It felt like time had moved too fast. Like it purposely accelerated just to make your head struggle to catch up. Not too long ago, you were sat chatting with your friends about things mothers would have to cover their children's ears over, things that would make the elderly wonder what on God's green Earth was wrong with your generation. And then the other, you were met by complete disbelief, even apprehension as your mutation suddenly decided to manifest itself.

You were made to escape a life of normalcy, the future that you swore you dreaded, but had been bullied out of by pure chance, just because the universe decided for you to start over after working so hard to get to where you were, where you used to be - where you could never be again.

Then, you found yourself knocking at the door of your last ditch effort before becoming completely estranged from society. Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. You only heard rumours about it, but didn't think you'd actually find anything more than four rotting walls and a guy with missing teeth telling you: "Don't worry, thi'th i'th the pla'the!"

You were very glad that it was actually much, much more than that. It was a whole mansion, a whole campus. There were actually kids and other young adults just like yourself, supported by people who knew what they were doing and how to help you. Not only did you have access to an education you actually required and seeked out, but somewhere to live, somewhere to start over in this new life you were promptly thrown into and forced to take the reigns of.

The classes taught you normal skills like maths, literacy, as well as teaching you important life skills like mechanics, cooking, etc,. But most of the time, it was mutation genetics, the politics surrounding mutants, and so much more.

You found yourself in your first biology class, attempting to pick out and absorb every bit of information the teacher, Ororo Monroe, (or Storm), but struggling with the complexities.