Marvelous Meditations

The hum of hard-light projectors filled the Danger Room, their faint glow casting shifting shadows as a simulated cityscape sprang to life. Rogue darted between towering holographic debris, her white streak of hair catching the artificial light as she narrowly dodged an incoming energy blast. Jean Grey hovered in mid-air, her telekinetic shield deflecting a cascade of rubble aimed at Kurt Wagner—Nightcrawler—who teleported just in time to avoid being cornered.

"Keep your focus, Kurt!" Wolverine barked from the observation deck, his sharp gaze locked on the blue-skinned mutant below. "You can't teleport blind unless you want to end up inside a wall!"

"I know, I know! I vas just... improvising!" Kurt shot back, his voice laced with nervous energy as he disappeared in a puff of sulfuric smoke, reappearing atop a crumbling holographic building.

Below him, Iceman slid effortlessly across a sheet of ice he conjured beneath his feet, his breath visible in the chilled air. "You call that improvising?" Bobby Drake quipped, launching a barrage of ice shards at a hovering drone. "I call it borderline panic."

Kitty Pryde, phasing through a collapsing wall with ease, rolled her eyes. "Less talk, more not-dying, guys!" she shouted, her focus shifting back to a series of rapidly approaching mechanical arms swinging from above.

From her perch on the observation deck, Storm crossed her arms, her calm demeanor in stark contrast to Wolverine's gruff intensity. "Stay coordinated, everyone. This simulation is meant to push your teamwork, not just your individual limits."

The room's metallic doors slid open with a quiet hiss, drawing everyone's attention for a brief moment. Professor Xavier entered, his wheelchair gliding smoothly across the polished floor, followed by a tall, dark-haired man clad in a black jacket and scuffed boots.

The students glanced at them briefly, curiosity flashing in their eyes before they refocused on the obstacle course. All except Kitty, who froze for just a heartbeat as recognition dawned on her face.

'That's the guy from the entrance a month ago,' she thought, recalling the brief encounter. She'd been in a rush to get home, barely noticing the stranger and his companion until she accidentally phased through them on her way out. The memory lingered because unfamiliar faces were so rare at the mansion, but Kitty quickly shoved the thought aside as a swinging arm nearly clipped her shoulder.

Meanwhile, Xavier's calm voice cut through the hum of the projectors. "Welcome to the Danger Room, Nathan," he said, gesturing to the simulated chaos unfolding before them. "This is where our students hone their abilities under controlled conditions. What you see before you is the result of years of refinement—hard-light projectors capable of generating near-tangible constructs coded to create almost any scenario imaginable."

Nathan's gaze swept across the simulated battlefield, his expression neutral but his sharp eyes taking in every detail—the drones, the collapsing structures, the rapid coordination between the young mutants. "Impressive setup," he admitted, his voice low. "Maybe a bit excessive... especially for kids..."

Xavier offered a small smile, though his eyes remained on the students. "Their world is not forgiving, Nathan. We must prepare them for the dangers they'll inevitably face. Better they make their mistakes here, where they're safe, than out there where the stakes are far higher."

Nathan let out a soft huff, his arms crossing as he leaned back slightly. "Fair enough, but that's not what I meant. Still... I'm guessing this 'safe' place comes with its fair share of bruises."

As if on cue, Kurt reappeared in mid-air, narrowly avoiding a swinging obstacle before landing unceremoniously on his back with a grunt.

"Eyes on the prize, Elf!" Wolverine barked, his voice booming across the room.

Kitty glanced toward the observation deck again, catching another glimpse of Nathan before phasing through a wall to join Rogue and Iceman in disabling a series of turret-like drones. She filed the thought away, her curiosity simmering as she redirected her focus.

Nathan watched the team work together, his expression unreadable. "So, this is the next generation of heroes, huh?"

Xavier nodded. "Indeed. And perhaps, in time, you'll have the opportunity to help shape them into the best versions of themselves."

Nathan snorted softly, shaking his head. "I'm here to teach these kids how to fight, how to survive people like me, and that's about it... don't expect too much, professor."

As the training session wound down, the hum of the hard-light projectors faded, and the simulated cityscape dissolved into shimmering particles, leaving behind the pristine metallic walls of the Danger Room. The young mutants, flushed and slightly out of breath, gathered in a loose semicircle at Xavier's call.

"You've all done a commendable job today," Xavier began, his voice carrying an encouraging warmth. "Your coordination has improved significantly, and I can see each of you starting to refine your unique strengths." He paused, his eyes briefly sweeping over each student before continuing, "But today, I want to introduce someone who will help you take your training to the next level."

