Chapter 18: Entrance Ceremony and Problem Girl

"I'm such an idiot. Seriously." Dante looked up, eyes dull and lifeless. "I knew Xavier's School had its share of bratty students, but I didn't know the FBI Academy had an entire army of them. My brain must've short-circuited two days ago when I agreed to be a teacher at the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy."

"But you only taught one class at the start of the semester," Ada Wong replied calmly, sipping her coffee, "then ghosted like a bad Tinder date."

"Exactly! Because I quit!" Dante jumped up from the floor like he'd been electrocuted. "If I stayed around those little punks any longer, I swear I'd have snapped and started handing out discipline via blunt trauma."

"You already did."

Ada watched him silently melt down, sipping her coffee with veteran indifference, as her brain replayed the chaos from two days earlier—the official launch of the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy.

… …

That day, every big name from the Federal Bureau of Investigation had gathered.

It was the grand entrance ceremony for the newly merged FBI Academy and Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters—rebranded as the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy.

Up on stage, delivering the opening remarks, was none other than the newly appointed Dean:

Professor X.

"Good morning, leaders, teachers, and students!"

"Bathed in spring rain, adorned with summer flowers! In this beautiful autumn, we gather to celebrate the merger of the FBI Academy and Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and the grand opening of the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy! Together, we will usher in a new beginning—a new future!"

"First, please allow me, Charles Francis Xavier, Dean of the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, to express my sincerest greetings and deepest respect to our frontline Agent instructors on behalf of the leadership of the Federal Bureau of Investigation…"

Fury and Dante sat stiffly beside him.

By minute five, both of them were regretting their life choices.

He was still going.

A veteran principal to the core, Professor X's speech was indistinguishable from a high school pep talk—complete with metaphors, historical references, and a few motivational quotes that may or may not have been plagiarized from calendar memes.

The man hadn't said anything useful, but he sure said a lot of words.

And then came the actual announcements.

Just one key point. Simple, right?

Except it had twenty sub-points.

Each sub-point had its own three- to five-part breakdown.

And of course, before wrapping up, he circled back to re-emphasize the "key" takeaways.

Mystique and Wolverine had already tapped out, headphones in, zoning out like bored kids in Sunday school.

It was then that everyone realized something important:

These Agents may be elite in covert ops, monster hunting, and interdimensional crisis response—but when it came to teaching, they were all hopeless amateurs.

Compared to them, Professor X was a five-star, max-level education boss.

He didn't just teach.

He infused. He disassembled your brain and poured information in like you were a teacup.

The only downside?

He was exhausting.

Dante felt like he'd time-traveled back to his worst high school assembly.

Eventually—mercifully—Professor X finished his speech.

Dante let out a breath of relief… too early.

"And now, let us welcome Agent Dante, Captain of the Star Team and External Liaison of the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, to say a few words! Please welcome him with a round of applause!"

Wait—what!?

Dante's soul nearly left his body.

That part definitely wasn't in the schedule!

He realized too late that all his eye-contact and hand signals during the speech had probably been misinterpreted as "I also want to say something."

Professor X must've just winged it and handed him the mic.

Trapped. Ambushed. Doomed.

With no time to prepare, Dante took the mic and looked down at the crowd of emotionally broken students.

There was a long, awkward pause.

Then, finally, he said the only line that made sense:

"The entrance ceremony ends here. Dismissed."

A full beat of stunned silence—and then the room exploded with cheers.

Students bolted like prisoners hearing the word "parole."

Some Mutants literally used their powers to teleport or fly out.

Professor X had broken them.

And yet… technically? It was a successful opening.

Over a hundred Mutant students had now merged into the Bureau's youth training pipeline.

The system—previously half-dead—was suddenly alive and buzzing.

A little too buzzing.

Because the real problems didn't come from the Mutant teens.

No.

The headaches were from the new civilian recruits Fury had pulled from every corner of society.

Peter Parker. Daniel Rand. Ava Ayala. Luke Cage. Sam Alexander. Tyrone Johnson. Tandy Bowen. Doreen Green.

Name doesn't ring a bell?

How about their aliases:

Spider-Man. Iron Fist. White Tiger. Luke Cage. Nova. Cloak. Dagger. Squirrel Girl.

Yeah.

That batch.

Some of them were destined to be future frontline superheroes.

Others were destined to… confuse the hell out of everyone with their power sets.

But now?

They were all freshmen at the New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy.

Dante glanced over the roster and had to admit—it felt like someone pulled this class list straight out of Ultimate Spider-Man.

Which actually made sense, considering how early-stage this world's superhero community was.

The public hadn't really processed the idea of superheroes yet.

They were just starting to see them emerge.

Harley Quinn, meanwhile, was pacing the halls in a white lab coat layered over her usual ripped hot girl ensemble—because why wouldn't you pair medical credentials with chaos?

Despite being completely bonkers, Harley was still the best psychologist in the Bureau.

And God knows, teenagers with superpowers? Mandatory therapy.

Harley flipped through the roster like it was a dating app, then paused on one name.

"Wait a sec. This kid—Jessica Jones—didn't sign in?"

Dante blinked.

He checked the sign-in sheet.

Sure enough—one missing name.

Jessica Jones.

He knew that name.

A street-level powerhouse. A raw nerve wrapped in sarcasm and trauma. Basically the poster child for "gifted but troubled."

Without hesitation, Dante tapped his comm and opened a live channel to Ingrid.

"Captain, awaiting your command."

"Jessica Jones. Freshman. New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. I want all her data—full profile and real-time location—on my terminal in five."

"As you wish."

Call ended.

"Jeez," Harley muttered, "it's just a kid skipping orientation. You're going full manhunt on her?"

"Okay, first of all, you're literally insane."

"Hey!"

"And second of all—this is Fury's freshman pick. You think he recruits normal teenagers? I'd bet cash if we send two Agents after her, they're coming back with broken noses and trauma reports."

"So?"

"So," Dante sighed, "I'm going myself. Apparently, I'm just destined to be a workaholic."

(To be continued.)