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emperordinozenmon · 26 days ago

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X-ecuted

Dinozen’s send off to Jeewon since Cignature is disbanding

The sleek, black jet landed smoothly on the sprawling grounds of Xavier’s School, the engines winding down with a mechanical whir. Storm stepped onto the ramp first, her white hair catching the sunlight, followed closely by a stocky, broad-shouldered young man who carried himself with quiet intensity.

“Remember, Dragon,” Storm said, her voice calm yet firm. “This place is a sanctuary, but it’s also a challenge. You’ll meet others like you—different, powerful, and learning to belong. Give it a chance.”

Dragon grunted in acknowledgment, adjusting the straps of his duffel bag. “We’ll see how they feel about a guy who could melt a building by accident.”

Storm smirked. “I think you’ll find yourself fitting in more than you know.”

As they stepped into the main building, the hum of youthful energy and the chatter of students filled the air. Storm told her nephew to stay put as she had to talk to Logan really quickly. Dragon stood alone for a moment. Dragon took in the scene with curiosity and unease, his powerful frame causing more than a few heads to turn. He kept his eyes forward, focusing on his aunt's return, until—

“Hey, watch it!”

Dragon felt a small figure bounce off his chest. He looked down to see a girl with short, vibrant green-tipped hair rubbing her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he muttered, stepping back.

“No problem,” she said, looking up at him with sharp eyes and a crooked grin. “Didn’t think I’d run into a wall inside the school.”

Dragon’s lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Name’s Dragon. And you are?”

“Asuka,” she said, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves. “Better known as Shatter. You must be new. I’d remember someone built like a tank walking around here. Well, at least as much as the 4 others built like tanks people we have.”

“Yeah, just got here,” Dragon replied. “Storm’s taking me to meet Beast. She just had to talk to Wolverine before.”

“Dr. McCoy? Good luck with that,” Asuka said, rolling her eyes playfully. “He’s great, but he loves to talk. Anyway, stick with me. I’ll show you the ropes.”

Before Dragon could respond, two girls approached from further down the hallway. The first had an aura of authority and warmth, her honey-brown eyes sweeping over the scene with quiet amusement. Her companion, a taller girl with an innocent smile, and more athletic build, trailed close behind.

“Oh, new faces,” the first girl said, her voice smooth and melodic. “Hi, I’m Jeewon.”

The second girl waved, her voice softer but no less friendly. “I’m Natty.”

Dragon felt his chest tighten as his eyes met Jeewon’s. There was something magnetic about her presence, the way her confidence seemed effortless yet not overbearing. Her gaze lingered on him, curious and knowing, and it took all of his self-control not to fidget under the weight of it.

“Dragon,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Jeewon’s lips curved into a smile. “Dragon. A strong name for someone who looks the part.” Her eyes flicked over his broad shoulders, and he could’ve sworn her expression softened, but her composure didn’t falter. “You settling in okay?”

“Trying to,” he replied. “Not sure how this place works yet.”

“Well, you’ll figure it out. And if you need help…” Jeewon stepped closer, her gaze never leaving his. “I’m around.”

Natty, meanwhile, had started chatting with Asuka. “So, what’s your mutation?” she asked, tilting her head.

“I break stuff,” Asuka said with a grin. “You?”

“Force fields,” Natty said shyly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m still learning how to use them.”

“That’s so cool!” Asuka said, leaning in with genuine excitement. “Maybe we could practice together sometime?”

Natty blushed, her smile widening. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Jeewon, noticing the exchange, gave Natty a teasing nudge. “Looks like you’ve made a friend already.”

Asuka shot her a mock glare. “Says the one making goo-goo eyes at Dragon.”

Dragon blinked, his face heating. “What?”

Jeewon, unfazed, gave Asuka a light shove. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just jealous I’m better at first impressions.”

“Better at everything,” Natty added with a giggle.

Before Dragon could decide whether to feel flattered or flustered, Storm reappeared at the end of the hallway.

“Dragon,” she called, her tone cutting through the playful banter. “Beast is waiting.”

Dragon glanced at Jeewon one last time, her calm smile somehow grounding him. “Guess I’ll see you around,” he said.

“You will,” Jeewon replied, her voice softer now, as if she were promising something.

With that, Dragon followed Storm down the corridor, his mind swirling with thoughts of fiery powers, strange new surroundings—and the girl whose gaze lingered far longer than it should have.

The pair reached the office, the door swinging open to reveal a room filled with shelves of books, glowing instruments, and a faint scent of antiseptic. A large, blue-furred figure turned from his conversation with a platinum-blonde woman as they entered.

“Ah, Ororo, wonderful to see you,” Beast said, his voice warm and deep. He turned his attention to Dragon, offering a wide smile. “And you must be Draigo. Welcome. My name is Hank McCoy.”

Dragon nodded politely. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Beast chuckled, waving a massive hand. “Oh, my stars, look at you—how formal! No need for that; you’re among peers here. Please, call me Hank. Or Beast, if you prefer.”

Dragon nodded again, filing the comment away. He quickly sized up Beast—intelligent, approachable, but likely to appreciate a certain level of respect. “Of course, Hank,” he said, his tone measured but kind.

Beast seemed satisfied and gestured to the woman beside him. “And this is Magik,” he said.

Dragon turned to the platinum-haired mutant as she stepped around Beast. Her sharp features and confident stance gave off an untouchable air, but her oversized Lorna Shore Pain Remains tour shirt hinted at something else entirely.

“You like Lorna Shore?” Dragon asked, his voice cutting through the formalities.

Magik’s eyes lit up, the guarded edge in her expression softening into surprise. “Oh, I love them,” she said, her tone suddenly animated. “Do I sense a fellow metalhead?”

Dragon nodded emphatically, a rare grin breaking through his usual reserve. “Big fan. Their riffs are insane, and their breakdowns…”

“Absolutely brutal,” Magik finished, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “You ever catch them live?”

“Not yet,” Dragon admitted, “but it’s on my list. You?”

“I saw them in Limbo,” Magik replied, her smirk playful. “Perks of being the queen of a hell dimension.”

Dragon raised an eyebrow but didn’t miss a beat. “Guess I’ll need a portal pass next time they tour.”

Magik laughed, a genuine, warm sound. She had been worried about connecting with the newcomer, but Dragon’s easy manner and shared interest melted through the initial awkwardness.

Before the conversation could deepen, Beast cleared his throat gently, stepping back into the moment. “Apologies for the interruption, but we should proceed. Dragon, we’ll be analyzing your X-gene today to better understand your mutation and how it manifests.”

Dragon gave a small nod, glancing at Magik. “We’ll pick this up later,” he said, a hint of mischief in his tone.

Magik grinned, crossing her arms. “Count on it.”

As Beast led Dragon to the examination area, Storm exchanged a quiet, knowing look with Magik. “He’s in good hands,” Storm said.

Magik smirked, her gaze lingering on the door. “He’s got potential. And good taste in music.”

Dragon and Beast walked into the lab, the sterile scent of metal and ozone filling the air. Machines hummed softly, their lights casting a faint glow over the rows of equipment. Beast moved with practiced ease, setting up a sleek, cylindrical device in the center of the room.

“So,” Beast began, his tone light, “Ororo tells me you’re quite the fire starter.”

Dragon caught the playful glint in the blue-furred scientist’s eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said, leaning into the joke.

Beast’s face lit up in delight. “Ah! A young man who appreciates my humor. A rare find indeed.”

Dragon grinned as he stepped closer to the machine, curiosity tugging at his thoughts. “What kind of scanner is that?” he asked, gesturing to the device. “Looks like it uses a mix of photonic and magnetic resonance imaging.”

Beast paused, raising an impressed eyebrow. “Well spotted. It’s a hybrid design, though I’ve enhanced it to better detect genetic and molecular anomalies. Not exactly standard equipment.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Dragon replied. “The calibration patterns on the outer ring aren’t something you’d see in commercial systems. Are those for fine-tuning the energy field density?”

Beast chuckled, a deep, warm sound. “You have a good eye, Dragon. Yes, precisely. Though I might suggest a more nuanced phrasing—the density adjustment is more about harmonizing the field to interact with the subject’s unique bioelectric signature.”

Dragon nodded, filing away the information. “Right, that makes sense. I probably would’ve missed the bioelectric part if I was designing it.”

“Well, that’s why it’s a team effort,” Beast said with an encouraging smile. “Now then, let’s see this remarkable X-gene of yours.”

Beast gestured for him to take a seat inside the cylindrical chamber, adjusting a few dials as he spoke.

“Try to stay still, and when you see a bright green light, you’ll be free to move.”

Dragon nodded and settled into the machine, its padded seat surprisingly comfortable. The soft whir of its engine grew louder, and the device rotated around him with a steady hum. As the machinery activated, Dragon was reminded of old dentist visits, the feeling of X-ray machines humming inches from his face.

The green light flashed suddenly, followed by a gentle beep signaling the scan’s completion.

“All done,” Beast announced, opening the chamber.

Dragon stepped out and followed him to another section of the lab, where a bank of monitors displayed complex data streams and glowing graphs. Beast examined the results with practiced focus, his eyes darting between screens.

“Well, Dragon is certainly the correct nickname for you,” Beast finally said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Oh? How so?” Dragon asked, leaning slightly to get a better view of the screens.

Beast gestured to the data displayed. “Since your X-gene awakened—let’s see—15 years, 3 months, 4 days, 5 hours, 2 minutes, and, ah… 58 seconds ago, it has been steadily generating a unique kinetic energy. This energy has several properties: it can create propulsion, ignite the very air around you, and grant you enhanced strength and resistance to kinetic trauma by absorbing and redirecting force. Quite the fiery combination.”

Dragon’s brow furrowed slightly as he absorbed the information. “Wait… So my power is kind of like Vibranium?”

Beast tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not quite, though the comparison is apt. Vibranium absorbs and redistributes energy, but your mutation does more than that. You not only absorb energy but also generate your own, allowing for nearly limitless potential—within reason, of course.”

Dragon smirked, but his curiosity was clearly piqued. “So, better Vibranium.”

Beast chuckled, his deep voice resonating warmly. “Precisely. For now, we’ll call this ability Destructo-Kinesis until we gather more data.”

Dragon hesitated before pointing at one of the monitors. “This pattern here… is that showing my energy output over time? Because it looks like there’s a spike every few hours. Could that be a natural build-up, like a battery needing to discharge?”

