Emperor of Mankind (Naruto X Marvel )

Rogue stepped through the front door of her childhood home, her boots barely making a sound against the polished wooden floor. The house was exactly as she remembered—familiar yet strangely foreign, as if time had frozen since she last walked through these halls. The scent of old books, herbal tea, and faint traces of perfume lingered in the air, pulling at the memories she had tried so hard to suppress.

Despite the warmth of the space, an uneasy feeling settled in her chest. Coming back here meant confronting the past, a past she wasn't sure she was ready to face. But leaving a loved one behind—even temporarily—was never easy, no matter how logical the decision.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a voice she hadn't heard in a long time.

"Anna."

Rogue turned towards the living room, where a familiar figure stood near the window. Irene Adler—her adoptive mother—looked almost the same as she remembered. A middle-aged woman with short brown hair, wearing a simple green shirt and blue jeans. The black shades over her eyes remained, hiding the milky white pupils that marked her as the mutant known as Destiny.

"Mother," Rogue acknowledged softly, stepping forward.

Irene's lips curled into a small, almost wistful smile. "Come, let's talk over tea. We have much to discuss."

There was something tender in the way she spoke, a gentle tone that reminded Rogue of the rare moments of warmth she had experienced in this home. Despite being raised under the Brotherhood's banner, Irene had never been unkind to her. Stern, yes. A mentor, a guide—but also a mother in her own way.

Rogue followed her into the kitchen, the familiarity of the space making her feel both comforted and unsettled. The old oak table, the porcelain teapot that had once belonged to Raven, the delicate cups Irene always used—everything was exactly the same. It was as if no time had passed, yet she felt like an entirely different person sitting at this table.

Irene poured two cups of steaming tea, her movements precise and practiced. As she set the cup in front of Rogue, she let out a quiet sigh.

"I am sorry," Irene murmured. "For the secrets, for the things I kept from you. But please understand, I have always thought of you as my daughter."

Rogue stared into the amber liquid in her cup, her fingers tightening slightly around the handle. The words felt real, genuine.

"Then tell me somethin'," Rogue said after a moment, looking up. "Why do you support the Brotherhood when they're a danger to themselves and everyone around them?"

Irene exhaled slowly, as if she had expected the question. She took a sip of her tea before answering.

"It is not something easy to explain," she admitted. "My life has been… complicated. I wasn't always this person, and my choices were shaped by what I endured. I have suffered under the hands of humans, Anna. And I have seen the future—the horrors that await us if we do nothing. There will come a time when anti-mutant organizations rise against us, hunting our kind like wild animals."

Rogue watched her carefully, feeling the weight of those words settle over her.

Since absorbing Naruto's abilities, she had gained an acute sense of truth and deception—something about his power let her perceive lies with unnatural clarity. And right now, she knew Irene wasn't lying.

'I can tell when someone's lyin' now… must be part of Naruto's power. And if Mother can see glimpses of the future, then she really believes this.'

Rogue let out a breath. "I trust your words, but I still want to see things for myself. I need to experience this world without anyone else's bias. I've spent too long bein' told what to believe. It's time I make my own choices."

Irene nodded, as if she had anticipated that answer. "I understand," she said simply.

A moment of silence passed before her expression turned more serious. "But tell me… do you truly trust this man so much? Haven't you only just met him? I hope it's not because you've been charmed by him."

Rogue nearly choked on her tea. "No, no way!" she quickly denied, her face heating up.

Irene's lips twitched slightly in amusement.

"I just—" Rogue sighed, composing herself. "I just feel safe around him, you know? He's… a good person. He may be insensitive at times, but he understands me. Completely." She hesitated, then continued, her voice softer. "He's been through worse than I have. And I absorbed his powers… I need his help to control them. Right now, everything feels too fragile. If I'm not careful, I could break somethin'—or someone."

As she spoke, a small, peaceful smile crossed her lips, one that Irene didn't fail to notice.

She sees him as more than just an ally, Irene realized. He's already brought her out of the shell she built around herself.

"I see," Irene said, nodding. "Then it is good. I only want you to be happy, Anna. No matter what path you take, I will support you." She stood up, walking around the table before gently wrapping her arms around Rogue from behind.