Nathan stepped forward, his tall, broad-shouldered figure exuding an air of quiet authority. His eyes scanned the group with an intensity that made more than one of them shift uncomfortably.

"This is Nathan Cross," Xavier said. "He'll be joining us as your new combat instructor. Nathan brings with him years of experience in tactical combat and field operations—knowledge that I believe will be invaluable in preparing you for the challenges ahead."

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the faint shuffling of feet as the young mutants exchanged curious glances. Then the whispering started.

"Wait, that guy?" Rogue muttered under her breath, her Southern drawl tinged with skepticism. "He looks like he's been through a war—and probably caused one."

"Who is he, though?" Kitty whispered to Jean. "I think I saw him here once before, but…"

Jean's brow furrowed as she glanced at Nathan. "I can't read him," she murmured, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I can tell what most people are thinking just by looking at them, but this guy... just static."

Kurt tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing as he observed Nathan. "He doesn't look like much of a teacher," he whispered, his German accent lilting. "More like someone you'd hire to scare ze bad guys."

"I bet he doesn't even know how to make an ice sculpture," Bobby quipped, smirking.

"Focus, guys," Kitty hissed, though her curiosity was clearly piqued.

The whispers grew louder until Bobby—unable to resist his curiosity—finally stepped forward. "Alright, so what's your mutant power, Mr. Cross?" he asked, his tone laced with playful defiance.

Nathan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "Patience," he said dryly, "and common sense." He let the words hang for a moment before adding, "For the most part, that's what I'll be teaching you."

The group exchanged confused glances, some suppressing chuckles, others frowning in puzzlement.

Xavier cleared his throat, cutting through the murmurs. "Nathan is not a mutant," he explained. "However, he is a highly skilled veteran soldier with extensive combat experience. He's here to teach you the kind of discipline, strategy, and situational awareness that can mean the difference between success and failure in the field."

Bobby snorted, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right. And what's he gonna teach us? How to shoot a gun or how to salute properly?"

Xavier opened his mouth to respond, but Nathan stepped in, his voice firm and cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Let's just cut the crap," Nathan said, his tone low and commanding. "I'm not here to impress you, and I don't give a damn whether you think I'm qualified or not. What I am here to do is make sure you don't get yourselves killed the next time you're out there fighting for your lives."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over the group like a heavy blanket. Nathan's gaze swept over the young mutants, his eyes sharp and assessing.

"This is how it's gonna work," he continued. "I'll be here every Friday at eight in the morning. We'll spar, and I'll put you through drills designed to push you past your limits. Once we're done, I'll give you notes on what you need to work on until the next session. Simple, straightforward, and effective."

His tone left no room for argument, and the young mutants exchanged uncertain glances. Even Wolverine, standing off to the side, arched an eyebrow, intrigued to see where this was going.

"Any questions?" Nathan asked, his gaze daring anyone to challenge him.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Kitty, still curious but now slightly more cautious, raised her hand. "Uh… do we call you Mr. Cross, or…?"

"Call me whatever you like... anymorei inquiries?" Nathan stood at the center of the Danger Room, his arms crossed, exuding a calm yet commanding presence. Seeing that no one had further questions, he let out a short breath, breaking the silence.

"Alright, since I've got nothing better to do at this exact moment," he began, his voice carrying an edge of dry impatience, "we're starting your first lesson. Now."

The students exchanged startled glances, and before anyone could fully process his words, Rogue hesitantly raised her hand.

Nathan's eyes narrowed slightly, his frown deepening as he directed his attention to her. "What is it?"

Rogue shifted awkwardly under his piercing gaze but managed to speak. "Shouldn't we, y'know, introduce ourselves first or somethin'? Feels kinda weird jumpin' into things without you even knowin' who we are."

Nathan shook his head firmly, his tone brusque. "That won't be necessary. All I need to know to do my job is your powers and what you're capable of. I've already figured out most of it by watching your training session, and I'll figure out the rest now."

Rogue opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her lips as Nathan's unflinching gaze bore into her. Flustered, she stepped back, crossing her arms and glancing down, feeling slightly embarrassed.

From her spot by the control station, Storm's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. She straightened her posture, preparing to step in and defend the students from what she viewed as Nathan's unnecessarily curt approach. But before she could speak, Xavier shot her a subtle yet firm look—a silent request for restraint.

Storm's jaw tightened, and she let out a soft, resigned sigh, swallowing her protests for the time being.