Beast adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Astute observation. Yes, that could explain the periodic fluctuations. Your mutation seems to have a self-regulating mechanism, but it might struggle when the energy exceeds a certain threshold. That might be what caused your… incident two weeks ago.”

Dragon crossed his arms, frowning slightly. “So, theoretically, if I trained myself to release smaller bursts of energy on a schedule, I might avoid another overload?”

“An excellent hypothesis,” Beast said, impressed. “Though I’d caution you to refine your control before testing that. Energy release is rarely as simple as flipping a switch.”

Dragon’s lips quirked into a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I guess my last ‘experiment’ didn’t go so well.”

Beast gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Trial and error, my boy. It’s how we all learn. And speaking of trials—”

A voice from the doorway interrupted them. “Hey, Beast, got a second?”

They turned to see Asuka leaning casually against the doorframe, her trademark smirk in place. Dragon raised an eyebrow at her sudden appearance.

“Don’t let me interrupt the science,” she teased, stepping into the room. “Just came to see if the fire starter here made it through his first lab session in one piece.”

Dragon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a small grin. “Still here, shatterstar. You worried about me?”

“Pfft. Please.” Asuka grinned. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t boring Hank to death with your stoic routine. wait hold up reverse, what was that you called me?”

"Um Shatter Star,"

"ooh I like that. I am keeping that as my future X-men name." Asuka said.

Dragon smiled, and said, "you're welcome"

Asuka rolled her eyes in annoyance. "God why are you so boring," she said

Beast cleared his throat, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “I assure you, Asuka, Dragon has been an excellent conversationalist. Far better than certain other students who interrupt my work.”

Asuka shot him an unrepentant smile. “Guilty as charged. Speaking of interruptions, Natty’s been looking for you,” she said, directing her words to Dragon. “Something about showing you the ‘fun’ side of the school.”

Dragon tilted his head. “Natty, huh?”

“She’s probably somewhere near the student lounge,” Asuka added. “If you’re lucky, you might catch her before she starts dragging random people into karaoke.”

Dragon exchanged a glance with Beast, who gave a small nod. “Go on,” Beast said. “I’ll finish analyzing the rest of this data. We can regroup later.”

“Thanks, Hank,” Dragon said, turning toward the door.

Asuka stepped aside to let him pass but fell into step beside him as they left the lab. “You know,” she said with a grin, “I think Natty might actually like you. Not sure why, though.”

Dragon smirked. “Guess I’m just likable.”

Asuka snorted. “We’ll see.”

The pair made their way down the hall, the conversation flowing easily between them. Asuka’s casual teasing kept things light, but her expression shifted ever so slightly when they reached the lounge. after that Asuka and Dragon split up

Asuka strolled through one of the quieter hallways of the school, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. She wasn’t headed anywhere in particular, just soaking in the strangeness of the day so far. Her mind wandered to the new guy, Dragon—interesting dude, but definitely intense. And then there was Natty.

Asuka caught herself smiling at the thought of the atheletic, bubbly girl with the force fields. “Cute,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she rounded a corner.

And there she was. Natty stood at a locker, struggling to fit a stack of books into a bag that seemed far too small for the job. Asuka paused for a second, taking in the sight before casually strolling up behind her.

“Need a hand, Force Field?” Asuka asked, leaning against the lockers with an easy smirk.

Natty startled slightly, turning to face her. “Oh! Hi, Asuka.” She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I think my bag’s rebelling against me.”

“Looks like it,” Asuka said, reaching out to take the books. “Let me see.”

Natty hesitated for a moment before handing them over. “Thanks. I swear, it’s like the harder I push, the more this thing resists.”

Asuka raised an eyebrow as she deftly rearranged the contents of the bag. “You’d think someone who can create force fields would have no problem with a stubborn zipper.”

Natty giggled, her cheeks tinged pink. “I can contain explosions, not my own poor packing decisions.”

“There.” Asuka zipped the bag with a flourish and handed it back to her. “Problem solved.”

“Wow, you’re good at this,” Natty said, slinging the bag over her shoulder. “Do you moonlight as a professional organizer?”

Asuka chuckled. “Nah, just a quick learner. Besides, I couldn’t let you struggle. You’d probably try to force-field the books into submission, and then we’d all be in trouble.”

Natty’s laugh rang out, light and sweet. “Hey, I’m not that reckless.”

“No? Guess I’ll have to stick around to find out,” Asuka said, her smirk softening into a playful grin.

Natty tilted her head, her smile turning shy. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh yeah?” Asuka leaned closer, her voice dropping slightly. “What’d you expect?”

“Someone tougher, maybe scarier,” Natty admitted, meeting her gaze. “But you’re… different.”

“I can be scary,” Asuka teased, crossing her arms. “But not with you. You’ve got that whole innocent charm thing going on. Kinda hard to be intimidating when you’re smiling like that.”

Natty’s blush deepened, and she glanced down at her shoes before looking back up. “Well, maybe I like the not-so-scary version of you.”

Asuka chuckled, feeling her own cheeks warm. “Good to know.” She straightened, taking a step back but still holding Natty’s gaze. “Guess I’ll see you around, force field.”

“You better,” Natty replied, her voice soft but firm.

Asuka gave her a wink before turning on her heel, and heading off down the hallway with a noticeable spring in her step.

Natty watched her go, a smile lingering on her lips.

A few days later Dragon was heading to his first training mission with Magik. He was excited as she had been hyping up all she was gonna teach him.

The corridors of Xavier’s School were bustling with the quiet hum of activity as students and teachers went about their day. Dragon was making his way to the training center, the sound of his boots echoing against the tiled floor. He was lost in thought, mulling over Beast’s words about his “Destructo-Kinesis” and wondering how it would hold up in a real training session.

As he rounded a corner, his thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he nearly collided with someone.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, reflexively reaching out to steady the person.

“Sorry about that!” came a cheerful, slightly breathless voice.

Dragon blinked and found himself face-to-face with Jeewon. Her warm brown eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked up at him, her small hands resting lightly on his arms where he’d caught her.

“No worries,” Dragon said, releasing her as she stepped back. He tried not to stare, but there was something about her—the confidence in her stance, the effortless way she carried herself—that made it hard to look away.

“You’re Dragon, right? Storm’s nephew?” Jeewon asked, tilting her head.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And you’re Jeewon… from Cignature, right?”

Her smile widened. “Guilty. Though here, I’m just another mutant trying to figure out her powers.”

Dragon raised an eyebrow. “You seem pretty confident for someone who’s ‘just trying to figure things out.’”

Jeewon laughed softly, the sound melodic and easy. “Fake it till you make it, right? Speaking of, where are you headed?”

“Training,” Dragon said, adjusting his posture slightly. “Trying to figure out what I can do without… you know, blowing up.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Blowing up? That sounds dramatic.”

“I wish I was being only dramatic, but It’s as dramatic as it sounds,” he admitted with a chuckle. “My mutation lets me generate and absorb energy. But if I take in too much without releasing it, things… get messy.”

“Messy how?” she asked, her tone equal parts teasing and intrigued.

“Let’s just say a field trip to the Grand Canyon ended with me making a brand-new crater,” Dragon said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jeewon’s laugh bubbled up again, but there was no trace of judgment in it—only genuine amusement. “That’s definitely a story. Sounds like you’ve got the power of a superhero and the control of a toddler.”

“Harsh, but fair,” Dragon said, grinning. “What about you? What’s your power?”

Jeewon hesitated for a moment before answering. “I manipulate soundwaves and fire. It’s not super flashy, but it can be pretty useful.”

Dragon’s interest piqued. “Soundwaves and fire, huh? Like, you can blast people with a scream or something?”

She nodded. “Something like that. I can amplify my voice to shatter objects or disorient people and also create roar flames that do various things. It’s more about precision than raw power, though. I’m still figuring out the limits.”

“Sounds versatile,” Dragon said, his tone genuinely impressed. “And way more controlled than what I’ve got going on.”

Jeewon gave him a playful nudge on the arm. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got potential—it just needs a little refining.”

Dragon chuckled, feeling a flicker of warmth at her words. “Thanks. I guess I could use someone like you to keep me in line.”

She arched an eyebrow, her smile turning slightly mischievous. “Oh, I don’t know. I might be more trouble than you can handle.”

He laughed a low and easy sound that surprised even him. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

For a moment, they just stood there, an unspoken connection sparking between them. The playful banter felt natural, but beneath it was a sense of mutual respect—and maybe something more.

“Well,” Jeewon said, breaking the silence but keeping her tone light, “I’d better let you get to training before Storm comes looking for you. She’s not one to mess with.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dragon replied, smirking.

Jeewon gave him a small wave as she started to walk away, her voice carrying over her shoulder. “Good luck, Dragon. Don’t blow up the school!”

“No promises,” he called after her, grinning as he watched her disappear down the hall.

As Dragon resumed his walk to the training center, a small smile tugged at his lips. Something about Jeewon’s presence—her confidence, her humor, the way she didn’t treat him like a walking disaster—had left an impression.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until a cheerful, teasing voice broke through his reverie.

“Looks like someone has a little crush,” Magik said, her tone laced with mischief.

Dragon spun around, his face immediately turning a shade lighter. “What? No! I mean—” He stumbled over his words, his hands waving in protest as if to bat away the very suggestion.

Magik grinned, thoroughly enjoying his flustered state. “Relax, rookie. I’m not judging.” She crossed her arms, her expression softening but retaining that mischievous glint. “In fact, I think you two would work surprisingly well together. There’s something complementary about your energies.”

Dragon opened his mouth to protest further, but Magik cut him off with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you two get plenty of time to figure that out. Maybe we’ll schedule a joint training session—Jeewon, Dazzler, you, and me. It’ll be fun.”

Dragon groaned internally, already imagining the teasing that would come from such a session. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, I absolutely do,” she shot back, her grin widening.

Deciding it was safer to change the subject, Dragon asked, “So, what kind of simulation are we running today?”

“Simulation?” Magik scoffed as though he’d suggested something ridiculous. “We’re sparring in Limbo. I don’t want my boyfriend mad at me for breaking the Danger Room again.”

Dragon paused mid-step, his brain processing her words. “Wait… your boyfriend is Forge?”

