[Far away from the location...]

  Aron was about to teleport away but felt someone's presence behind him... Well, there were three people.

  "Ah! Blink, Jean and Professor. Tell me something, Prof. You knew about Trask and his Sentinel program, yet you did nothing and you've been busy colleg our data. Why?" Aron asked without turning around.

  "Colleg data? What is he talking about, Prof?" Jean asked, fused.

  "Oh, he didn't tell you, did he?" Aron smirked. "Figures. Collect data oant's strengths and weaknesses and when someone doesn't follow your so-called right way, you will be able to stop them using that data. Well, not alone, but what if you trahat data to Fury? The Shield will take care of everything. Isn't that right, Professor?"

  "I 't deny what you say. Indeed, I was gathering that data," Professor X said holy. "I won't make the same mistake I did with Erid Raven. I won't watch others make the same mistake. And right now, you are walking on that very path that I feared. Maniputing others, killing... This wasn't how it was supposed to be, Aron."

  "Were they i?" Aron suddenly asked as he walked up to the Professor and looked him in the eye. "Norman Osborn killed over 300 people for his sick experiments, among them there were 130 kids, human and mutant included. Ross fuhat same experiment for years and even provided homeless and captured immigrants to Norman. He even killed his own men by iing them with faulty serum, and he nning on killing Hulk. is Trask... that bastard almost created ons to wipe out all mutants from Earth. If not for me doing what I did, where would we be, Professor? In the few years, the hunt of our kind would have begun."

  "130 kids?!" Jean couldn't believe her ears.

  Aron tinued, "Now, tell me... Were they i? You could have found out their location anytime you want. You could have warned Fury or someone else who could have stopped this madness. You could have e forward and exposed all this. You could have saved so many lives, yet you did nothing but sit on your butt making excuses. You, Shield, and the other heroes are all the same. You don't care about people, you only care about your reputation and your public image. Oh, and your so-called right way."

  The professor's face hardened. "..." He didn't deny anything Aron said; instead, he silently looked at him.

  "You manipute everyone around you but lucky me," Aron tapped the side of his head. "You 't get inside my head."

  "..." Professor didn't say anything.

  "Did you ever tell Jean," Aron said, his voice low and sharp, "about the memories you stole from her? The lies you wove to repce the truth?"

  "Sealed my memories?" Jean turo her Prof.

  "Everything I did was to protect everyone," Professor X said slowly. "I admit, some of my as were wrong, but I did what I thought was best for everyone. Jean's situation was different."

  "Protect us?! You locked her memories and God knows how many times you maniputed others. Heck, they won't even remember what's real or what's fake. You don't want to admit it but the truth is you want to mold everyone acc to your vision, don't you? You simply tweak their memories and then watch from the sidelines. Well, that's going to ge..." Aron touched the side of his forehead and used his power to undo the seal in Jean's mind. "There you go, Jean. Now you know."

  "Jean!" Professor X tried to stop her, but she put a shield around herself.

  Aron covered the Professor's body with his Phoenix Force, preventing him from using his telepathy.

  A flood of memories rushed into Jean's sciousness, hitting her like a tidal wave. She stumbled back, clutg her head as fragmented images aions overwhelmed her. A massive wave of telekinesis erupted from her body, but Aron tai with ease, isoting her in a barrier. He theered Jean's mind.

  She was standing before a memory bubble. It was her childhood. Aron walked over and grabbed her hand.

  "I'll always be with you. So, don't worry. You will never be aloarting this point will be hard, but promise me, you will trol your emotions. Prove the Professor that he was wrong. you do that for me?" He said softly, giving her hand a light squeeze.

  "I promise..." She whispered in a soft voice.

  [Jean's Childhood]

  She was a young girl, no older than six, pying in her backyard with her best friend, Ahe two of them chased each other around the garden, carefree and full of life. But then it happehe memory she had fottehe pain of it was all too familiar.

