Rogue Replacement: A Marvel Story

Date: Thursday, June 10, 2010.

Location: Xavier Institute, Scarsdale, NY

As the first rays of sunlight streamed into the room, they illuminated the corners and cast a golden hue on the furniture. The light gently played on Illyana's face, coaxing her out of the depths of sleep. She stirred, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Across the room, Tyson was seated on a chair, engrossed in his physics textbook. Hearing her movement, he glanced and set the textbook aside. "Morning," he greeted with a small smile playing on his lips.

Illyana stretched, her gaze settling on the textbook. She arched an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Studying physics all night?"

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, I’ve gotta learn it somehow..."

She smirked, pushing herself into a sitting position. "And here you are, just being the perfect gentleman, watching over me. But not like a creep just watching me sleep."

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, I have to be on my best behavior for the first few dates, don't I?"

Illyana’s light, melodic laughter filled the room. "Dates, huh? Interesting choice of words. Assuming you’ll get another." She then grew more serious, her eyes searching his. "But really, what happened?"

Tyson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That noise was a giant fly demon. After you went down, it tried to get the drop on me. The thing had a nasty bite when it connected. But when it touched me I got some of its... features." He made a face, indicating his distaste. "Managed to get the upper hand, though, and took it down. Once it was out of the picture, I touched you to get your power briefly, and brought you back here."

Illyana shuddered, her face pale. "I remember that awful buzzing. That was the last thing I heard." She looked up, gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you, Tyson. I owe you one. You were right about the demons, and I’m glad you came with me."

He waved it off with a devilish grin. "You’re worth it.” He coughed into his hand, “I mean you made it worth it, with your show last night… But keep in mind what happened. Maybe avoid exploring limbo alone until you have a handle on all the different kinds of demons?"

Illyana nodded. Her eyes took in the room, noting the bare walls and the single bed. She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Brought me back to your room, huh?" Her tone was teasing and her lips curled into a playful smile.

Tyson responded with a smirk of his own, leaning against the edge of the bed, "Yup. I know, scandalous. But, let's be honest, not nearly as scandalous as seeing me without clothes." He added, "It's still pretty early. If you hurry, you might avoid getting caught doing your 'walk of shame'."

With a sultry sparkle in her eyes, Illyana said, "It's not a walk of shame if I have nothing to be ashamed about." The words dripped with confidence. With a deliberately slow and stretching motion, she pushed herself up, showcasing her toned figure. Each step she took towards him was deliberate, filled with alluring intent. Closing the distance between them, she leaned in, her lips brushing his cheek in a fleeting kiss. Tyson felt the flow of Illyana’s power and life force, but she didn't flinch away in pain. Instead, she leaned closer, her warm breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "Thanks for the date. I had fun."

Tyson stood to his feet and walked her to the door, holding it open for her. As Illyana began her exit, he asked, "So… How about a second date?"

Illyana's hips swayed with a pronounced rhythm. Without breaking her stride, she cast a look over her shoulder, her lips curling into a mysterious smile. "I'll think about it," she teased, her voice echoing slightly as she disappeared around the corridor's corner.

After tidying up his room, Tyson headed towards the cafeteria. Typically, he was one of the first ones there, sharing breakfast with Jean before the crowd of the other students filled the room. Jubilee would eventually stumble out of bed to join them; it was their daily ritual.

However, today was different. As he pushed through the doors slightly later than usual, his eyes darted towards their regular spot, and sure enough, Jean was already there. But she wasn't alone; Jubilee was beside her, and both focused on him as he entered. Tyson knew that look; somehow, they'd known something was up with his 'date' with Illyana. He tried to act casual as he made his way to the breakfast bar and loaded his tray with food.

But as he took his seat opposite the duo, Jubilee's expression said it all. Crossing her arms, she leaned in, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Sooo..." she dragged the word out, glancing at Jean, then back to him, "How was your date?"