Magik blinked, momentarily thrown off. “How did you know that?”

“I met him yesterday,” Dragon replied with a shrug, “and he was talking about how Professor X asked him to set up the Danger Room for a new mutant with ‘volcanic abilities.’ He told Xavier no because, and I quote, ‘I have a concert date with my super-hot, scary metalhead girlfriend.’”

For a moment, Magik just stared at him, and then she burst out laughing—a genuine, unrestrained laugh that echoed down the hallway. “Okay, I’m impressed. You actually listened to Forge’s rambling and put two and two together. Most people tune him out after thirty seconds.”

Dragon grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it’s more of a ‘broken clock is right twice a day’ thing. I only ended up talking to him because he had a Gundam figure on his desk.”

Magik’s expression shifted to one of genuine surprise. “Wait a second—you’re the IBO fan Danny was talking about during our date?”

Dragon nodded, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, I might’ve geeked out about Iron-Blooded Orphans a little.”

Magik’s eyes widened further, and her grin turned into something more genuine. “Okay, now I really need to make sure you’ve got control over your powers. Can’t have you blowing up when you’re clearly one of the good ones.”

“Good ones?” Dragon repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Magik said, her tone more earnest now. “Smart enough to keep up with Forge, cool enough to love Lorna Shore, and geeky enough to bond over Gundam. You’re shaping up to be a pretty solid protege.”

Dragon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks… I think.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, rookie,” Magik teased, though her voice was warm. “Come on, let’s get to Limbo before I change my mind and actually throw you into a simulation.”

As they walked side by side, Dragon felt a sense of ease settle over him. Magik’s teasing and the way she treated him with a mix of challenge and camaraderie reminded him of the older sister he never had. It was clear she was rooting for him, even if she had a funny way of showing it.

Magik Opened one of her "stepping stones" and pushed Dragon through it. Dragon stumbled into Limbo with his mentor. She led him to an area she dubbed the training center

The dimly lit training chamber hummed with latent energy. Dragon stood opposite Magik, tension radiating from his muscular frame as he awaited her first move. Magik twirled her Soulsword lazily, her sharp blue eyes fixed on him like a hawk sizing up its prey.

“All right, rookie,” she said, grinning. “This is going to hurt. But it’ll hurt less if you move faster.”

Dragon smirked nervously, raising his fists. “That’s… comforting.”

Magik lunged without warning, her sword gleaming with eldritch fire. Dragon barely managed to sidestep, summoning a kinetic shield to block her follow-up strike. The force of the impact sent him stumbling back, his boots skidding across the floor.

“Not bad,” Magik remarked. “But not good enough.”

She pressed the attack, forcing Dragon to rely on his reflexes and raw strength. Despite his determination, it was clear he was struggling to keep up. After a particularly well-placed feint, Magik disarmed him, knocking him to the ground with the flat of her blade.

“You’re holding back,” she said, looking down at him.

Dragon scowled, his pride stinging more than his bruised shoulder. “I’m not.”

Magik extended a hand, helping him to his feet. “Yes, you are. I’ve seen you fight harder when you’re pissed off. What’s stopping you now?”

He hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Her gaze softened, though her tone remained firm. “You won’t hurt me. I can take care of myself. What are you terrified of, Dragon?”

The question hung in the air like a weight. Dragon crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “I’m not afraid.”

Magik tilted her head, studying him. “Then why do you keep pulling your punches? Who taught you that being strong was something to be ashamed of?”

For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t answer. But then, he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he sat down on the edge of the sparring mat.

“My family,” he admitted quietly.

Magik sheathed her sword and joined him on the mat, sitting cross-legged. “What happened?”

Dragon hesitated, his hands clenching into fists. “They were… all mutants. Every single one of them. Telepaths. My dad even had a secondary mutation—he could see three years into the future whenever he wanted. They thought I didn’t have powers, though. Just some ‘ordinary kid’ in a family full of prodigies.”

“And then?” Magik prompted gently.

“And then my powers finally showed up,” he said, his voice bitter. “I was thirteen. Got into a fight at school—some bully tried to humiliate me in front of everyone. I lashed out, and my powers… they weren’t pretty. I wasn’t pretty. My family freaked out.”

Magik frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They didn’t want me around anymore,” Dragon said, his voice cracking slightly. “Said they couldn’t deal with a ‘violent’ mutant in the house. Like I was some kind of ticking time bomb. They didn’t even try to understand me—they just wanted me gone.”

Magik’s expression darkened. “Let me guess—they used their telepathy to make you doubt yourself. Turned your own thoughts against you.”

Dragon nodded, his face haunted. “It wasn’t just the arguments. They’d know what I was going to say before I even said it. Every excuse, every plea, every moment of anger—they shut it down before I could even get the words out.”

Magik sat in silence for a moment, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. “That’s not family. That’s cruelty.”

Dragon looked away, ashamed. “Sometimes I think they were right. Maybe I am dangerous.”

“Bullshit,” Magik said sharply, making him look up in surprise. “You’re not dangerous because you’re strong. You’re dangerous because they taught you to hate yourself for it.”

He blinked, her words hitting harder than any blow.

Magik softened her tone, leaning closer. “Listen to me, Dragon. You’re standing at a crossroads. You can let their lies turn you into someone bitter and angry—someone like Magneto. Or you can prove them wrong by becoming better than they ever were.”

He stared at her, her words sinking in. “How do I do that?”

Magik smirked, standing up and offering him a hand. “By training with me until you can kick my ass.”

Despite himself, Dragon chuckled, taking her hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Scene: Storm and Magik

While the students studied, Magik found Storm in the faculty lounge, sipping tea by the window.

“Got a minute?” Magik asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Storm nodded, setting her cup down. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s about Dragon,” Magik said, crossing her arms. “I was pushing him pretty hard during training today, and… I learned some things.”

Storm raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Magik hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “His family. They were all telepaths, right?”

Storm nodded grimly. “Yes. I believe his father was particularly gifted.”

Magik frowned. “They used their powers against him, didn’t they? To manipulate him, shut him down before he could stand up for himself?”

Storm sighed, her expression pained. “Unfortunately, yes. His family saw his powers as an embarrassment, something to be feared rather than nurtured. They didn’t understand him, so they chose to silence him instead. It’s no wonder he struggles with trust and control.”

Magik’s jaw tightened. “He’s on the edge, Ororo. I can see it. If we don’t guide him the right way, he could end up going down a dark path.”

Storm nodded, her voice firm. “Then we’ll guide him. Together. Dragon has the potential to be great, but he’ll need all the support we can give him to overcome his past.”

Magik’s gaze softened. “He’s lucky to have you as a mentor.”

Storm smiled faintly. “And he’s lucky to have you as well, Illyana. You understand him in ways few others could.”

Magik smirked. “I just hope he doesn’t break my sword when he finally beats me.” Study

Later, Dragon joined Jeewon, Natty, and Asuka in the library. The three were bent over a table, working through stacks of books and notes. Jeewon greeted him with a warm smile as he sat down, the tension from earlier slowly melting away in her presence.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of Xavier’s library, casting warm golden streaks across the room. At one of the larger tables, Jeewon sat with her notes neatly spread out in front of her, her pen gliding effortlessly across the page. Across from her, Dragon was hunched over, furrowing his brow at the math problem in his workbook like it was his arch-nemesis.

At the far end of the table, Natty and Asuka were nestled closer together, their heads nearly touching as they shared a textbook.

“Okay, so if the formula is like this,” Natty said, pointing to a line on the page, “then the answer should be…”

“Eighteen?” Asuka ventured, glancing at her with hopeful eyes.

Natty grinned, her dimple making a brief appearance. “Exactly. See, I told you you’re better at this than you think.”

Asuka blushed slightly, her hand brushing against Natty’s as she turned the page. Jeewon, from her spot at the table, caught the moment out of the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself but didn’t comment, instead pretending to adjust her notes.

“Ugh, this doesn’t make sense!” Dragon groaned, breaking the relative quiet. He shoved his workbook aside dramatically, his frustration palpable.

Jeewon chuckled softly, looking up at him. “Need some help?”

Dragon hesitated, his pride battling with the need for assistance. Eventually, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this equation was designed to make me feel dumb.”

Jeewon slid her chair closer to his, their shoulders almost brushing as she leaned over to look at his workbook. “Alright, show me what you’ve got so far.”

Dragon quickly forgot his frustration as Jeewon’s presence filled his senses. He focused on the math problem—at least, he tried to. Every time Jeewon pointed something out, her hand moving gracefully across the page, Dragon found himself more focused on her than the numbers.

Across the table, Natty noticed Dragon’s stolen glances and Jeewon’s patient, encouraging tone. She smirked knowingly, nudging Asuka gently.

“What?” Asuka whispered, looking confused.

Natty leaned in closer, her voice low. “Dragon’s totally into her.”

Asuka blinked, glancing over at the pair. “Really? I mean… they do look kind of close.”

“They’re cute together,” Natty whispered back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Then, with a sly grin, she added, “Kind of like us.”

Asuka’s cheeks turned a soft pink, and she looked down at the textbook, suddenly very interested in the next problem. “You’re imagining things,” she muttered.

“Am I?” Natty teased, her voice playful. She let the subject drop, though, focusing back on the task at hand.

Meanwhile, Jeewon had caught the exchange between Natty and Asuka. She noticed the way Natty’s eyes lingered on Asuka a little longer than necessary, the way Asuka seemed flustered but secretly pleased by the attention. Jeewon smiled softly, recognizing the familiar signs of something new and sweet blooming between them.

“You’re doing great, Dragon,” Jeewon said, snapping him back to the task at hand.

Dragon glanced at her, his expression softening. “Thanks. You make it look so easy.”

“That’s what practice is for,” Jeewon replied warmly, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment that felt longer than it should have.

Natty, watching the scene unfold, bit back a laugh. She wasn’t sure who was more obvious—Dragon with his subtle admiration or Jeewon with the gentle way she encouraged him.

“So,” Natty said suddenly, breaking the moment, “when’s the next study session? This has been way more fun than I expected.”

Jeewon glanced over at her with a knowing smile. “Whenever you two want. You’ve been working really hard.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Asuka, whose blush deepened under the praise.

Dragon leaned back in his chair, grinning at Natty. “Yeah, it’s been fun—frustrating math problems aside. I could do this again.”

