And then Natalie felt it—something brushing against her mind. A gentle push. An attempt to look inside.
She smirked and let her power reflect the probe back like a mirror. Charles blinked in surprise.
"My name's Natalie Parker," she said evenly. "Try all you like, but you won't get into my head."
Charles's eyes lit with intrigue. He stepped forward and extended a hand. "Charles Xavier. This is Raven, and that's Erik."
Natalie shook his hand firmly.
"Incredible," Charles murmured. "I've never met someone like you."
Jordan, dressed in his usual tailored black suit, entered behind her with his signature crisp smile.
"Natalie's been with us since the very beginning," he said. "Our first. Back then, we thought she might be the only one."
"Clearly that's changed," Charles noted.
Raven tilted her head. "And what can you do, exactly?"
"Oh, quite a bit," Natalie said, a flicker of pride in her tone. "I can create and manipulate the elements—earth, fire, water, air. Nature itself responds to me. I can regenerate using its energy. And, as you just discovered, I can reflect telepathic and telekinetic force."
Charles raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.
"But that's not my favourite," she continued. "I empathize with living things. I can sense truth, feel lies. I can't read your mind—but I can feel your heart."
"Impressive," Erik said softly, his accent revealing his roots.
Natalie smiled, eyes meeting his. "Thanks."
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The next day, the group gathered in a spherical chamber deep within the facility. The room had once been used as an old radar station—but Hank had transformed it into something far more advanced.
A transmitter.
They were about to test it for the first time.
"This," Hank said, gesturing to the large domed structure overhead, "is Cerebro."
Charles arched an eyebrow. "Spanish for 'brain,' isn't it?"
Hank grinned. "Exactly."
Cerebro's core chamber was compact and sleek. A glowing circle was embedded in the floor, and above it hovered a metal headpiece, wired to an intricate web of tech that Hank had painstakingly designed.
He stepped toward the control panels, his excitement obvious.
"Okay, so the electrodes will connect Charles's brain to the transmitter on the roof," Hank explained. "It'll pick up the signals of other mutants. Their locations will appear here—on the printout screen."
Raven, Erik, and Natalie stood near him, watching closely.
"You built this yourself?" Raven asked.
"Yeah," Hank replied, brushing off the compliment.
Charles stepped beneath the helmet and positioned it carefully over his head.
"You make an adorable lab rat," Erik said, smirking.
"Don't ruin this for me, Erik," Charles replied with mock irritation.
"I was a lab rat," Erik said, quieter. "I know one when I see one."
"Okay, we're ready," Hank announced, flipping a switch. "Are you sure we can't shave your head for this?"
"Don't touch my hair," Charles warned.
Everyone chuckled, but the tension in the room was palpable.
The helmet began to glow a soft blue. A low hum filled the space, building steadily as the machine powered up. Charles gripped the railing in front of him, his breathing deepening.
Then a pulse of white light shot through Cerebro.
Charles gasped, tightening his hold.
"Charles?" Natalie stepped forward, concern etching her face.
He grit his teeth, but then a grin broke through. "I'm all right," he said through a strained breath.
The machine whirred louder.
Then—click click click. The printer began spitting out names and coordinates.
Hank beamed. "It's working!"
Charles laughed, amazed.
Natalie watched, her heart pounding. Something was changing.