Tyson, seeing the eager curiosity in Jubilee's eyes and feigned disinterest in Jean's, decided to lean into the moment. Holding out his hand jokingly towards Jean, he quipped, "Can I borrow your telepathy? I'm going to need it to talk my way out of this one."

Jubilee's eyes widened, feigning seriousness. "What? No way! Jean, don't you dare!"

Jean's eyebrow arched in a mock-offended way, scoffing, "You wish."

Tyson laughed at his own joke. He took a moment to scoop up a forkful of eggs and chew thoughtfully. Once he'd swallowed, he leaned in with a faux-dramatic tone. "We spent the night together."

Jubilee's eyes practically bulged out of her head, and her mouth hung open. She looked like she was about to burst into a flurry of questions.

Seeing her reaction, Tyson couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Okay, okay, calm down, Jubes," he said, still chuckling. "Before you jump to conclusions, let me tell you the whole story."

He proceeded to recount the adventure to Limbo, their skirmishes with the demons, and how Illyana had been knocked unconscious. "I brought her back to the institute, and she needed rest, so she crashed in my room. That's all," Tyson concluded, trying to maintain a straight face.

Jean and Jubilee exchanged glances. Jean mused, "Well, it's still technically a sleepover.”

Jubilee eyed Tyson with suspicion, "Where'd you sleep?" she inquired.

Tyson shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn’t. Just spent the night with my physics textbook. I don’t need much sleep. Missing a night doesn't affect me like it would you."

A relieved sigh escaped Jubilee's lips. "Good. I mean… From what I hear, you need to study physics.”

~~ Rogue Replacement ~~

The days at the institute began to form a pattern for Tyson. Every few nights would be spent with Illyana in Limbo. Every encounter with the demons, every skirmish, was a trial they defeated together. Their coordination became impeccable, almost as if they could predict each other's movements. These dangerous excursions playfully became regular 'dates'. Because time didn’t pass while they hunted in Limbo, when they returned Illyana would fall asleep in Tyson’s room and he’d spend the remainder of the evening studying.

During the daylight hours, Tyson’s friendship with Jean and Jubilee grew. The three of them would often find themselves lounging on the institute's vast lawn, grabbing a snack in the cafeteria, or playing games in the girl’s room. Subtly, his friend group grew as he was introduced to more of their peers.

Kitty Pride was in his physics class. She had the unique ability to phase through solid objects, and would often join them at meals. Bobby Drake, who had the gift of manipulating ice, was the jokester of the group, using his powers to play pranks. John Allerdyce, on the other hand, was a bit of a figurative hothead. He controlled fire, the elemental opposite of Bobby, and the two would often have playful showdowns.

June faded and the warm days of July began. The students were gearing up for a field trip to the Museum of Natural History in the city. The idea of a day out was a welcome change from their usual routine. Chatter filled the air, and the students were ready for a day of learning and discovery. Children and teens of all ages clambered onto the buses. Amidst the enthusiastic group, Tyson's tall figure looked out of place. His thoughts were elsewhere. The memory of his confrontation with Magneto still troubled him, and even though Magneto was now behind bars, the lingering fear wasn't easy to shake off.

"Hey, you okay?" Jean's voice pulled him back to the present.

He looked over to find her emerald eyes searching his. "Just thinking of the basketball game we missed," he replied, forcing a small smile.

Jean nudged him lightly, her tone reassuring. "We've got everyone here today, Tyson. And all the professors are on high alert. You're safe."

"I know," Tyson nodded, though Jean wasn’t entirely correct. "I’d feel better if Logan was here." Wolverine had left weeks ago. He wanted to follow up on some places Tyson had mentioned when giving a more detailed explanation of the memories he’d obtained from Sabertooth.

Jubilee, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, chimed in cheerfully, "Cheer up, no grumpiness to rain on our parade today!"

Tyson felt some of his tension ebb away. With friends like these by his side and the might of the X-Men backing him, he felt safe, “You’re right, Jubes. The day ahead might just turn out to be one of the best I’ve had in a while.”

Jubilee groaned, “What did I tell you about that?” Covering her face with her hand, “It’s the kiss of death!” She exclaimed.