Natty gave him a sly look. “Oh, I bet you could.”

Dragon frowned slightly, sensing there was a deeper meaning to her words, but Jeewon’s laugh distracted him.

“Alright,” Jeewon said, standing and stretching. “Let’s wrap up for today. Same time next week?”

Everyone nodded, and as they packed up their things, Natty and Asuka fell into step together, their conversation already picking up where it had left off.

Jeewon lingered for a moment, walking alongside Dragon. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her smile soft. “You’re a quick learner, you know. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Thanks,” Dragon said, his voice quieter than usual. He wanted to say more, but the words didn’t come.

Natty glanced back at them as she walked away with Asuka, her grin widening. “They’re so obvious,” she whispered to Asuka, who only giggled in response. The first Mission

Jeewon, Dragon, Asuka and Natty were happy to be assigned their first mission. A rescue mission on the recently attacked Genosha.

The air over Genosha was heavy with ash and despair. The once-thriving mutant refuge now lay in ruins, buildings reduced to jagged skeletons, and the ground scarred with the blackened remains of Sentinel attacks. Smoke curled into the sky, and the faint sound of survivors calling out for help carried on the wind.

Dragon, Jeewon, Natty, and Asuka stood at the edge of the destruction, surveying the devastation with grim expressions. They had been sent to assist in the recovery effort—rescuing survivors, stabilizing structures, and helping the injured. For some, this was their first mission.

“Okay, team,” Jeewon said, her voice steady despite the grim scene before them. “We split into pairs. Dragon, you’re with me. Asuka, Natty, you two cover the eastern quadrant. Look for survivors first—no heroics. If you spot something you can’t handle, call for backup.”

“Got it,” Natty said, glancing at Asuka. Her usually carefree demeanor was subdued, her brows furrowed with worry.

Asuka gave a small nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Natty’s wrist—a quiet reassurance. Natty glanced down at the touch and managed a faint smile before the two set off toward the smoldering wreckage.

Scene: Eastern Quadrant

The rubble-strewn streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional groan of unstable debris shifting in the wind. Natty and Asuka worked in quiet synchronicity, clearing paths and calling out for survivors.

“Over here,” Natty said, spotting movement beneath a collapsed wall. Together, they shifted the debris to uncover a young mutant boy clutching a makeshift toy carved from wood. His eyes were wide with fear, his small body trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Asuka said softly, kneeling beside him. Her voice was calm and steady, like the rhythm of waves on a distant shore. “We’re here to help.”

The boy hesitated, clutching the toy tighter.

Natty crouched beside Asuka, her warm smile cutting through the tension. “She’s right. We’ve got you. Can you tell us your name?”

“Luca,” the boy whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Hi, Luca,” Natty said. “I’m Natty, and this is Asuka. We’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

The boy nodded hesitantly, allowing Asuka to lift him gently into her arms. She cradled him as though he were made of glass, her typically reserved expression softening into something tender.

“You’re safe now,” she murmured.

Natty watched the scene unfold, her chest tightening. Asuka’s gentle care for the boy was a side of her Natty hadn’t seen before, and it struck her deeply. Without thinking, she reached out and placed a hand on Asuka’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.

Asuka glanced up, her dark eyes meeting Natty’s. For a moment, the chaos around them faded, leaving only the quiet understanding between them.

“You’re good at this,” Natty said softly.

Asuka’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “So are you.”

Scene: The Mission’s End

By the time they regrouped with Jeewon and Dragon, the sun was beginning to set, casting an amber glow over the ravaged landscape. The team had rescued dozens of survivors, but the weight of the loss was still palpable.

Dragon looked exhausted, his hands covered in soot, but there was a quiet determination in his eyes. Jeewon stood beside him, her presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos.

“How’d it go?” Jeewon asked as Natty and Asuka approached.

“We found a few survivors,” Asuka said, her voice measured. “They’re being escorted to the evacuation zone now.”

Jeewon nodded, her gaze lingering on the two. There was a closeness between them that hadn’t been there before—a quiet understanding forged in the fire of their shared experience.

As the team began making their way back to the extraction point, Natty fell into step beside Asuka, their shoulders brushing. For a moment, neither said anything, content to walk in silence.

Finally, Natty spoke, her voice low enough that only Asuka could hear. “Hey.”

Asuka glanced at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You did good today,” Natty said. “I mean it. You’re… amazing.”

Asuka’s expression softened, and she looked away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “So are you,” she replied quietly.

Natty grinned, her usual playful energy returning. “I know.”

Despite the destruction around them, a small laugh escaped Asuka, and the sound was like a spark of light in the darkness.

Behind them, Jeewon exchanged a knowing glance with Dragon.

“Looks like they’re getting close,” she said softly.

Dragon nodded, watching the pair with a faint smile. “Yeah. Good for them.”

Jeewon turned her attention to him, studying his expression. “And what about us?”

Dragon froze, caught off guard by the question. But before he could stammer out a reply, Jeewon smiled and started walking ahead, leaving him to trail after her, his heart pounding in his chest.

The team was making their way toward the jet, the promise of rest after a harrowing day driving them forward. The sun hung low, painting the ruins of Genosha in shades of orange and crimson. Dragon walked beside Jeewon, their conversation punctuated by the soft crunch of rubble underfoot, while Natty and Asuka trailed behind, exchanging quiet words and occasional smiles.

Just as the jet came into view, the ground trembled beneath their feet. A deep, mechanical roar echoed through the air, and from the wreckage of a destroyed building, a sentinel rose, its towering frame illuminated by the fading sunlight.

“Look out!” Jeewon shouted, instinctively moving in front of the group. Her training kicked in as she raised her hands, preparing to summon her powers, but the sentinel’s targeting systems locked onto her instantly.

“Mutant identified,” the sentinel’s monotone voice boomed. “Threat level: Omega. Neutralizing target.”

A beam of energy shot from its chest, hurtling straight toward Jeewon.

Before she could react, Dragon was there. He moved faster than she’d ever seen, positioning himself between her and the blast. With a roar of defiance, he threw up his hands, and a shimmering kinetic shield erupted around him, absorbing the energy.

The impact sent shockwaves through the ground, forcing everyone to stagger back. Natty grabbed Asuka to steady her, their expressions a mix of shock and fear.

“Dragon!” Jeewon called, her voice laced with worry.

He didn’t respond. The shield held firm, crackling with raw energy as the beam subsided. When Dragon turned to face her, Jeewon’s breath caught. His eyes were no longer the soft brown she’d grown accustomed to. His sclera had turned pitch black, and his irises burned with a vivid, raging red—a transformation both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

“Stay behind me,” Dragon growled, his voice lower, almost guttural.

The sentinel advanced, its heavy footfalls shaking the earth. More shadows loomed on the horizon—two, three, then five additional sentinels rising from the ruins, drawn by the commotion.

Dragon didn’t hesitate. He launched himself into the air, propelled by a burst of kinetic energy. He also finally managed to summon his soulspear and fight the sentinels. His movements were feral, each strike precise and devastating.

The first sentinel didn’t stand a chance. Dragon’s punch shattered its chest-plate, sending shards of metal flying as it collapsed into a heap. He didn’t stop. Turning with inhuman speed, he tore through the next, his energy-imbued fists ripping its limbs apart before driving a kinetic blast into its core, obliterating it.

The remaining sentinels converged, firing beams of energy and missiles in a coordinated assault. Dragon roared, the sound echoing across the battlefield, and a massive shockwave of red-tinged kinetic energy erupted from him, disintegrating the projectiles mid-air.

Jeewon watched in stunned silence, her heart pounding. She had seen Dragon in combat before, but this was different. This was raw, unbridled rage—a primal force that seemed to consume him.

“Dragon, stop!” she shouted, but her voice was lost in the chaos.

By the time the last sentinel fell, its head sliced clean off and its core crushed under Dragon’s heel, the island was silent. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of scorched metal.

Dragon stood amidst the wreckage, his shoulders heaving with every breath. His hands were clenched into fists, still crackling with residual energy. Slowly, his glowing red eyes shifted, landing on Jeewon.

Jeewon approached cautiously, her heart still racing. The others hung back, unsure of what to do.

“Dragon,” she said softly, her voice trembling but steady.

He blinked, and for a moment, the red in his eyes flickered before returning to their usual brown. His shoulders slumped, and the tension in his body seemed to drain away.

“I… I didn’t mean to…” His voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s okay,” Jeewon said, stepping closer. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “You saved us. You saved me.”

Dragon looked down at her hand, then into her eyes. For a moment, the world around them faded, and all he could see was her—the trust in her gaze, the warmth of her touch.

Behind them, Natty and Asuka exchanged a glance.

“Remind me never to piss him off,” Natty muttered, trying to lighten the tension.

Asuka smirked faintly, but her eyes were still on Dragon, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t think it’s about anger. It’s about her.”

Jeewon turned back to the group, her usual composure returning. “Let’s get to the jet. We still have a long way to go.”

As they began to move, Dragon lingered for a moment, staring at the wreckage he had created. His hands flexed unconsciously, the memory of his outburst still fresh in his mind.

Jeewon slowed her pace, waiting for him. When he finally walked beside her, she spoke quietly.

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she said.

Dragon glanced at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and uncertainty.

“Thanks,” he said softly.

Jeewon didn’t press him further. She simply stayed by his side, her presence a quiet reassurance as they headed toward the jet, leaving the ruins of Genosha—and the revelation of Dragon’s power—behind.

The debriefing room was quiet save for the hum of the holographic display. Jeewon stood in front of Storm and Magik, recounting the events of their mission. Her voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of tension as she described the Sentinel ambush.

“…and that’s when Dragon intervened,” Jeewon said, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “He shielded me from the blast and then… well, he destroyed the rest of them.”

Storm nodded, her face calm but her piercing gaze betraying how deeply she was processing the account. Magik leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she listened.

“When you say ‘destroyed,’” Magik interjected, her tone even, “do you mean efficiently, or are we talking scorched-earth chaos?”

Jeewon hesitated. “More the latter. It was… intense. His powers—it was like something inside him just snapped. His eyes changed, and the sheer force of his energy… I’ve never seen him so focused so angry.”

Magik shot a knowing look at Storm, who gave a subtle nod.

“I see,” Storm said. “And how was Dragon afterward?”

