In a room that was small and open, everything felt almost empty—no equipment, nothing that looked remotely like a training area.
Except for a few supplies stacked quietly in one corner.
Charles and Jean stood opposite Luke, studying him with calm, focused expressions.
Luke shifted his weight, then rubbed his chin, clearly baffled.
"…Okay," he said at last. "Can I get a little more explanation here?"
He wasn't annoyed—just genuinely confused.
He'd expected drills. Techniques. Some kind of structured guidance. After all, he was standing in front of two of the most respected psychics in the X-Men universe.
Instead, there was… this.
"I thought this would be actual training," Luke continued, glancing around the bare room. "You know—something practical."
He paused, then added bluntly, "Right now, I don't understand a damn thing."
Jean's lips twitched slightly, but she didn't interrupt.
Charles remained composed, his hands resting lightly on the arms of his chair, as if he had expected this reaction from the very beginning.
"I'll be honest with you," he said calmly. "It's new for me as well—to train a mind reader who is more powerful than I am."
There was no pride or false modesty in his tone. Just caution.
"For once, I'm the one stepping into unfamiliar ground," Charles continued. "Your mind operates on a scale far beyond what I'm used to guiding. That means we have to be careful. Extremely careful. If a mind like yours is pushed the wrong way… the consequences wouldn't stop with you."
"What you're experiencing right now is normal. It's easy to control a small bubble of water—you can see it, shape it, contain it. But an ocean doesn't respond to force the same way."
He looked directly at Luke.
"Your mind is like that ocean," he said quietly. "Vast, deep, and constantly moving.. Training you isn't about forcing control—it's about learning restraint, awareness, and balance."
"So first before anything you should learn restraint" said Charles
"Restraint?" Luke asked. "How am I supposed to know how much power to use?"
He'd only gained this trait a week ago. Expecting him to instinctively judge the limits of a human mind—something so fragile—felt unreasonable. He wasn't being careless. He simply hadn't had the time to learn where the line was.
"That," Charles said evenly, "is for you to discover. But I strongly advise using the least amount possible."
Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Charles was already turning away.
"Until then," he added, "Jean will guide you."
The hum of the hover chair filled the room as it moved toward the exit. Charles didn't look back—he didn't need to. A moment later, the door slid shut, leaving only silence behind.
Luke let out a long breath and dropped to the floor, sitting back with a dull thud.
"Lowest possible," he muttered. "That's easy to say when you're not the one carrying it."
Jean watched him for a moment before sitting down across from him, folding her legs casually. Up close, the difference was obvious—this wasn't the Luke who stood against armies or spoke calmly in the face of missiles.
This one looked… more frustrated. Like a child staring at something that should work but didn't.
It was oddly amusing to watch.
"It's not as impossible as it sounds," Jean said gently. "It wasn't easy for me either. At first, my thoughts were everywhere. Voices, emotions—none of it had filters."
Luke winced slightly. "Must've been hell," he said. "Hearing things you didn't want to hear. Stuff you never asked for."
Jean nodded. "It was. I thought I was losing my mind." She exhaled softly, the memory still close. "Then the Professor found me. He helped me understand that it wasn't about shutting everything out—it was about choosing what to let in."
Luke glanced at her. "So… any suggestions, senior?"
"Senior?" Jean echoed, blinking. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks.
Luke shrugged, unapologetic. "In telepathy? Yeah. You are. I'm the novice who doesn't even know where the door is, and you're already explaining the layout."
That earned a small laugh from her.
"Alright," she said, regaining her composure. "First lesson, then—stop trying to control everything."
Luke frowned. "That sounds counterintuitive."
"It is," Jean admitted. "But forcing control only makes the noise louder. You don't dominate the ocean—you learn how to float on it."
Luke leaned back, considering that. "…Huh. That actually makes sense."
Jean smiled, encouraged. "Good. Then we'll start there."
"Now close your eyes and open your mind," Jean said calmly. "You'll hear a lot—far more than you expect. Don't let it influence you. Don't linger on it. Those thoughts aren't yours. You're just passing by them."
She watched him carefully. "You're not listening with your ears. You're listening with your mind. So be careful—very careful—not to let them pull you in."
Luke nodded once, then closed his eyes.
He opened his telepathy.
The world exploded.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of voices slammed into his consciousness at once. Fragmented thoughts, half-formed emotions, memories with no context. Fear. Hunger. Anger. Boredom. Love. Regret. All of it overlapping, colliding, screaming to be noticed.
—late again—
—don't forget the key—
—why won't it stop—
—I miss her—
—His struggling face is cute—
It wasn't pain exactly—more like standing beneath a waterfall made of thoughts, each one crashing down without mercy.
But he ignored them. They weren't his emotions or his thoughts—he was only listening. There was no reason to let himself be influenced.
Five minutes later, Luke opened his eyes.
"That was exhausting," Luke said.
He had to admit it—he was impressed with the Professor's control. Using Cerebro to reach out across the entire world, touching so many minds at once, must have required an incredible level of focus and restraint.
Jean smiled faintly. "It gets easier. Slowly. But yeah—you made real progress for a first attempt."
Luke glanced at her. "Yeah. About that."
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing with a trace of amusement. "There was one voice that felt… familiar. Kept thinking my 'struggling face' was cute."
Jean froze.
"…Do you know whose thoughts those were?" Luke asked, completely serious.
Jean turned her face away, suddenly very interested in the far wall.
"…You're imagining things," she said a little too quickly.
Luke's lips twitched.
*****
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