  Annie chased a cat and tripped. She fell onto the street, directly ih of an oning car. Jean screamed, a sound so pierg it felt like the world itself had cracked. She ran toward her friend, arms outstretched, desperate to save her. But before she could reahe car struck. Blood pooled on the pavement, and Annie's lifeless eyes stared back at Jean.

  "NOOO!" Jean's anguish was overwhelming, and that's when her powers maed for the first time. Her mied like a volo, a telekiic wave bursting forth from her, shattering windows, ripping up the pavement, and hurling debris into the air. She could feel Annie's mind—her fading thoughts, her terror, and her pain.

  She wao live.

  And then, silence.

  Jea everything... It was too much for a child of her age.

  The memory hit her harder. She was ba her childhood home, her parents' faces twisted in fear and disgust. They had seen what she could do, and instead of f her, they recoiled. Her mother, trembling, poi her and screamed, "You're a monster! Yht the devil into this house!"

  Her father didn't say a word. He grabbed her by the arm, dragging her down to the basement. The cold, damp air chilled her to the bone. He threw her inside and locked the door. "You stay in there until you learn how to trol yourself," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

  Days turned into weeks. She was left in the dark, alone and terrified, the only light ing from a small, barred window high above. Her parents would slide food and water through a slot, but they refused to speak to her. Every time she tried to expin what had happehey ignored her, calling her a liar, a freak, a devil child.

  Jean screamed and cried, but no one came to fort her. The isotion only fed her growing power. Objects in the room began to float and shatter. Her telepathic abilities began to ma, and she could hear her parents' thoughts through the floor above.

  "She's dangerous."

  "We should send her away."

  "What if she hurts us?"

  The se shifted. Jean was older now, sitting in the dark er of the basement, her knees pulled to her chest. She was afraid of using her power. She bmed herself for her friend's death and thought that a devil might be hiding inside her, so it was better to live in that dark er, rather than hurt someohen she heard a voiot her parents, but something calm and soothing, resonating directly in her mind.

  "Jean. My name is Charles Xavier. I'm here to help you."

  The door opened, and there he stood, a bea of hope in her bleak existence. He extended a hand to her, his eyes filled with uanding and passion. She hesitated but eventually took it. For the first time in years, someone wasn't afraid of her.

  But then, the truth of Xavier's as became clear. He didn't just help her. He had seen the full extent of her trauma, her pain, and her power—and he had decided it was too much for her to bear. He sealed her memories, locked away her pain, and created a new narrative for her to live by.

  "You don't o remember this," his voice echoed in her mind as the se pyed out. "This is for your own good."

  [Outside the memory bubble]

  "He made me fet her face... He said my parents died in an act," Jean whispered.

  "You were a kid. And the trauma was too much. PTSD for a mutant of Omega Level is far more dangerous than anything out there. You could have hurt yourself or someone else. What he did was for your own safety, well, that's what it was back then. But slowly he realized that you aren't just a telekinesis mutant, you also have telepathy power on par with his, but there he sehere was something else..." Aron said, shifting the memories to the one.

  ...

  Jean and Aron stood before another memory bubble, this one hazy and trembling as if it resisted being unlocked. He gave her a reassuring nod before pg his hand on the bubble, easing it open. The memory unfurled before them, transp them to a sterile room filled with ical equipment and two familiar figures: Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, Mago.

  Jean appeared much younger in this memory, perhaps only a few years after Charles had taken her under his wing. She sat in a chair, her small frame dwarfed by the imposing maery surrounding her. Electrodes were attached to her temples, and her expression was one of apprehension mixed with exhaustion. Charles stood by her side, his face stern but calm. Erik paced in the background, his movements restless.

  "She's too young for this," Erik said sharply, his voice heavy with disapproval. "You're pushioo hard, Charles."

  "I'm not pushing her," Charles replied, his tone clipped. "I'm guidihere's a difference."

  Erik scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest. "Guidahis looks more like you're disseg her mind. She's a child, not a b experiment."