Jeewon hesitated again, her mind replaying the image of Dragon standing amidst the wreckage, his shoulders heavy with guilt. “He was shaken. I think he scared himself more than anyone else.”

Before Storm could respond, the air in the room shifted. A faint, almost imperceptible hum grew louder, and the temperature seemed to drop. Magik straightened, her hand instinctively reaching for her Soulsword.

The doors slid open, and Magneto entered.

His presence was magnetic—literally and figuratively. Dressed in his iconic crimson and violet, Magneto exuded authority and power. The room seemed smaller with him in it, and the air crackled faintly as his cape brushed the floor.

“Ororo. Illyana. And you must be Jeewon,” Magneto said, his deep voice carrying a mix of courtesy and command as he inclined his head toward each of them.

Jeewon stiffened, caught off guard. “Yes, sir.”

Magneto turned to Storm, his gaze intense. “I’m here for the boy—Dragon. I saw his performance on Genosha. Raw power, unbridled potential. He needs guidance, a mentor who understands what it means to channel such rage.”

Magik’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward slightly. “Guidance like yours?” she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

Magneto smiled faintly, unbothered by her tone. “I can offer him what you cannot. A place among those who won’t fear him. Who won’t suppress what he is. Dragon is more than a mutant—he is a force, one that could shape the future of our kind.”

Storm stepped forward, her presence as commanding as Magneto’s. “Dragon is under my care, Erik, and will remain so until further notice. I appreciate your concern, but his path is not yours to dictate.”

There was a tense silence. Magneto studied Storm for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding. “As you wish. But understand this, Ororo—when the boy is ready, he will seek me out. He will need what only I can provide.”

He turned to leave but paused, casting one last glance at Jeewon. “Take care of him,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding. Then, with a sweep of his cape, he was gone.

The room was quiet again, but the tension lingered. Jeewon’s heart was still racing, though not entirely because of Magneto. She replayed his words in her mind, particularly the way he had spoken about Dragon.

Magik broke the silence, her voice dry. “Well, that was fun. Who wants to bet he’s got another grand scheme cooking up?”

Storm ignored her, turning to Jeewon. “You did well in your report. Thank you, Jeewon. You’re dismissed.”

Jeewon nodded and left the room, her thoughts spinning. As she walked down the corridor, she couldn’t shake the jealousy that had flared up when Magneto mentioned Dragon. The idea of him leaving—of him being with someone else, even in a mentorship capacity—had made her chest tighten.

Was it because she cared about him as a teammate? A friend?

Or was it something more?

By the time she reached the common area, she had no clear answers, only the undeniable realization that Dragon meant more to her than she had been willing to admit. The mansion was unusually lively that day, with Dragon’s family making an unannounced visit. While Dragon had vanished to avoid the inevitable confrontation, Jeewon found herself wandering the halls after training, heading to the kitchen for a post-session snack. She turned a corner and nearly collided with a group of unfamiliar but impeccably dressed people.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Jeewon said, stepping back and bowing slightly out of reflex.

“No need to apologize,” said a tall man with graying hair and a sharp, commanding air. His piercing blue eyes met hers, and he smiled warmly. “You must be one of Dragon’s teammates.”

“I am,” Jeewon replied with a polite smile. “I’m Jeewon.”

“Jeewon,” the man repeated, his tone pleasant as he extended a hand. “I’m Draigo SR. Draigo/'s father. This is my wife, Evelyn, and our daughter, Dandelion.”

Evelyn, a refined woman with striking features, gave Jeewon a kind smile, and Charlotte, a younger version of her father, offered a small wave. she noticed that while Dragon shared features with them their difference in presentation was night and day. Dragon always had this air of approachability to him that his family lacked. she saw sparks of it in his mother.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Jeewon said, shaking Benjamin’s hand.

“And you as well,” Evelyn said. “We were just hoping to see DJ. Have you seen him?”

Jeewon hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I think he’s taking some time to himself. He’s… been busy.”

“Understandable,” Draigo SR said smoothly, his tone dripping with understanding. “He’s always been the type to need space. A thoughtful boy.”

Jeewon nodded, relieved by their apparent kindness. “He really is. He’s one of the hardest workers on the team.”

Evelyn chuckled lightly. “That sounds like him. But tell us, Jeewon—what is it you do here? What’s your role on the team?”

Jeewon smiled proudly. “I’m a field leader in training. I specialize in adaptive combat and power coordination. It’s my job to make sure the team works well together.”

Dandelion raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A leader in training? Impressive. And how do you find working with Dragon?”

“He’s incredible,” Jeewon said without hesitation. “He’s got this natural talent for protecting people, and his powers are amazing. He just needs to believe in himself more.”

The family exchanged a quick glance, their smiles still intact. Jeewon felt a faint pressure in her mind, but it was gone so quickly that she barely noticed.

Evelyn’s smile faltered ever so slightly, and Draigo’s SR previously warm demeanor grew noticeably cooler. “Amazing powers, you say?” Benjamin asked, his tone now carrying a hint of skepticism.

Jeewon nodded, oblivious to the change. “Yes. His kinetic shields are incredible, and his ability to absorb and redirect energy saved us on our last mission. He’s really stepped up.”

“Saved you?” Evelyn said, her voice quieter now, almost distant. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well…” Jeewon hesitated, suddenly feeling like she was being tested. “We were ambushed by Sentinels. Dragon shielded me and then neutralized the rest of them.”

Dandelion’s expression grew icy. “Neutralized them? Or destroyed them?”

Jeewon frowned slightly at the question but answered honestly. “He destroyed them. It was intense, but he kept us safe.”

Draigo’s gaze hardened, and Evelyn turned her attention elsewhere, her interest in the conversation clearly fading. “I see,” Draigo said curtly. “How very… impressive.”

The warmth they had shown her earlier had evaporated entirely. Jeewon shifted uncomfortably, sensing their growing disapproval but not understanding its cause.

“Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously.

Evelyn smiled thinly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Not at all, dear. It’s just… fascinating to see the kind of company Dragon keeps these days.”

Jeewon’s stomach twisted at the barely veiled insult. “Excuse me?”

Draigo Sr. cut in before she could say more. “You’ll have to forgive us. We’re just protective of our son. It’s clear you and your team have… significant influence on him.”

“We do our best to support him,” Jeewon said, her voice firm. “Dragon is an important part of this team. We’re like a family.”

“Family,” Evelyn repeated softly, her tone almost mocking. “Interesting choice of words.”

Dandelion glanced at her parents and then back at Jeewon, her expression unreadable. “It was nice meeting you,” she said abruptly before turning to walk away.

Draigo Sr. and Evelyn followed without another word, leaving Jeewon standing in the hallway, stunned and hurt.

Later that evening, Jeewon found Dragon sitting alone in the courtyard, his posture tense. She approached cautiously, still trying to process what had happened.

“Your family came to visit,” she said softly, sitting beside him.

Dragon’s face darkened. “I know. I saw them leave.”

Jeewon hesitated before continuing. “They seemed nice at first… but then, I don’t know. It was like they changed their minds about me.”

Dragon sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. They’re good at that. They’ll charm you until they see something they don’t like. Then they shut you out.”

Jeewon frowned. “They didn’t even give me a chance.”

“They don’t give anyone a chance,” Dragon said bitterly. “They don’t want to deal with anyone they see as… beneath them, but don't worry it's not personal”

Jeewon’s heart ached at the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry, Dragon.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, his voice softer now. “They’ve always been like this. And honestly? You got off easy. You should’ve seen what they were like when my powers first showed up.”

Jeewon placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. You deserve better.”

Dragon glanced at her, his eyes filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Jeewon. That means a lot.”

Jeewon grew saddened when she watched Dragon just shrug it off. She thought about all of the times he was the one to act but was also the conscience of the group.

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the encounter hanging between them but drawing them closer together in its wake.

Dragon stared out at the courtyard, the tension in his body visible in the rigid way he sat. The silence between him and Jeewon stretched, but she didn’t press him. Instead, she waited, offering him the space to speak if he wanted to.

Finally, he exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping as if letting go of a heavy weight. “You know,” he began quietly, “it’s not the first time they’ve looked at me like that.”

Jeewon tilted her head, her expression soft and encouraging. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, before deciding to continue. “When my powers first manifested, I was thirteen. I was at school, just a normal day—at least it started that way. There was this kid, Marcus. He’d been giving me grief for weeks, trying to get under my skin. I ignored him, you know? Kept my head down. I didn’t want any trouble.”

Jeewon nodded silently, her heart already aching for the younger version of him.

“But that day…” Dragon’s voice grew rougher, tinged with bitterness. “He shoved me into a locker, called me some names, said stuff about my family. I told him to back off, but he just laughed and threw the first punch. Hit me square in the face.” He touched his cheek as if the memory still stung.

“What happened next?” Jeewon asked softly.

Dragon’s eyes darkened. “I snapped. I didn’t even realize it at first, but the next thing I knew, there was this… wave of energy bursting out of me. It threw Marcus across the hallway. The lockers buckled, the lights exploded, and everyone started screaming. I didn’t even touch him, but they all looked at me like I was some kind of monster.”

Jeewon’s breath hitched. She could picture the chaos, the fear in the eyes of classmates who couldn’t understand what had just happened.

“The teachers freaked out, of course,” Dragon continued, his voice growing bitter. “They called my parents to come pick me up. And when they got there… I thought they’d at least hear me out, you know? I told them I didn’t start the fight. I told them Marcus hit me first.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “But they didn’t care. My dad barely even looked at me. All he cared about was the mess I’d made and how it would make the family look. ‘Losing control,’ he called it. ‘Embarrassing us.’”

Jeewon frowned, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “That’s not fair. You were just defending yourself.”

“Fair?” Dragon scoffed. “Fair doesn’t matter to them. All they cared about was that I’d made a scene. That I’d shown them something ugly.”

He paused, the next words seeming to weigh heavily on him. “When we got home, my dad sat me down for one of his ‘talks.’” Dragon’s voice dropped, imitating the cold, clipped tone of his father. “‘If you’re going to act like a monster, then you might as well embrace it. From now on, you’re not DJ. You’re Dragon.’”

Jeewon’s eyes widened. “He called you that?”

Dragon nodded, his jaw clenched. “It was supposed to be a reminder. A warning. That’s where the name comes from. It’s not something I chose—it’s something he gave me, to make sure I never forgot what he saw when he looked at me.”

