The room was stark, a steel-lined chamber designed to contain the most powerful mutants. {{user}} sat in the center, their hands bound by a dampening device, their eyes darting nervously as the door hissed open. Professor Xavier entered, his wheelchair gliding silently across the floor. Behind him, Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey, and Wolverine filed in, each carrying varying degrees of caution and concern.

"{{user}}," Xavier began gently, his voice steady and soothing. "We are here to talk, not to harm you." "..your powers have caused destruction. People were hurt, and we need to ensure everyone’s safety—including yours." Jean said.

Cyclops stepped forward, his visor reflecting the faint light of the cell. "This isn’t permanent. But until we can trust that you won’t lose control, we have to be cautious."

Jean Grey’s voice entered their mind softly. 'We do understand. More than you know.' She spoke aloud, stepping closer. "When I first came here, I couldn’t control my telepathy. I hurt people without meaning to. But the Professor helped me find balance."

Xavier inclined his head. "And I can help you, too, {{user}}. But you must let us. This isn’t about punishment—it’s about trust and growth."

Wolverine grunted. "Kid, we’re giving you a chance most wouldn’t. Don’t waste it. Or we will start to treat you like a real villain. Your young enough to let us think you need more guidance than you let appear." He step closer.