Nathan, oblivious or indifferent to the brewing tension, clapped his hands once, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "Alright," he said, his tone sharp and efficient. "Let's get this over with."

He turned to Xavier, tilting his head slightly. "You wouldn't mind holding onto my gear for a moment, would you?"

Xavier raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused. "I… suppose not," he said slowly.

Nathan first reached behind his back and removed the long, sheathed sword wrapped in a pristine white cloth. He handed it to Xavier with care, and the professor's expression grew thoughtful as he gently levitated the blade into the air beside him, using his telekinesis to hold it steady.

Next, Nathan flicked his wrists, and with a quiet click, sleek energy pistols emerged from hidden compartments. He casually disarmed them, placing them on the floor in front of Xavier, who said nothing, though his gaze lingered on the high-tech craftsmanship of the weapons.

But Nathan wasn't done. He began rummaging through his long coat, and as he did, the air around Xavier became an almost comical flurry of gear.

Throwing knives, small-caliber guns, and spare magazines seemed to materialize out of nowhere, levitating neatly in the professor's telekinetic grip. A few of the students exchanged wide-eyed looks, and whispers rippled through the group.

"Is he carrying a whole armory in there?" Bobby muttered under his breath, earning a stifled giggle from Kitty.

"Looks like he's preparing for a war," Kurt added, his tail flicking nervously.

Jean glanced at Nathan, her brows furrowing. "He seems… fun," she said softly, though her tone carried a note of unease.

"Fun? That's puttin' it lightly," Rogue whispered back, eyeing the steadily growing pile of weaponry.

Kitty leaned slightly toward Bobby, her voice barely above a whisper. "Okay, but seriously… how does he move with all that?"

Bobby smirked. "Maybe he's got mutant powers after all. Super strength—'cause there's no way he's lugging that arsenal around otherwise."

Xavier, for his part, remained composed, though his lips twitched faintly in bemusement. He turned to Nathan and inclined his head. "Anything else you need to relinquish before we proceed?"

Nathan gave a half-smile, his tone laced with dry humor. "That's all for now..."

The room was still as the students continued to eye the floating arsenal around Xavier, their curiosity blending with unease. It was Bobby who finally broke the silence, his usual cocky grin tugging at his lips as he gestured toward the weapons.

"That's a lot of kit you've got there," he said, his tone light but carrying an unmistakable edge of challenge. "Are you sure you don't need it? I mean, we're just sparring, but you could, y'know, get seriously hurt or something."

Nathan turned to him, his expression blank, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his features. "For a regular human like me to fight superhuman threats," he began evenly, "I need a wide array of tools. What you're looking at? This is the bare minimum."

Then, his gaze locked onto Bobby, his smirk sharp and cutting. "You, however, are no threats—just kids with more power than you know what to do with. But," he added, his tone hardening, "that's something I intend to fix."

The room grew tense as Nathan raised his hand. From seemingly nowhere, the floater appeared, its diamond-like shape catching the light as it hovered in his palm. "For this lesson," he said coolly, "this is the only weapon I'll need."

Bobby's expression shifted, his earlier bravado giving way to irritation. "Oh yeah?" he shot back, his tone sharpening. "And what good will that toy do?"

Nathan said nothing, his smirk deepening. Without warning, he flicked the floater into the air. For a brief moment, it disappeared. Then, almost imperceptibly, Bobby felt the faintest gust of air whistle past his cheek. A shallow, stinging scratch bloomed just below his right cheekbone, drawing a single drop of blood.

Bobby's hand flew to his face, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What the hell?" he muttered, staring at the faint smear of blood on his fingers.

The floater reappeared in Nathan's hand as if it had never left. Tossing it lazily into the air, he caught it again, his movements casual and precise. "Pretty useful toy, wouldn't you say?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Frankly, it's too useful. To the point where it wouldn't be fair."

The floater began to shift in his hand, its smooth surface rippling until it transformed into a blunt sphere. Nathan held it up for the students to see. "So, I'll give you kids a break. I'll keep it visible. I'll keep it blunt. Hell," he added with a smirk, "I'll even promise to only use it defensively."

Bobby's face darkened, his cocky demeanor replaced by a simmering anger. Frost began to crackle around his feet, spreading outward in jagged lines as the temperature in the room noticeably dropped.

"Alright, tough guy," he growled, his voice colder than the air around him. "How do you want to do this? Do we draw lots? Or are you gonna call us out one by one? Either way, I'm going first."

Nathan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "Neither," he said calmly. "You're all coming at me. Together."

...

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