Jeewon felt her chest tighten, a mixture of anger and sorrow swirling inside her. She could see it now—the weight Dragon carried, the anger he kept buried beneath his reserved demeanor. It wasn’t just about the fight, or even the way his family had treated him today. It was years of being told he wasn’t good enough, that he was dangerous, that he had to suppress who he was.

“That’s why you’re so hard on yourself,” she said softly, the realization hitting her like a punch. “Because they made you feel like you had to be.”

Dragon glanced at her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and vulnerability. “Maybe. Or maybe I just learned that keeping it all in is the only way to keep from proving them right.”

Jeewon placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle but firm. “You’re not a monster, Dragon. You never were. And you don’t have to carry their words with you. You’re more than that.”

For a moment, Dragon looked at her, his defenses cracking ever so slightly. He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, as if unsure how to accept her kindness. Instead, he looked away, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks, Jeewon,” he said quietly.

They sat in silence again, but it was different this time—warmer, more connected. Jeewon made a silent vow to herself: she would find a way to help Dragon see the good in himself, no matter how long it took. Because beneath the pain and the anger, she could see the person he truly was—and he deserved to see that too.

The Flight and Conversation A few weeks later, Jeewon and Dragon were getting ready in the hanger as they prepared for their second mission Dragon and Jeewon stood outside the hangar, the morning sun casting a soft golden glow over the jet waiting on the runway. The air hummed with anticipation, but for once, neither of them seemed to notice. Dragon was leaning against the hangar wall, arms crossed, while Jeewon stood in front of him, absently adjusting the straps of her gear.

“So, what’s the plan once we land?” Jeewon asked, her tone professional but tinged with curiosity.

Dragon smirked faintly. “You’re not worried about the plan. You’ve read the briefing twice. You’re worried about everything else.”

Jeewon blinked, startled by how easily he saw through her. “That obvious?”

“Only to me,” Dragon replied, his voice softening. “You don’t have to worry, you know. You’re good at this—better than most of us.”

She smiled at his reassurance, but before she could respond, Dragon stepped closer. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to do,” he said, his voice low and uncharacteristically hesitant.

“What is it?” she asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

Dragon didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers mid-sentence. Jeewon froze, her mind blanking as she registered the sudden, unexpected kiss. It was brief, almost cautious, as if Dragon was testing the waters.

When he pulled back, her wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Dragon looked as though he might regret the impulsive move, but before he could speak, Jeewon found her voice.

“What was that for?” she asked, her tone caught between incredulity and a quiet warmth.

Dragon scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening. “I… don’t know. Felt right?”

Jeewon didn’t respond immediately, but her racing heart and the lingering tingle on her lips gave her answer. She managed a small smile, her voice softer now. “Okay. But next time, maybe warn me first?”

“Deal,” Dragon said, his lips twitching upward in a crooked grin.

Despite her calm exterior, Jeewon’s mind was spinning. She didn’t know exactly what this meant, but a part of her—a big part—didn’t mind finding out. As they boarded the jet Jeewon felt mixed feelings about her and Dragon's relationship.

Jeewon and Dragon were aboard a jet with Magik and Forge, heading to their latest mission. Dragon and Forge sat together, engaged in a lively discussion about flight mechanics and aerodynamics.

“So the lift is all about pressure differentials?” Dragon asked, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Forge nodded. “Exactly. High pressure under the wing, low pressure above it—it’s the principle of Bernoulli’s equation. Combine that with thrust, and you’re defying gravity.”

Dragon chuckled. “Defying gravity? Sounds like magic with extra steps.”

“Science is just magic we understand,” Forge replied with a grin.

Magik, sitting across the aisle with Jeewon, smirked and gestured toward the pair. “Look at our two nerds,” she said.

Jeewon blinked, surprised. “Is it that obvious?”

Magik laughed. “Yes. The longing glances, the way you always defend him from the other students… It’s painfully obvious.”

Jeewon looked down, her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Everyone notices,” Magik said, her tone teasing but kind. “But it’s cute. You should tell him how you feel.”

Jeewon hesitated, biting her lip. “What if it ruins things? What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Magik shrugged. “You’ve seen how similar he and Forge are. I had to spell it out for the big dummy,” she said, nudging Forge with her boot. “Trust me—it’s worth it. Better to know than to keep wondering.”

Jeewon nodded slowly, Magik’s words sinking in. Maybe it was time to say something.

The jet touched down on the outskirts of the city, and the team quickly moved to assist the Avengers. MODOK’s AIM forces had set up an attack zone, their tech wreaking havoc in the streets. As the quartet advanced through the chaos, Dragon was the first to notice something unusual.

“Uh… is that a shark?” he asked, pointing to a small, waddling creature heading toward them.

The others stopped in their tracks, turning to see the unmistakable figure of Jeff the Landshark—a shark with legs, wagging its tail like a happy puppy.

“What the hell is that?” Forge muttered, his engineering brain clearly struggling to process what he was seeing.

“It’s Jeff,” Magik said casually, as if it explained everything.

“Jeff?” Jeewon repeated, confused but intrigued.

Before anyone could stop him, Dragon crouched down and extended a hand toward Jeff. The landshark sniffed at him for a moment before enthusiastically jumping up and licking his face.

Dragon laughed, caught off guard but delighted. “Well, aren’t you friendly?”

Jeff responded with a happy bark, nuzzling against him.

Magik rolled her eyes but smiled. “Congratulations, Dragon. You’ve made a new best friend.”

Jeewon crouched beside him, reaching out to pet Jeff, who wagged his tail even harder. “He’s adorable,” she said, grinning.

Forge finally joined them, his initial confusion giving way to amusement. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That’s kind of awesome.”

“Jeff’s got good taste,” Magik added, smirking. “Only the best people get the Jeff seal of approval.”

As if on cue, Jeff barked again and turned to waddle away. He stopped a few feet ahead, looking back at them and wagging his tail.

“Uh, is he trying to tell us something?” Jeewon asked, standing up.

“Looks like he wants us to follow him,” Dragon said, already moving to do just that.

Magik shrugged. “It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve seen today.”

Jeff led the team through the chaos with surprising agility, weaving between overturned cars and debris as if he had done this a hundred times before. Despite his small size and stubby legs, he was quick, forcing the group to jog to keep up.

“Why do I feel like we’re in a cartoon right now?” Forge muttered, jumping over a piece of smoldering wreckage.

Dragon chuckled. “If this ends with him leading us to MODOK’s secret lair, I’m naming him our unofficial team mascot.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Magik warned, her tone amused.

As they followed Jeff, the sounds of battle grew louder—explosions, shouted commands, and the unmistakable hum of repulsor blasts.

“He’s leading us straight to the action,” Jeewon said, her heart pounding.

“Good,” Dragon replied, his tone sharpening. “That’s where we need to be.”

A few moments later, Jeff skidded to a stop at the edge of a plaza, barking excitedly. The team caught up, ducking behind cover as they surveyed the scene.

In the middle of the plaza, the Avengers were locked in a fierce battle against MODOK and his AIM forces. Captain Marvel soared overhead, blasting drones out of the sky with precision energy strikes. Thor’s hammer crackled with lightning as he smashed through a group of AIM soldiers. Meanwhile, Iron Man and Black Panther worked in tandem, taking out a series of heavily armored mechs.

MODOK floated above it all, his massive, grotesque head encased in a golden exoskeleton. His voice boomed through the plaza, issuing commands to his troops.

“Crush them! The world will bow to my superior intellect!”

“Guy really likes the sound of his own voice,” Forge muttered.

Jeff barked again, drawing the Avengers’ attention. Captain Marvel glanced over and grinned when she saw him.

“Well, look who it is,” she said, blasting another drone before landing near the team. “Jeff brought friends!”

“Good to see you, Captain,” Magik said with a nod.

“About time you showed up,” Captain Marvel replied, her tone teasing but grateful. She gestured toward MODOK. “Think you can help us shut him up?”

“With pleasure,” Dragon said, stepping forward.

Jeff barked one last time before nuzzling against Jeewon’s leg, earning a soft laugh from her. “Looks like he’s cheering us on,” she said.

“Then we’d better not let him down,” Magik said, summoning her Soulsword.

The team moved into action, each member bringing their unique skills to the fray. Jeff the Landshark wagged his tail furiously on the sidelines, as if cheering them on. Dragon leaped into the fight alongside Magik and T’Challa, his movements deliberate and sharp yet undeniably flashy.

T’Challa, recognizing the younger man, smirked mid-strike. “Ah, so your aunt finally let you spread your wings?” he quipped, sidestepping a psionic blast from one of MODOK’s drones.

Dragon grinned, rolling under another blast and countering with a Destructo-kinesis burst, shattering a mech’s cannon arm. “Yup. Guess she got tired of me wrecking her training grounds.”

Magik snorted. “It’s about time.”

As they fought, Dragon’s eyes locked onto T’Challa’s movements. The Black Panther’s combat style was efficient and calculated, every movement optimized for maximum impact. Dragon studied how T’Challa’s vibranium suit absorbed blows and channeled kinetic energy, noting the subtle shifts in his stance and timing.

When T’Challa used an explosive kinetic release to disable a mech, Dragon’s eyes lit up. He adjusted his approach, charging his Destructo-kinesis energy into his fists. The next mech he targeted erupted in a controlled detonation, its sensors and weapons fried.

“You’re learning quickly,” T’Challa remarked, evading a soldier’s strike with grace.

Dragon nodded, leaping into the air and twisting mid-flight to deliver an energized kick. “I learn best by doing.”

Blending Styles and Powers

As the fight progressed, Dragon’s movements became increasingly fluid, a seamless blend of styles. He incorporated T’Challa’s efficiency, Magik’s mystic-infused precision, and his own instinctual, high-energy combat. Yet, what made him stand out was his use of Destructo-kinesis.

With a flash of his hands, Dragon summoned orbs of crackling energy and hurled them at incoming drones. The orbs detonated on impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The energy didn’t just destroy—it disrupted electronics, leaving AIM mechs and soldiers scrambling.

One mech managed to pin Magik with a hydraulic claw, but Dragon acted swiftly. He formed a thin, glowing blade of Destructo-kinesis energy, slashing through the mech’s arm with precision before finishing it off with a detonation.

