The last guardian: Rise of Ethan Wilson

"Some memories are the foundations of who we are. And when those crumble… everything falls."

The study at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was filled with the soft, uneven crackle of a dying fire. Yet the warmth it should have spread did not reach the soul of the man sitting there.

Professor Charles Xavier's hand trembled as it hovered above a delicate porcelain cup of tea. The steam rose in lazy spirals, but he no longer noticed the comforting aroma.

His telepathy—once an unwavering beacon in the chaos of his mind—had betrayed him that morning.

Where once there had been a clear chorus of familiar voices—the steady calm of Cyclops, the melodic threads of Jean Grey's psychic song—now there was only silence.

A silence too deep. Too complete.

Even his own thoughts whispered faintly, distant as echoes in an empty cathedral.

A pang of cold dread settled in his chest. The foundations of his identity were crumbling.

Who am I… without my mind?

A scream cut through the stillness—high, fractured, torn between agony and fury.

Jean Grey writhed in psychic flames, but the fire was not her own. It was splintered and twisted, sewn together by unseen hands — cruel and precise.

Above the mansion, a shadow fell.

Calyx descended like a dark goddess cloaked in night, her fingers weaving invisible threads that pulled at psychic power like a weaver tightening her loom.

"You burn so brightly, Jean," she whispered, voice silky with malice. "It will be beautiful to watch your light flicker out."

Jean collapsed, her mind fracturing into a thousand shards of despair.

Below, Cerebro shattered in a deafening explosion, sparks flying like embers of dying hope.

Xavier gasped, clutching his head as the voice slithered through every corner of the mansion.

"Let the Unweaving begin."

A jagged portal cracked the fabric of reality itself, spilling Ethan and Natalie onto the school's grounds.

Time around them splintered, fractured fragments of moments suspended in eerie stillness.

"Too late," Natalie whispered, eyes scanning the broken world with a cold fury.

Ethan's jaw clenched tight. "Not yet."

A familiar growl rumbled beside them. Wolverine landed hard, claws unsheathed and eyes burning with defiant rage.

"She made the Professor forget how to walk," Wolverine snarled, voice low and deadly.

Cyclops staggered into view, his visor cracked and power fading like a dying star.

"Help us, Guardian," Cyclops gasped. "Or we all fade."

Rick's warning echoed in Ethan's mind like a lifeline.

She's unweaving minds. This won't be a battle of fists, but of fractured memories—corridors where time folds and splinters. Stay anchored… or lose yourself.

Calyx raised her hands and the world fractured.

The school dissolved into a labyrinth of floating doors—each a fragment of a memory, a broken shard of a soul.

Some doors stood tall and clear, shining with vivid colors and life.

Others were cracked, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

Many were shattered completely—dust drifting in the void.

The door labeled "Professor Charles Xavier" was little more than drifting ash in a black endless sea.

Calyx moved through the corridors like a spider weaving a deadly web.

Her voice was a poison whisper as she spoke into each door.

"Remember the day you failed."

"Remember when you broke your promise."

"Let those be all you are."

Cyclops faltered, dragged back into the searing pain of his fractured past—his father's abandonment a wound raw and bleeding.

Wolverine roared, slashing through shards of memories where he had failed those he loved, the guilt clawing at his soul.

Natalie gripped Ethan's hand with desperate strength, fighting the pull of forgotten memories that threatened to swallow them whole.

But Ethan's gaze locked on the swirling dust of Professor X's door.

Without hesitation, he reached out—and stepped inside.

The study inside the mindscape was silent and hollow.

The wheelchair sat empty, the air thick with loss.

Charles sat nearby—old and young at once—blinking through a haze of forgotten time.

"I was something once," he whispered, voice fragile. "A teacher? A dreamer?"

Ethan knelt beside him, voice steady but heavy with pain.

"You're more than that. You're the man who gave outcasts a home."

Xavier's eyes searched Ethan's face, confused and lost.

"Do I know you?"

Tears stung Ethan's eyes, choking his voice.

"You don't have to. Just remember who you are."

Laughter echoed—cold and cruel—a reminder of what they were fighting against.

"Too late," the voice sneered. "He chose to forget long ago."

Xavier's hand closed over Ethan's with surprising strength.

"If I can't remember… then give me one last purpose."

"No," Ethan shook his head, desperation rising. "I can fix this—I will."

But Xavier's mind began collapsing inward, folding like a dying star.

With a final, shattering psychic burst, he pushed one burning thought into Ethan's core—

Protect them. Even from themselves.

The world snapped, expelling Ethan and Natalie from the mindscape just as the door sealed shut.

Tears streaked down Ethan's face, but he stood firm.

Natalie squeezed his hand, unshakable.

"She took him," Natalie whispered, voice breaking.

Wolverine growled low, claws flexing like steel springs.

"She's gonna pay."

Ethan's voice thundered across the shattered space.

"CALYX!"

She turned, threads of broken memories hanging around her like a cloak.

"I remember everything now."

Golden wings erupted, light blazing in his palms, blades forged of pure celestial energy.

With a roar, Ethan surged forward, cutting through the psychic loom.

Calyx screamed, unraveling as reality stitched itself back together.

She vanished—but was not destroyed.

[Calyx Retreats – X-Men Memory Recovery: 62%]

[XP Gained: 15,000]

[New Allies Gained: Wolverine, Cyclops]

Back at the mansion, Xavier lay in a deep, unbroken sleep—his mind a closed book forever unread.

Jean held his hand, silent tears tracing paths down her cheeks.

Wolverine poured a drink, the somber weight settling in his bones.

Ethan stood beneath the vast night sky, eyes fixed on the infinite stars above.

Natalie came to his side, voice soft and sure.

"You okay?"

"No," he admitted, voice raw. "But I will be."

She leaned in, shoulder resting against him.

"He gave his mind to protect his dream."

Ethan nodded slowly.

"Then we live it for him."