Liam waved his hand dismissively, his tone relaxed but firm. "It doesn't matter. Real ability only shows up in real combat, and as for injuries, don't worry about it. As long as they don't die on the spot, I can save them."
Storm hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing the risks, but eventually let out a quiet breath. She understood his confidence wasn't empty bravado—it was based on results she had already witnessed firsthand. "Alright then," she said, nodding in agreement despite her concerns.
Cyclops stepped forward slightly, adjusting his visor as he looked at Liam. "And the second thing?"
Liam leaned back a little, his expression turning casual again. "Well… you all know about Tony Stark's armor, right?"
Cyclops gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "I don't think there's anyone in New York who doesn't know Iron Man's armor." There was even a hint of admiration in his voice—he wasn't exactly hiding the fact that he was a fan.
"I ordered eight suits from Tony," Liam said plainly.
That single sentence landed like a small bomb in the room. Several of them exchanged glances, clearly surprised by what they'd just heard.
Logan narrowed his eyes, his expression full of disbelief. "That armor's his baby. Why the hell would he sell it to you?"
"It's not a sale," Liam replied with a shrug. "Just think of it as… a special arrangement. The point is, all of you can submit your own requirements. Once I confirm everything, I'll pass it to Tony, and he'll start building."
Logan snorted, extending his claws briefly as if to make a point. "I'm not interested in that kind of tin can."
To him, something like that could be torn apart without much effort, and the idea of relying on armor didn't sit well with his instincts at all.
Liam raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly surprised. "Uncle Logan, if you skip this now, don't regret it later."
Logan waved him off without a second thought, completely unconcerned. His stance made it clear that he had no intention of changing his mind.
"Well," Liam said, turning his gaze toward Cyclops and Storm, "anyone else not interested?"
Neither of them spoke up. Whether the armor would be useful or not was still debatable, but passing up something like that for free didn't make much sense either.
"Good. Then get me your requirements as soon as possible. That's all I've got." Liam gave a short nod, scanning the room one last time before dismissing the meeting.
As the group began to disperse, Polaris quietly followed behind him without saying a word. Her presence lingered just close enough to feel deliberate, and after a few steps, Liam finally let out a small cough.
"Uh… Lorna? You got something you want to say?"
For some reason, facing her like this gave him a faint sense of unease. It wasn't fear exactly—but definitely guilt.
Polaris stopped, her gaze locking onto him with sharp intensity. "Weiss, you and Clarice didn't come back all night."
"That's… well, the banquet ran late, and I had a bit too much to drink—"
"You did it," she cut him off flatly.
Liam froze for a split second, completely caught off guard by how direct she was. There was no room to dodge or deflect, and for once, he found himself at a loss for words.
Polaris's expression tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. The more she thought about it, the more it stung—especially knowing how things had played out.
"Weiss… are you even a man?" she snapped, her voice trembling with emotion.
Liam immediately frowned. "Hey, don't just say things like that. I'm very capable." His tone was defensive, but the edge in his voice made it clear he wasn't joking.
"Then prove it."
Before he could react, Polaris grabbed his collar, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something far more complicated. The tension between them snapped in an instant, and whatever restraint Liam had been holding onto finally gave way.
He didn't want to complicate things further, but in that moment, logic took a backseat.
Without another word, he swept her up into his arms. Space twisted around them, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished from the spot.
The next day.
"Lorna," Liam said, lifting her chin slightly, his voice low and amused. "Be honest—was I fierce?"
"Shut up…"
Her response came out half-asleep and completely exhausted. She weakly pushed his hand away before drifting back into unconsciousness, clearly unwilling to engage any further.
Liam stepped outside shortly after, stretching lazily under the bright sunlight. His mood was excellent—almost too good, considering everything that had just happened.
"Weiss!"
Clarice's voice came from nearby, filled with a mix of grievance and accusation. She hurried over, her eyes wide as she looked at him, clearly upset.
The moment Liam saw her expression, a faint headache started forming. Just the day before, he had convinced himself that having Clarice alone was enough. Now, less than twenty-four hours later, he had completely contradicted himself.
He let out a quiet breath, muttering internally. Looks like my self-control isn't as solid as I thought.
Still, his movements didn't slow for even a second. He stepped forward and pulled Clarice into his arms, his tone softening instantly.
"Clarice… you know it's not something you can handle alone," he said gently. "You've experienced it yourself—you understand what I mean."
Clarice's face flushed slightly as memories surfaced, that night flashing through her mind with vivid clarity. It was overwhelming, both in intensity and emotion.
"I…" she hesitated, her resistance wavering.
"Don't overthink it," Liam continued smoothly. "I'll always love you."
It was his first time using this kind of approach, but with the Ultimate Evolution Module backing him, every nuance of persuasion came naturally. Combined with subtle mental influence, the effect was immediate.
Clarice's expression softened, and whatever lingering frustration she had quickly melted away.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
Under Storm and Cyclops' organization, the school's superpower competition was fully prepared. The academy's massive training ground had been transformed into a makeshift arena, complete with clear boundaries and observation zones.
In the past few days, student registrations had been finalized. Compared to the original roster, the academy now housed nearly five hundred students, and close to a hundred had signed up for the competition.
The atmosphere was already buzzing with anticipation.
Liam stood beside Cyclops, glancing over the assembled crowd. "Looks like everything's ready. Go ahead and announce it."
Cyclops tilted his head slightly. "You don't want to say a few words first?"
Liam thought about it for a second, then nodded. "Alright, sure."
He stepped onto the elevated platform, looking down at the gathered students. The noise gradually died down as everyone's attention shifted toward him.
"Alright, settle down," Liam said, clearing his throat lightly.
The crowd quieted almost instantly.
"As the leader of the X-Men, I'll keep this short," he continued, his voice carrying clearly across the field. "First, take this competition seriously. Don't hold back just because you're afraid of getting hurt."
He paused briefly, letting the words sink in.
"Second, you've already heard about the rewards for the top ten. But I'm adding one more." His gaze swept across the crowd, a faint smile forming. "Iron Man's armor."
For a split second, there was silence—then the entire arena erupted.
"No way—is that real?!"
"Iron Man is my hero! We can actually get his armor?!"
"Top ten… I have to make top ten!"
"Screw top ten—I'm taking first place!"
"Keep dreaming, John. First place is mine."
"Yeah? We'll see about that."
The energy skyrocketed instantly. What had already been an exciting event turned into something explosive the moment the reward was revealed.
Liam raised his hand, pressing the air slightly, and the noise gradually settled.
"Of course," he added calmly, "making the top ten isn't the only way. If your performance stands out enough, you can still join the X-Men—and get the armor."
That final addition pushed the crowd into an even greater frenzy.
Students who had initially thought they had no chance now felt a surge of hope. Even without ranking, there was still an opportunity to prove themselves and earn both recognition and power.
....
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