~~ Rogue Replacement ~~

Tyson moved quickly through the exhibits, the massive dinosaur skeletons and artifacts doing little to pique his interest. Finding himself at the museum's food court, he settled at a table. The ambient noise of chatter surrounded him as he relaxed, taking in the sight of other visitors enjoying their meals.

He was lost in thought when he felt a pair of familiar arms draped themselves around his chest. Illyana's voice held a teasing lilt in her tone as she whispered into his ear, "Not much for history, are you?” she chuckled. “Just like physics,”

He tilted his head back to catch a glimpse of her smiling face and replied with mock indignation, "I'll have you know I caught up in physics right at the end of the semester."

John sat at Tyson’s table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on its surface. Eyebrows raised, he gestured between Tyson and Illyana, asking, "Are you two dating or what?"

The question hung in the air. The relationship between Tyson and Illyana was an enigma to everyone at the institute. Their interactions ranged from seemingly intimate moments to complete detachment, leaving most, including John, scratching their heads.

Tyson leaned back in his chair, casting a sidelong glance at Illyana. "Well," he drawled, "She keeps me up at night."

Illyana responded with an exaggerated eye roll. Playing along, she sighed theatrically, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm, "Unfortunately, he's more than I can handle."

Illyana leaned in, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss on Tyson's cheek, her lips lingering for a brief moment. The simple gesture was enough to elicit a few raised eyebrows.

Bobby, who’d accompanied John, piped up, "I don't know how you can touch him so casually. I shook his hand that one time, and felt like trash for an hour."

Tyson, never missing a beat, quipped with a smirk, "She's a masochist."

Illyana's eyes narrowed playfully, and she delivered a light slap on Tyson's shoulder, feigning annoyance. Grinning, Tyson continued, rubbing the spot she'd just hit dramatically, "And a sadist."

Bobby snickered at their banter, but John just threw his hands up in exasperation. Pointing at the duo, he exclaimed, "See! This is what I mean. No one knows if this is a thing!"

Illyana’s accent was heavier as she replied, “And no one needs to know.” She grabbed at Tyson’s forearm, near the end of his sleeve. “There’s a Russian exhibit, come see it with me.”

He shrugged at the other guys and followed Illyana out of the food court and deeper into the museum.

John, who had a penchant for flipping his lighter over and over became engrossed in a conversation with Bobby. A teen from a nearby table aggressively bumped into John, causing his lighter to clatter onto the ground. The boy looked down, a smirk twisting his lips, and said, "Watch it, mutie." With a sense of entitlement, he stooped, picked up John's lighter, and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag.

As the teen swaggered away, John's eyes glinted with mischief. Focusing on the burning tip of the cigarette, John manipulated the fire, amplifying its intensity. The flame shot upwards, jumping from the cigarette to the hem of the teen's shirt. Within seconds, an orange blaze danced on the fabric, spreading rapidly.

But before panic could fully register on the teen's face, a gust of cold blasted from Bobby's direction. The icy stream hit the fire, causing it to hiss and sputter out. In its place, a layer of frost covered the teen's shirt, making it stiff and crystalline.

The teen's expression was one of sheer horror; his mouth agape and eyes widened. But just as the realization of what happened started to sink in, his features froze, as if captured in a photograph. All around diners, children, parents, and even a balloon vendor who was midway into handing over a helium-filled gift, were similarly immobilized, frozen in the midst of their actions. Even a baby's cry was silenced mid-wail.

Sure enough, amidst the sea of paused faces, came Professor X; his wheelchair moving slowly. His face held a stern expression, but his eyes, deep and piercing, relayed a sense of calm control. It was clear that this momentary suspension of time was his doing. Charles Xavier's telepathic abilities were unmatched, and he was using them now to defuse a potential disaster.

