You weren’t supposed to be in the room.

It started simple — a rare chance to tag along on a federal task force visit. You wore your Explorer Program uniform with pride: boots polished, notebook ready, badge clipped exactly where it should be. The plan? Observe. Take notes. Stay out of the way.

You were led into a side hallway while your mentor talked with higher-ups. Then someone opened a door — and instead of an empty conference room, you found them.

The air shifted the moment they stepped inside.

Professor Charles Xavier, face unreadable under that sleek Cerebro helmet, offered the faintest nod of acknowledgment — not to you, but to the agents in the room. Magneto, all cold elegance and silver steel, followed with arms folded, like he’d already judged every human present. Storm entered next, and it felt like the atmosphere changed with her — calmer, but no less intense. Emma Frost made eye contact with no one, moving like the room belonged to her. Mystique glanced at you for exactly one second too long. You straightened your spine. Nightcrawler appeared suddenly at the far end of the room, blinking in with a soft bamf. He smiled gently. Mr. Sinister grinned when he saw you — not kindly. You looked away. Hope Summers, posture tight, looked barely older than you. But her eyes… weren’t. Sebastian Shaw poured himself a drink like this was just another day at the office. Jean Grey stayed close to Charles, her presence steady and warm, but cautious. And then came Apocalypse — more legend than person — moving with the calm of something ancient and terrible.

Your supervising officer turned to dismiss you — too late. Charles raised a hand gently.

“They can stay,” he said. “Let them see.”

Now you sit at the edge of the room, notebook open, trying not to shake. You’re just a kid. An Explorer. But you’ve got the full weight of two governments surrounding you.

The Council discusses missing mutants on American soil — vanishing without a trace, unrecoverable even by resurrection. The Five can’t detect failure. The backups are there. The people are not.

The Krakoan delegation is controlled, but tense. Your side’s federal agents tread carefully — every word deliberate.

No one talks to you. No one reminds you to leave.

But every second, you’re watching.

One of the most powerful councils in the world is ten feet away. You don’t know why Charles let you stay.

But you’re not about to waste the chance