"Hello, Miss Artoria."
"Hello, Miss Grey."
This was Artoria's first contact with the X-Men, especially the perfect host of the Phoenix Force, which is said to be the strongest power in the Universe—Phoenix Jean Grey. This was a woman with a lot of charm. Artoria kindly shook hands with her, and Jean responded warmly to Artoria's goodwill. Soon, under Jean's lead, Artoria walked into this school built by Professor X.
"Hey! Look, isn't that the Flash Knight, Artoria Stark? Should we go get an autograph?"
"Sure!"
Many Little guys had learned about Artoria's existence through the TV and had become her fans. Now, two little fans happily came before Artoria to ask for an autograph. Even Jean's words didn't work, but Artoria didn't mind. Weren't they just two kids who looked a bit strange? She had even looked at the ugly Chitauri; the Little guys before her were just little cuties. Smiling as she signed for the two kids and rubbed their little heads, Artoria expressed her goodwill without any hint of falsehood under Jean's subtle gaze.
"I think the Professor was right, Miss Artoria. You don't loathe us like ordinary people do. It really surprises me."
Jean, still leading the way, smiled as she spoke. The current plight of the Mutants made it impossible for them to trust anyone. She hadn't understood why the Professor had invited Artoria here, but now she was beginning to see. In Artoria's eyes she detected no trace of disgust; even though two children looked bizarre because of their powers, Artoria treated them exactly like ordinary people. It showed she bore the Mutants no ill will.
"Why would I feel disgust? None of this is something you chose. The ability simply appeared in you because you inherited it. It isn't as though you could decide what you got. None of you asked for this—you're just the ones who have to endure it."
Artoria answered Jean with a smile. Indeed, was any Mutant's power ever truly welcomed? Watching your body mutate, hurting your family because you can't control what you can do—their pain ran deeper than most could imagine.
Clap—! Clap—! Clap—!
"Well said, Miss Artoria. Welcome to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters."
While they talked they had reached the Villa inside the grounds. Jean pushed open the door, and there sat a Big Bald Head in a sleek levitating wheelchair. He applauded Artoria's words and offered his welcome.
"Professor Charles Francis Xavier. I've read your biological hypotheses—found them quite impressive."
It was no empty compliment. Charles was a Harvard graduate, an award-winning authority in genetics, biophysics and psychology. While the public mood toward Mutants was grim, academia didn't dismiss his ideas because of his identity. Many scholars, Artoria included, considered his theories highly plausible.
"Thank you for the praise, Miss Artoria."
He gestured for her to sit; Jean, ever thoughtful, went to brew coffee. The Professor merely smiled modestly—this wasn't even close to the full extent of his abilities.
"So, Professor Charles, why did you invite me?"
Frankly, Artoria disliked sitting opposite a telepath of such power—who knew when she might be hypnotized or have her memories rifled through? The Professor's integrity meant he wouldn't pry without cause, but everyone has secrets, and in his presence it felt as though hers might slip out at any moment.
So she cut to the chase; she had no wish to linger.
"In a hurry, Miss Artoria? Don't worry—I never poke around in people's thoughts without permission."
That's exactly what worries me, Artoria thought, keeping her face blank as she regarded the smiling Professor. She had no idea what game the X Professor was playing. If she could, she'd leave right now—but he was a major figure; surely he wouldn't toy with her. Probably.
"All right. But I have work to do. If you have nothing to say, I'll head back to grade papers."
Bald heads really aren't to be trifled with, she mused, yet her stance was clear: speak or I walk, and once I'm gone I won't come back. Against a sly old fox who read minds for a living, her tone was firm.
"Impatient little thing. Very well. Do you believe in parallel worlds, Miss Artoria?"
He only chuckled at her childish brusqueness and threw the question back at her: did she accept the existence of parallel realities?
"This…"
The question silenced her. Believe? Of course—otherwise how had she crossed into this world? If she denied parallel worlds, why worry whether this Universe followed the comics or the films?
"I believe parallel worlds are real."
Her answer made the Professor nod gravely; the rest of their talk hinged on that premise. If she'd denied it, there'd be nothing more to discuss.
"This message came from Logan. You were too young then, so I didn't let you hear it, but you've grown up and have the right to know. Miss Artoria, please remember what I'm about to tell you—because once I've finished I'll delete the memory. I was never meant to keep it; I've merely held it for over a decade."
His solemn tone tightened Artoria's stomach. What on Earth was this information? What had Logan brought back from the future? Even the Professor could only store and relay it, then wipe it from his own mind—proof of its staggering importance.
Part of her regretted coming; ignorance seemed safer than facing whatever terrifying mystery lay ahead. But since she was here, she wouldn't run.
Professor X glanced around and used telepathy to tell Jean to keep outsiders away. Then he began recounting Logan's message.
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