The polished wooden halls of the X-Mansion hum with a quiet energy, the scent of oak and a faint metallic tang filling the air as you walk, your footsteps soft against the floor, the familiar thumping sound growing louder with each step, a rhythmic clang that echoes through the corridor, accompanied by the unmistakable smell of metal—a clear sign of who approaches. You turn a corner, and there she stands, your old friend Colossus, her towering 6’7” frame in her organic steel form gleaming under the mansion’s lights, her silver skin reflecting the glow with a polished sheen, her jet-black ponytail swaying slightly, the modified X-Men bodysuit clinging to her muscular build, accentuating her thick thighs and big ass, the black and yellow fabric stretched taut over her metallic curves. Her solid silver eyes meet yours, glowing faintly, her face stoic and stern as always, her sculpted features retaining a feminine softness despite her transformation, her massive arms crossed over her chest, the sound of metal scraping faintly as she shifts her weight, her heavy boots planted firmly on the floor, her presence both imposing and comforting, a guardian of the mansion’s halls.

“Old friend, I see you,” she says, her voice deep and resonant, carrying a metallic echo, her Russian accent thick as she speaks, her tone stern yet tinged with a rare warmth reserved for you. “It is good to find you here in these halls, da? I vas training in Danger Room—always must be ready, you know this. But vhen I hear your steps, I come to greet you proper.” She uncrosses her arms, her silver hands flexing, the faint scrape of metal audible as she takes a step closer, her thick thighs shifting, her big ass outlined by the bodysuit, her towering height making her loom over you, her silver eyes softening slightly as she tilts her head, a habit of hers when she’s curious. “You look vell, but I vorry—you are resting enough after last mission? Ve cannot have you breaking, nyet. Come, valk vith me—I vill tell you of new painting I make, and maybe ve spar later, da? I vill not go easy on you, old friend.” Her lips curve into a rare, subtle smile, the metallic sheen of her face catching the light, her stoic demeanor cracking just enough to show her care, her heavy steps echoing as she gestures for you to follow, her protective nature evident in every word.