“Thanks,” Magik said, teleporting behind another soldier to cut them down.

“No problem. You keep teaching me those mystic tricks, and I’ll keep saving your butt,” Dragon replied, smirking.

Magik rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin.

As the battle raged, T’Challa performed a ritual gesture to invoke Bast’s powers, unleashing a wave of energy that disoriented MODOK’s forces. Dragon, watching from the corner of his eye, mimicked the gesture.

“Wait, what is he doing?” Magik asked, glancing at T’Challa.

“I’m not sure,” T’Challa replied, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Instead of channeling Bast, Dragon’s aura shifted. A spectral dragon—massive, fearsome, and radiating otherworldly power—materialized behind him, its glowing eyes locking onto MODOK’s forces.

“Did he just… channel Fin Fang Foom?” Magik said, stunned but unable to suppress a grin.

Dragon, his voice filled with awe and confidence, called out, “Let’s see how you like a little dragonfire!”

The spectral dragon roared, unleashing a torrent of green energy that tore through MODOK’s forces. At the same time, Dragon used his Destructo-kinesis to enhance his strikes, creating controlled explosions that dismantled mechs and soldiers alike. His energy blades glowed brighter, cutting through AIM machinery like butter, and his explosive projectiles created chaos among the enemy ranks.

MODOK floated higher, his face twisting into rage. “You think a mere dragon can best the superior intellect of MODOK?!”

Dragon smirked, his hands crackling with energy. “Let’s find out!”

As MODOK directed his remaining forces to focus on the spectral dragon, Dragon seized the opportunity. Moving with precision and flair, he combined T’Challa’s efficient strikes, Magik’s mystic techniques, and his Destructo-kinesis to devastating effect. His attacks were flashy yet calculated, echoing the dramatic flair of a Power Ranger.

When a particularly large mech charged at him, Dragon leapt into the air, channeling his energy into a spiraling kick that detonated on impact. The mech exploded, pieces scattering across the battlefield.

During a brief lull in the chaos, T’Challa and Magik exchanged a glance.

“He’s quite the versatile fighter,” T’Challa remarked, blocking a strike with ease.

Magik, teleporting to Dragon’s side, nodded. “He’s not just versatile—he’s getting scary good.”

As if to prove her point, Dragon formed an orb of energy, tossing it into a cluster of AIM drones. The orb expanded mid-air before detonating, sending a shockwave that disabled the entire group.

When the battle finally subsided, the spectral dragon faded, leaving MODOK’s forces in ruins. Dragon stood at the center of the destruction, breathing heavily but grinning.

Magik clapped him on the shoulder. “Not bad, rookie.”

T’Challa nodded in approval. “Your aunt would be proud.”

Dragon chuckled, dispersing the residual energy in his hands. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Nearby, Jeff barked his approval, bounding toward Dragon and wagging his tail furiously.

As the battle wound down, the team turned their attention to clearing debris and helping civilians. Jeff the Landshark cheerfully weaved between the group, oblivious to the tension building within Dragon as his gaze darted across the battlefield. He tensed suddenly, his shoulders stiffening.

“Where are Jeewon and Forge?” he asked Magik, his tone sharp.

Magik’s brow furrowed as she scanned the field. “They were with us a moment ago—”

“Let me go, you tin-headed freaks!” Forge’s voice carried across the battlefield, followed by the sound of sparking energy.

Dragon’s heart sank as he turned toward the noise. He felt a surge of adrenaline when he heard Jeewon’s voice next.

“You’re really going to try this after the beating we just gave you?” she called out, dodging an AIM agent’s grasp and delivering a solid kick to his side.

Dragon’s vision narrowed as he saw more agents closing in on her. Then she shouted his name, her voice edged with fear.

Flashback: Beast and Wolverine’s Training

As Dragon’s body began to hum with latent energy, a memory surfaced—Beast and Wolverine standing in Xavier’s underground Danger Room, both wearing expressions of tempered concern.

“Your mutation is more intricate than we initially thought,” Beast had said, adjusting his glasses. “Your Destructo-kinesis powers are only the tip of the iceberg. It seems your abilities have evolved secondary and tertiary manifestations.”

Dragon tilted his head, puzzled. “What does that mean exactly?”

Wolverine crossed his arms, his gruff voice cutting in. “Means you’ve got more than one trick up your sleeve, kid. But those new tricks ain’t easy to control.”

Beast elaborated. “Your secondary ability is a berserker rage, similar to Logan’s. It’s tied to your emotional state—particularly when you perceive someone you care about is in danger.”

Dragon looked at Wolverine. “So, what, I just go crazy and start slashing?”

Wolverine smirked. “Something like that. But you’ve got finesse in there too, if you learn to rein it in.”

Beast cleared his throat. “As for your tertiary ability, it appears you can form energy constructs—highly complex ones. We’ll need to test your limits on that front.”

The session that followed was grueling. Wolverine deliberately triggered Dragon’s rage by taunting him while Beast observed from a safe distance. Every time the berserker state took over, Dragon’s powers would spike uncontrollably, creating massive waves of destruction.

But it wasn’t until Wolverine brought up Jeewon—offhandedly calling her Dragon’s “weak spot”—that the berserker transformation became dangerously potent. Dragon’s aura flared, his energy forming jagged constructs that lashed out unpredictably.

“Whoa, easy there, bub,” Wolverine said, backing off as Dragon’s rage surged.

Beast adjusted his glasses again. “It seems your attachment to Jeewon is a significant trigger. We’ll have to tread carefully there.”

Back on the battlefield, Dragon’s muscles tightened as the memory faded. His eyes darkened, taking on a molten glow, and his fists crackled with barely-contained energy. The ground trembled beneath him as his power surged.

“Dragon?” Magik asked, alarmed.

But he didn’t respond. His eyes locked on the AIM agents swarming Jeewon, and his body moved instinctively. His hand shot out, summoning his Soulspear—an ethereal weapon glowing with a mix of his Destructo-kinesis and mystical energy.

With a primal roar, he leapt into the air, slashing down at the agents surrounding Jeewon. Each strike was ferocious yet precise, cutting through their ranks with ease.

Magik watched, both amazed and terrified. “He’s never summoned that before,” she murmured.

Dragon’s movements were faster, more fluid than ever. His rage-fueled power made it difficult for anyone to approach. As he fought, he began singing—God of Fire by Fit For a King—his voice resonating with raw intensity.

When Modok, still recovering from his losses, saw an opportunity to strike, he aimed a psionic blast directly at Jeewon.

Dragon noticed before anyone else. His fury intensified, and he shouted words he had heard Doctor Strange use in a battle months prior.

“Spear of Cú Chulainn, Gáe Bolg!”

His Soulspear flew from his hands, splitting into a thousand shards of mystical and destructive energy. They barreled toward Modok, each fragment homing in with unerring precision.

Modok raised a psionic shield in desperation, deflecting most of the shards, but one pierced through, embedding itself into his rib.

“You dare attack my treasure?” Dragon snarled, his voice trembling with fury.

Modok tried to teleport away, but Dragon extended his hand, draining the kinetic energy from the device. Modok, now wounded and cornered, created another shield, but it was no match for the Soulspear, which returned to Dragon’s grasp.

Dragon’s rage consumed him. His aura flared, and he began advancing toward Modok. “You will die for your transgressions. Your bloodline will weep as I cull them,” he growled in Korean, his tone dark and venomous.

Jeewon’s heart raced as she stepped forward, placing herself between Dragon and Modok.

“Stop,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite her fear.

Dragon’s glowing eyes met hers. For a moment, the rage seemed to waver.

“You’re scaring me,” Jeewon said softly, her gaze locked with his.

Her words pierced through the haze. Dragon’s breathing slowed, his fists unclenching as the Soulspear dissipated into thin air. His aura dimmed, and the molten glow in his eyes faded.

“I’m… sorry,” Dragon said, his voice hoarse.

Jeewon smiled gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “It’s okay. I know you were just trying to protect me.”

Behind them, Modok, clutching his wound, activated a hidden escape pod and fled the battlefield. For now, the fight was over, but the aftermath of Dragon’s unleashed rage left an undeniable tension in the air.

The Quinjet hummed steadily as it soared through the sky, leaving the remnants of the battlefield far behind. The team sat in tense silence, the adrenaline of the fight slowly giving way to exhaustion. Forge tinkered with his cybernetic arm, muttering something about needing to upgrade it after AIM’s advanced tech had given him trouble. Jeewon sat beside him, her hands folded in her lap, casting worried glances toward Dragon.

Dragon sat alone near the rear of the Quinjet, staring out the window. His body language was tense, his fists clenching and unclenching as he replayed the fight in his mind. The Soulspear, the rage, the look on Jeewon’s face when she told him to stop—it all swirled in his thoughts, heavy and oppressive.

Magik, sitting nearby, watched him with her usual stoic expression, though her blue eyes softened slightly. She rose from her seat and walked over, sitting across from him.

“You look like you’re chewing on something heavy,” she said, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

Dragon didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I lost control.”

Magik tilted her head slightly. “You didn’t lose control. You took it back. And that’s what matters.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not how it felt. I didn’t even know I could do half of that stuff—the Soulspear, the Gáe Bolg thing, draining Modok’s teleport. And then… the rage.” He finally turned to her, his expression pained. “I scared her, Magik. I scared Jeewon.”

Magik was quiet for a moment, letting his words settle. “I won’t sugarcoat it. What happened was dangerous. To you, to the team, to her. But that’s why we’re having this conversation now—so it doesn’t happen again.”

Dragon leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know where to start. This berserker thing—it’s like everything else disappears, and all I can think about is protecting her. It’s like nothing else matters.”

Magik’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Logan and I have seen this kind of thing before. You’re not the first mutant to develop abilities tied to strong emotions. The berserker rage is part of who you are now, Dragon, but it doesn’t have to define you. Control is possible—but only if you’re willing to face what drives it.”

He looked at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

She sat back, crossing her arms. “The rage comes from somewhere. It’s not just about Jeewon. It’s deeper than that—something primal. Protecting her is the trigger, sure, but the source? That’s something you’ll have to figure out. And when you do, you’ll have the power to channel it instead of letting it channel you.”

Dragon shook his head. “That’s easier said than done. What if I can’t control it? What if next time, I hurt her—or someone else?”

