Chapter 5

Sharon and Charles strolled through the mall, hand in hand, like any mother and son. Behind them, Lafitte followed closely, keeping an eye on everything.

Although they were surrounded by bodyguards, it felt more like an unnecessary precaution—at least for two of them.

The outing wasn't just for shopping; it was a chance for Charles to practice controlling the flood of thoughts and emotions entering his mind.

'This is getting overwhelming,' Charles thought, gritting his teeth.

'I need to get a handle on this. If I accidentally read someone's mind and they notice, I'll be in serious trouble.' His focus wavered as stray thoughts from nearby shoppers buzzed in his head like static.

Meanwhile, Lafitte observed him silently, 'How does this kid know Irene? And why did she ask me to stay with him until he grows up?'

Sharon's voice interrupted the thoughts swirling in Charles' mind. "After I pick up a few things, we'll get whatever you want. Is there anything in particular, sweetie?" she asked, smiling.

"A book," Charles replied after a moment's thought.

Sharon spent the next hour shopping—handbags, dresses, clothes for Charles and her husband, makeup, and even a few items for Lafitte. Charles, on the other hand, was quietly suffering.

'I forgot how enthusiastic women get when they shop,' he thought, trying to keep up.

"Are you tired, sweetie?" Sharon asked, noticing his expression.

"I'm fine," Charles replied.

With their purchases being loaded into the car by one of the guards, the group made their way to the bookstore.

"Go ahead, pick whatever books you like," Sharon said.

Charles, accompanied by a guard, roamed the aisles, gathering every language book he could find. Then he moved on to science books, stacking them high.

When he returned with his haul, Sharon raised an eyebrow. "Are you really going to read all those?"

"Yes," Charles replied confidently.

"Alright, but if I catch you not reading them, you're going to be in trouble, Charles Xavier," she warned with a smile.

"I understand, ma'am," Charles said, smiling back.

Sharon ruffled his hair affectionately. As she did, Charles had an internal moment of nostalgia. 'I'm really going to miss this hair. I had long hair in my past life, but I guess in this one, it won't matter. Goodbye, hair.'

Once they returned home, Charles immediately dove into his books. 'I need a solid foundation before I can tackle the more advanced material in the library.'

The library in the estate was full of complex texts, but without the basics, reading them was pointless. Even with his mutant abilities, he needed to pace himself.

'My mind isn't ready yet,' he thought. 'When my hair starts falling out, then I'll be a true genius.'

He sighed, imagining his future bald self. 'I guess I'll end up like Lex or Saitama,* he mused. *But I'll be a fusion of the two. Strong and Intellectual.'

With renewed determination, Charles promised himself: 'I'll be something greater.'

The following day,

Dr. Brian Xavier scrutinized the latest data on mutants, his brow furrowed in concentration. A hand landed on his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. "Take a break, Brian," a familiar voice urged.

It was Dr. Kurt Marko, Brian's closest friend and colleague in the Black Womb Project.

"I'm fine," Brian replied, his eyes still glued to the screen. "I need to go over this one more time. I don't want to miss anything—Dr. Milbury will kick me off the research if I slip up."

"He won't," Kurt reassured. "He values you more than most of the team."

Brian shook his head. "You're wrong."

Inwardly, Kurt scoffed. 'He does. Milbury pays you more than the rest of us. He treats you like a star researcher. What nonsense is this?' Kurt forced a smile. 'You should be grateful to even be here,' he thought.

"But if that's what you want, keep going," Kurt said, backing away and leaving the room.

Outside, another researcher, Alexander Ryking, awaited him. "How's Brian?"

"Still buried in mutant DNA analysis," Kurt sighed.

"Again?" Alexander frowned. "He should rest. He's one of the brightest minds we have."

As they walked down the corridor, Kurt's expression soured. 'Brightest mind, my ass. I'm just as good as him,' he seethed inwardly.

Meanwhile, in Dr. Milbury's private lab, young Charles Xavier was undergoing another round of experiments.

Charles strapped to a cold metallic table, surrounded by ominous machinery and glowing vials.

A voice, calm yet laced with chilling curiosity, echoed in the chamber. "Today, we shall see how your body reacts to the new sequence, Charles"

Mr Sinister looking at Charles while having a thought in mind 'The boy's potential is staggering. If I can isolate the genes responsible for his telepathy and merge them with my own genes, I could create the ultimate mutant—a being with a mind beyond the reach of any known limits'

"Today, Charles, I'm going to splice your DNA with mine," Mr. Sinister said, his voice smooth and calculating. "I want to see how your genes adapt and evolve."

Sinister's hands moved with clinical precision as he injected the serum, a toxic mixture of extracted genes and enhancing chemicals, directly into Charles' bloodstream.

A searing pain ripped through his body, every nerve aflame as his DNA was forcibly rewritten.

Charles felt his mind expanding, stretching like a balloon about to burst, as new sensations flooded his consciousness.

'Stop it!' He could hear thoughts, thousands of them, echoing in his skull—a cacophony that threatened to shatter his sanity.

'I won't lose myself...'

He woke, drenched in sweat, his head pounding with a thousand voices.

Each thought, each fear, each desire of those around him crashed into his mind like a relentless storm.

'Get out of my head!' He screamed, trying to silence them, but they only grew louder.

In a desperate attempt to control the chaos, his powers surged outward, shattering the restraints and sending a wave of telepathic energy through the room.

Sinister watched as the boy thrashed on the table, the psychic energy crackling around him like a storm. 'Too fragile,' he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. 'His mind fractures under the strain. A flawed vessel, unworthy of the perfection I seek.' He turned away, already plotting his next move. In a swift motion, he teleported behind Charles and knocked him out with a quick chop to the neck.

'I need to try a different approach. Gene splicing isn't yielding the results I want. His telepathic abilities have improved, but it's still not satisfactory,' Mr. Sinister thought as he walked away, disappointment etched on his face.