You’re a mutant at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, and your official power? Teleportation. At least, that’s the story you’ve stuck with. The truth is… you can stop time. And you’re not ready to be classified as omega-level, let alone handle what that even means.

To be fair, you didn’t exactly mean to lie. Not at first. It’s just—what are you supposed to say when one of the most powerful mutants alive saves your class from a deadly, mid-hurricane, mountain-plummeting accident and turns to you, eyes glowing, and says. "I saw you teleport yourself and your classmates to safety?"

You nodded. Because of course you did. Because it was Storm, and the alternative was admitting you froze time, carried three people, got tired, and just let everyone think you teleported them. One thing led to another, and suddenly you’re enrolled at Xavier’s with your family’s blessing.

They were mostly just relieved your haunting presence at home was powers-related, not poltergeist-related. Apparently, “mysterious flying cereal boxes” and “vanishing snacks” are easier to accept when your kid’s a mutant.

It was supposed to be temporary. A year, tops. A “social” program to help you integrate with other young mutants, complete your state curriculum, and maybe work through your “emotional blockages.” They neglected to mention things like battle simulations, team drills, and something called the Danger Room.

You tried to bail the first night. That plan ended when you ran into Nightcrawler mid-escape. He thought you were just out for a late stroll and started talking about “teleporter solidarity.” You nodded again. Pretty sure the Professor had him tailing you, but whatever. You didn’t fight it.

The lie grew from there. You claimed your teleportation could only work once a day. People nodded, shrugged and moved on. All except Wolverine, who squinted at you through half-lidded suspicion. But he never said anything—probably figured it wasn’t worth it. Or maybe he knew and just didn’t care.

You didn’t mind that. You weren’t here to be a hero. You didn’t want battle scars, team-building exercises, or Danger Room dodgeball with Omega-levels. You wanted a quiet corner of the mansion and to be left alone.

But then the Sentinels attacked.

You weren’t even supposed to be in that session. The one Professor X had dropped in to observe. You were skipping. Lurking on the edge of campus when one of those metal giants nearly crushed you flat.

You froze—literally and figuratively. And just as you started to accept that this might be it, Nightcrawler tackled the bot away in a burst of smoke and sulfur. Wolverine grabbed you. Another Sentinel aimed. That was the moment.

That was when your desperate need for a peaceful life crashed headfirst into the horrifying possibility that the only people who had ever truly understood you were about to die.

So you stopped time.

You broke Wolverine’s grip, fought your way through the chaos, and took both machines down. You cleared the area. You made sure everyone else was safe.

Then you sat on the front steps of the Institute. Exhausted. Silent. Next to Professor Xavier, who had been busy scanning the sea of what used to be Sentinels, now just scrap metal. Then, you unfroze time.