  Charles turo face him, his calm facade crag slightly. "You've felt it too, Erik. The power inside her. It's not just her telekinesis or her telepathy—there's something else, something fn. If we don't uand it, how we protect her? Or anyone else?"

  "And what exactly do you think you'll find?" Erik shot back. "If you dig too deep, you'll break her. She's already fragile enough as it is."

  Charles hesitated, gng at Jean, who was staring at the floor, clearly unfortable with their argument. He k beside her, pg a hand on her shoulder. "Jean, you've been feeling it too, haven't you? That... presenside you? Like a voice you 't quite hear, but it's always there."

  Jean's eyes flicked up to meet his. She nodded hesitantly. "Sometimes it feels like it's watg me. Waiting. It scares me."

  Erik's expression softened, and he moved closer. "That's why we o help her uand it, Charles. Not suppress it. She has the right to know what's inside her."

  Charles sighed, his frustration evident. "And what if uanding it unleashes something we 't trol? Jean's powers are already beyond anything I've seen. If this... forside her is unleashed, it could destroy her. Or worse, everything around her."

  "So your solution is to lock it away?" Erik raised his voice. "You've seen what happens when you suppress someone's nature. It festers, it grows, aually, it explodes. Do you really think you keep it tained forever? That other voi her head might be the result of you suppressing her memories for years."

  Charles's gaze hardened. "I will do what I must to protect her. And everyone else."

  The room fell into a tense silehe weight of their disagreement hanging heavily in the air. Jean looked betweewo men, her fear evident. "Professor? What's wrong with me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  Charles's expression softened again, and he pced both hands on her shoulders. "There is nothing wrong with you, Jean. You are extraordinary. But extraordinary things require extraordinary care. I promise, everything I do is to keep you safe."

  Erik's jaw ched, but he didn't argue further. Instead, he k beside Jean, his voice gentle. "Jean, you're strohan you think. Don't let anyone vince you otherwise. Remember that. And if you ever feel lost, find me."

  The memory shifted slightly, jumping forward. Jean was unscious now, her small body limp in the chair. Charles stood behind her, his fingers pressed to his temples, his face strained with tration. Erik stood off to the side, watg with a mixture of anger and resignation.

  "What are you doing?" Erik demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

  "I'm repg her past memories with new ones," Charles said, his voice tight with effort. "The death of her friend, the reje by her parents, everything that could feed the darkness inside her. If she doesn't remember, she won't dwell on it. She have a fresh start."

  "You're pying God," Erik said, his tone icy. "You're taking away her choice, her freedom. How is this any different from what we fight against?"

  Charles didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost pleading. "Erik, I don't know what else to do. I se—the forside her, growing stronger every day. If I don't do something, I don't know if I tain it. I feel her power, her potential... But with that power es a darkness, something I barely prehend. It terrifies me, Erik. It terrifies me more than anything I've ever faced before. If that darkness is unleashed, the world as we know it will be destroyed. I see it. I see all of it. We need Jean—but not like this. If I just find a way to—to—to trol her—"

  He broke off, his words faltering.

  ...

  [Outside the bubble]

  "The Phoenix Force," Jean whispered in a hoarse voice.

  "That's right, Jean." Aron nodded. "You were a host of the Phoenix Force."

  "The voices...?" She asked.

  "Both Phoenix and your sed personality. You have dual personalities in your head. The first one is yht now. The sed one is your deepest desires, joy, and rage. I think it's the result of years of suppressed memories or the Professor couldn't erase everything, only sealed it. I don't know much about it, but it seems the Phoenix Force is using your other personality to talk to you. Remember when you said that Phoenix wanted you to have a baby with me?" Aron asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

  "Yeah... I remember," She whispered.

  "That wasn't Phoenix but you. You couldn't say it yourself, so your other personality talked to you and told you what you wao do. I don't know if Phoenix pyed a part or not. But what I know is that right now, you are you. You don't o suppress your desire, rage, or happiness anymore," He hugged her tightly. "You are free now."

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