Rogue stiffened, instinctively preparing to pull away, but then something strange happened.

Nothing.

For the first time in her life, there was no rush of power, no overwhelming flood of memories that weren't hers, no fear of draining someone's life away with a single touch.

Irene was warm—gently warm, like sunlight after a cold winter.

Rogue sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted them, hesitating before slowly placing them over Irene's arms.

Still… nothing.

The realization hit her all at once—she could touch her mother. She could feel her mother.

Tears welled in her eyes as she gripped Irene's hands tighter, her breath shuddering. "Ma…"

Irene felt the shift as well. Her arms tightened, pulling Rogue into a full embrace, one filled with more emotion than any words could convey.

"I'm so proud of you, Anna," Irene whispered, her voice soft and full of love. "You've come so far."

Rogue let out a small laugh, though it was wet with emotion. "I—It's still weird, not wearin' gloves. Feels like I'm doin' somethin' wrong."

Irene chuckled lightly, running a comforting hand down her back. "You're not. You're just finally free."

For a moment, Rogue let herself sink into the warmth, letting go of all the walls she had built around herself. She had spent years in isolation, terrified of hurting the people she cared about. But now… she wasn't a danger anymore.

She was finally home.

Jean walked through the quiet halls of the X-Mansion, her mind weighed down by the events of the evening. The encounter had left her shaken—more than she cared to admit. She had faced powerful enemies before, fought alongside immortals, but tonight had been different. There had been no battle, no struggle, just the overwhelming certainty of death lingering in the air like a whisper in her ear.

As she approached Charles Xavier's study, she hesitated for the first time in years. The warm glow of the lamp inside illuminated the space beneath the door, and she could hear the faint rustling of pages turning. Taking a calming breath, she raised her hand and knocked.

"Come in," came the familiar, composed voice from within.

Jean stepped inside, finding the professor seated in his usual spot, a large, leather-bound book resting on his lap. He closed it gently, turning to face her with the same measured calmness he always carried.

But Jean knew better. He already knew what had happened.

Still, he asked, "How was it?"

Jean exhaled, standing tall despite the storm of emotions within her. "I failed," she admitted. "An alien being interfered."

If Charles was surprised, he didn't show it. He only studied her with quiet patience, his fingers tapping lightly against the book's cover.

"He must not have been an enemy if you are here without a scratch," he observed. "But why did he interfere?"

Jean's eyes narrowed slightly, recalling Naruto's carefree yet unshakably firm presence. "He seemed like a nice guy," she answered carefully, "but he just wanted to help the young girl. He had met her before we arrived, and they seemed to have formed a connection. In the end, the girl chose him over us."

At that, Charles raised a brow.

Jean sighed, crossing her arms. "But he told her to attend the school. We can expect to see her tomorrow."

Charles leaned back slightly, his expression contemplative. "Oh? So it worked out in the end. However, if he intends to accompany her, we should be prepared. What is his danger level?"

Jean hesitated. Her fingers tightened around her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"I don't think I even stand a chance against him," she admitted, her voice quieter than before. "If he was an enemy, we'd be dead. He was… nonchalant. As if none of us even registered as a threat."

Her hands clenched into fists as she remembered the moment—Naruto standing there, relaxed but exuding an overwhelming sense of authority. The moment his eyes had met hers, she had felt it—raw, undiluted killing intent pressing against her soul. It had lasted only a fraction of a second, but in that instant, she had felt like a child standing before an executioner.

"He was serious," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dead serious when he warned us to be good. He said he'd erase us if we broke his rules."

A shiver ran down her spine, involuntary and uncontrollable. She had faced gods, fought alongside the Phoenix Force itself, and yet… she had never experienced bloodlust like that before. It was ancient. Infinite.

Charles remained silent for a long moment, his fingers steepled together.

"I see," he finally said, his tone unreadable. "That would be difficult to handle. But if he is an outsider of such power, then surely the Sorcerer Supreme must have already encountered him. If Doctor Strange has not acted against him, then we should not need to fear him either."

Jean exhaled slowly, nodding. "That was my thought as well. But still… having someone like that here, so close to the students, it's unsettling."