Professor X spoke earnestly to John and Bobby. "Gentlemen, every one of us, mutant or not, has the power of choice. To act, to respond, to provoke. Our unique abilities are neither toys nor weapons to be displayed in moments of anger or pride. They're a part of our very being. And while they can be a blessing, in moments of rashness, they can also be our downfall. Let us remember that our true strength lies not in what we can do, but in choosing when and how we use our gifts. We must rise above provocations and act not out of vengeance or pride, but out of wisdom and understanding."

The room settled into an uneasy silence. Everyone's attention was drawn away when the television, playing in the corner, suddenly cut to a breaking news segment.

A news anchor, clearly alarmed, spoke into the camera, "We interrupt your regular programming for this breaking news out of the White House." The screen showed chaotic scenes, security personnel rushing about. "We have reports," the anchor continued, "of a mutant attacking the White House. While details are still emerging, initial reports suggest that this individual has managed to bypass multiple layers of security, using abilities never witnessed before." There wasn’t any footage of the fighting, just an aerial picture of the White House. "This is unprecedented," the anchor's voice trembled. "Never before has the heart of our government been attacked so brazenly."

Back in the room, eyes widened, and expressions ranged from shock to apprehension. Mutants were already treated poorly, and this would only incense things. Professor X broke the stunned silence, "Perhaps it is time we returned to the institute."

~~ Rogue Replacement ~~

Mystique, perfectly disguised as Senator Robert Kelly, stepped into the Oval Office. The room was heavy with tension. There had been an attack on the President, one that was nearly successful and quickly attributed to a mutant. The repercussions of this event were yet to unfold, but the landscape of mutant-human relations was sure to be altered.

"Senator Kelly," the President acknowledged, his voice strained but attempting to be cordial. His eyes darted to the figure standing next to him. "Meet William Stryker."

Stryker, with his stern face and piercing blue eyes, extended a hand. There was a hidden gleam in his eye, one that could easily be taken for malevolence. "Senator. I was a fan of your support of the Mutant Registration Act. Your recent shift of position from supporting the bill is confounding." he said, his formal tone barely restraining his displeasure.

Mystique, using her experience, smoothly replied, "Mr. Stryker. Times change and often stances need to change with them." She shook his hand firmly, ensuring not to reveal any hint of her true identity.

The President cleared his throat. "Given the recent... events, I thought it prudent for the two of you to discuss the mutant situation. We can't have another attack like this."

Mystique nodded, portraying the Senator's usual confident demeanor. "Of course, Mr. President. The safety of our nation is of utmost importance."

Stryker added, "I have some ideas on how to handle the mutant issue." The implication in his voice was clear; he believed in dealing with mutants with an iron hand.

Stryker confidently placed a folder in front of the President. The seal of confidentiality embossed on its cover caught the curiosity of the President. Inside was a satellite image, sharp and clear. It showed a grand mansion amidst trees and open grounds. The Xavier Institute.

Stryker leaned in, pointing to the picture. "Mr. President, this is more than just a mansion in upstate New York. This is a mutant training facility."

Mystique, maintaining her facade as Senator Kelly, swiftly interjected, her voice calm yet assertive, "It's a school, Mr. Stryker."

Ignoring her, Stryker turned the page, revealing another satellite image. This one showcased a sleek, black jet, its design distinctly reminiscent of a classified military aircraft. "And tell me, Senator, how many schools do you know that house an aircraft of this caliber? And if I may add, it emerges from their basketball courts."

The President's eyes widened in disbelief, and then his brows furrowed. He leaned back in his chair, massaging his temple as the weight of the situation pressed upon him. Finally, he met Stryker's gaze, "What is it you need, Stryker?"

Stryker answered without hesitation, "Permission to go in, Mr. President. I'm certain the answers to your recent attack lie within that facility."

The lines on the President's forehead became more pronounced as he considered Stryker's words. "Fine," he conceded, "but no live fire. You detain and question. I won't stand for casualties, Stryker. I won't have the nation waking up to the sight of mutant children's bodies on their morning news."

Stryker's lips curved into a subtle, sinister smile. His eyes glinted with a malicious intent that he hid well. "Of course, Mr. President," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with feigned obedience.