Charles offered her a small, knowing smile. "We will welcome them tomorrow," he assured her. But his words held a deeper meaning. This was not just about one mutant girl anymore. If someone like Naruto had taken an interest in their world, the consequences could be far greater than any of them had anticipated.

Jean nodded but didn't move to leave. Her expression had shifted, her eyes serious, almost hesitant.

Charles studied her for a moment. "There's something else on your mind," he noted.

Jean met his gaze. "Yes," she admitted.

Jean's gaze was sharp, her emotions unreadable as she studied Charles. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows over the worn bookshelves and the polished surface of his desk. The faint glow from his desk lamp flickered slightly, yet the atmosphere was heavier than usual.

"Charles, is there something wrong with having more power?" she asked, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Why would you ask that?"

Jean hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "He told me that I need to cooperate with the Phoenix," she admitted. "Otherwise, we will die when a threat appears to destroy us all."

Charles went still, his hands clasping together as he leaned back in his chair. For the briefest moment, he was not Professor X—the world's greatest telepath—but the man who had once taken in a terrified little girl whose power had already left devastation in its wake.

He remembered that day vividly.

A neighborhood reduced to rubble. Fire, screams, sirens wailing in the distance. A ten-year-old Jean, curled up in the wreckage, eyes wide with terror, her mind a chaotic storm of raw, uncontrolled thoughts and emotions. Her powers had erupted when she felt the pain of everyone around her—an explosion of energy that took the lives of her parents and several others.

It had taken both him and Erik—Magneto himself—to stabilize her, to shield her mind from the agony that had threatened to consume her. They had barely succeeded.

And that was before the Phoenix had truly awakened within her.

Years later, when Jean neared her twenties, it had resurfaced—stronger, darker, uncontrollable. Worlds had burned. She had killed with her own hands, though not by her own will. The Phoenix had whispered to her, manipulated her, driven her to take lives, to revel in destruction.

That force was no mere cosmic entity—it was a harbinger of annihilation.

Charles took a deep breath and met Jean's gaze. "Power itself isn't wrong," he said carefully. "It's how we use it that defines us. But I would never advocate for that vile being. We can't cooperate with it. It will never listen to us."

Jean frowned. "He said he can help me."

Charles' expression darkened slightly. "Did he?" He folded his hands on the desk, his voice turning serious. "Jean, how extreme is this threat that we would need to take such drastic steps? Let me see what took place."

Jean hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Of course."

She stepped closer, allowing Charles access to her memories. Their minds connected instantly, and Charles found himself immersed in her recollections.

Then, something impossible happened.

The Naruto within the memory turned—no, not just turned. He acknowledged him.

'Charles.'

The professor's breath caught in his throat. He was just an observer, watching Jean's memories. It should have been impossible for anyone inside them to notice him.

But Naruto did.

'I know this force personally,' Naruto's voice echoed in his mind. 'And you should realize by now what kind of world you live in. It is better for Jean to become an ultimate being to safeguard your world than to leave it in the hands of some unknown force that might not care about your planet.'

Charles felt his consciousness tremble. The words were spoken with certainty, with authority. And with them came visions—fragments of memories not his own. He saw flashes of beings like Naruto, creatures of immense power who devoured worlds without a second thought.

Otsutsuki.

So that is what he truly is.

Charles withdrew from Jean's mind, gasping as he came back to himself. His hands trembled slightly, but he steadied them.

Jean watched him closely. "You saw something, didn't you?" she asked.

He exhaled slowly, his face paler than before. "I did."

For a moment, he was silent, digesting what he had learned. He had felt Naruto's power, even through a memory. It was terrifying, and yet…

"Let us see what this man has to offer before we take such a drastic step," Charles finally said. "We need to be sure he isn't manipulating us into a trap. If his proposal is genuine, we will consider it. But I will not take any action without certainty."

Jean studied him, then nodded. "Thanks for being honest, Charles." She smiled softly, stepping back toward the door. "And good night. Be sure to get some sleep."

Charles blinked in mild surprise at the gentleness in her tone.

"I know you stay awake," she added knowingly. "So please—for us, sleep."

He chuckled, genuinely touched by her concern. "I will," he promised.

As Jean left the room, Charles let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His mind buzzed with possibilities, dangers, and the weight of the future that now rested upon them.

For the first time in years, he felt small in the grand scheme of things.