Magik’s expression softened. “You’ve already taken the first step. You stopped yourself, Dragon. That wasn’t me or Jeewon. That was you. And that means you can do it again.”

Her words hung in the air, a quiet reassurance he didn’t know he needed. He turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him. “You ever feel like this? Like there’s something inside you that you’re scared to let out?”

Magik’s eyes darkened briefly, shadows flickering across her face. “Every day,” she admitted, her voice low. “But I’ve learned that fear can either control you, or you can control it. You’re stronger than you think, Dragon. And you’re not alone in this.”

Dragon met her gaze, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. “Thanks, Magik.”

She smirked faintly. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not done making you work for it. When we get back, you and I are hitting the Danger Room. If you’re going to have a Soulspear and a berserker rage, you’re damn well going to learn how to use them without losing yourself.”

Dragon chuckled despite himself. “You don’t go easy on anyone, do you?”

“Not a chance,” she said, standing and patting his shoulder. “And one more thing—you might want to talk to Jeewon. Whatever happened out there, she’s not afraid of you. She’s afraid for you.”

As Magik walked back to her seat, Dragon leaned his head against the window, her words echoing in his mind. He glanced toward Jeewon, who caught his eye and gave him a small, encouraging smile.

For the first time since the fight, the knot in his chest loosened just a little.

The Quinjet landed back at the X-Mansion under a canopy of stars. The team disembarked quietly, the weight of the day’s events still heavy in the air. While Forge and Magik headed toward the War Room to debrief, Jeewon lingered near the jet, glancing at Dragon as he hesitated on the ramp.

She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Dragon.”

He looked up, startled, but then his expression softened. “Hey.”

Jeewon motioned toward a bench near the hangar’s edge. “Walk with me?”

Dragon nodded, and the two strolled in silence for a moment, the cool night air helping ease the tension. They reached the bench, and Jeewon sat down, patting the spot beside her.

“You’ve been quiet since the fight,” she said, watching him carefully.

Dragon hesitated, then sat, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. “Yeah. I’ve been… thinking.”

“About what?”

“About what happened out there.” He looked down, his voice low. “About how I lost control.”

Jeewon tilted her head. “You didn’t lose control, Dragon. You protected us.”

He shook his head. “No. That wasn’t me protecting anyone. That was rage. Pure, blinding rage. I didn’t care about anything else. If you hadn’t stopped me… I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

Jeewon’s expression softened. She reached out, gently placing her hand over his. “Dragon, listen to me. I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid for you. That’s why I stepped in.”

He looked up at her, his eyes searching hers. “You weren’t… scared?”

“Not for a second,” she said firmly. “I know you, Dragon. I know your heart. You’d never hurt me. Not intentionally.”

“But what if I can’t control it next time?” he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. “What if I hurt you—or someone else?”

Jeewon gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Then we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this. You have me, Magik, Forge, everyone. And I trust you. I trust that you’ll find a way to master this.”

Dragon’s gaze dropped to their hands, her faith in him almost overwhelming. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered.

Jeewon smiled faintly. “You don’t get to decide that. I’m here because I want to be.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the night wrapping around them like a cocoon. Finally, Dragon exhaled deeply. “During the fight, when Modok attacked you… something snapped. It was like everything inside me just… erupted. All I could think about was keeping you safe. Nothing else mattered.”

Jeewon’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she held his gaze. “You care about me. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I care about you so much it scares me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s not just as a teammate or a friend. It’s… more than that.”

Jeewon’s breath caught, her heart racing at his words. She felt the same, but hearing him say it out loud made it all the more real.

“I know,” she said softly. “I’ve known for a while.”

Dragon blinked, surprised. “You have?”

She nodded. “And for the record, I care about you too. Probably more than I should.”

His lips parted in shock, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Well, that makes me feel a little less like an idiot.”

Jeewon laughed, the sound light and melodic. “You’re not an idiot, Dragon. You’re just… you. And that’s enough.”

He looked at her, the weight in his chest lifting. “Thank you, Jeewon. For everything.”

She smiled, her eyes warm. “Always.”

As they sat together under the stars, the world seemed a little less heavy, and for the first time since the fight, Dragon felt like things might actually be okay.

The moonlight bathed the X-Mansion’s gardens in a soft, silvery glow, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed hedges. Dragon sat on the edge of a stone fountain, staring into the rippling water. His reflection wavered, distorted like his thoughts.

“You’ve been brooding out here for a while,” a familiar voice called out.

Dragon turned to see Storm standing a few feet away, her white hair catching the moonlight like a halo. Her expression was soft, though her sharp eyes seemed to see right through him.

“Hey, Auntie,” Dragon muttered, turning back to the water.

She walked over, her presence commanding yet comforting, and sat beside him on the edge of the fountain. “I thought I’d find you here. This garden always did seem to draw you in when something was on your mind.”

Dragon chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’m predictable, huh?”

She gave him a small smile. “Not predictable, just familiar. Tell me what’s troubling you, nephew.”

He hesitated, staring down at his hands. “It’s… everything. Today was a mess. I lost control again, Auntie. Jeewon could’ve gotten hurt, or worse, and it would’ve been my fault.”

Storm studied him for a moment, her gaze steady but kind. “I spoke with Hank and Logan earlier. They told me about what’s happening with your powers—the berserker state, the constructs, how it’s all evolving.”

Dragon tensed, his shoulders hunching. “Yeah, evolving. More like spiraling out of control.”

Ororo placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “It’s not uncommon for mutations to develop new facets over time. Do you think I always had complete mastery of my powers? When I was younger, the weather bent to my emotions. A moment of fear, anger, or despair could summon a hurricane or a drought. It took years of training and patience to learn control.”

Dragon looked at her, surprised. “You? But you’re Storm. You’ve always been the perfect X-Man.”

Her soft laugh carried no bitterness. “Far from perfect, my dear. It’s easy to see someone at the height of their mastery and forget the struggles it took to get there. What you’re going through is not a failure, Dragon—it’s a transition. And transitions are always difficult.”

He frowned, his voice tinged with frustration. “But what if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone next time?”

Ororo’s expression turned serious, though her tone remained gentle. “That is a question we all face, Dragon. Logan has struggled with it for decades. Even I still wrestle with it in moments of great strain. But the fact that you are asking these questions, that you care enough to fear that outcome, means you’re already on the right path.”

Dragon sighed, staring into the water again. “It’s just… scary. When the berserker thing kicks in, it’s like I’m not even me anymore. It’s like someone else is driving, and I’m just… watching.”

Storm nodded, her gaze distant for a moment as if recalling her own struggles. “I know that fear. But today, you came back. It was Jeewon who reached you, yes, but ultimately, it was your choice to listen. That shows strength, Dragon. Strength that many would struggle to find.”

He let her words sink in, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Beast and Logan have been helping me figure it out. They’ve been great, but it’s still… a lot. Sometimes I feel like I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“Stop that,” Ororo said firmly, her voice like thunder rolling in the distance. “You are worth far more than you realize, nephew. You are strong, compassionate, and brave. Do not let moments of doubt erase everything you have accomplished.”

Dragon looked down, guilt flickering in his expression. “I just don’t want to let you down. Or anyone else.”

She reached out, cupping his face and forcing him to meet her eyes. “You could never let me down, Dragon. Do you hear me? Never. I am proud of you, not because of your powers or your victories, but because of who you are. You are my family, my blood, and I see so much potential in you. The same potential your mother saw.”

The mention of his mother made his chest tighten, but it also brought a flicker of warmth. “You think Mom would’ve been proud of me?”

Ororo’s smile softened, and she brushed a hand over his hair. “I know she would. She was a warrior in her own right, and she would see the same fire in you that I do.”

Dragon swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion. “Thanks, Auntie. That… means a lot.”

She stood, her regal posture as unshakable as ever, and extended a hand to him. “Come. It’s late, and you need rest. Tomorrow is another day, and another chance to grow stronger.”

He took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. “You’re really good at this whole pep talk thing, you know?”

She laughed lightly, looping an arm around his shoulders. “It comes with experience. And remember, nephew—you are never alone in this. We are your family, and we will face these challenges together.”

As they walked back toward the mansion, the heaviness in Dragon’s chest began to lift. The path ahead still seemed daunting, but with Ororo’s unwavering faith in him, he felt like he could take the first step forward.

A few more weeks pass and the world moves on. The air outside Xavier’s School felt charged, as though the sky itself was holding its breath. Students whispered nervously, gathering in clusters around the main courtyard. At the center of it all, Namor the Sub-Mariner stood in regal splendor, his Trident of Neptune glinting in the sunlight. Clad in his ceremonial Atlantean armor, he exuded an aura of power and confidence that demanded attention.

Jeewon stood beside Storm, her expression calm but her posture guarded. Dragon watched from a distance, his fists clenched at his sides. Something about Namor’s presence rubbed him the wrong way—his arrogance, his smooth words, the way his eyes lingered on Jeewon as though she were a prize.

Namor’s deep voice carried over the murmurs of the crowd. “Ororo, I come not only as king but as an emissary of Atlantis. My council advises that a union between surface and sea would strengthen our alliance.” His piercing gaze turned to Jeewon. “And I find myself captivated by this one.”

A hush fell over the courtyard.

Jeewon blinked in surprise, stepping back slightly. “I… appreciate the compliment, but—”

Namor interrupted, a small smile playing on his lips. “It is not just a compliment. It is a declaration. You, Jeewon, are worthy of standing beside a king. I offer you the honor of becoming my queen.”

Dragon’s stomach twisted into knots. His pulse quickened as anger bubbled beneath his skin, the kind of anger that felt like it didn’t belong to him, as though it came from something deeper.

“She’s not an object for you to claim,” Dragon found himself saying, his voice low but firm.

Namor raised an eyebrow, turning his attention to Dragon. “And who are you to speak in this matter, surface-dweller? A rival, perhaps?”

Dragon stepped forward, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I’m her teammate. And a friend.” His voice grew louder, more resolute. “And someone who won’t stand by while you treat her like a bargaining chip.”

Jeewon glanced at Dragon, her eyes wide, a mix of surprise and gratitude flickering across her face.

Namor smirked, stepping closer to Dragon. Despite being shorter, Namor’s presence was intimidating, his confidence unshakable. “You have fire, boy. But what can you offer her? A king offers power, stability, a throne.” His voice dripped with condescension. “What can you give her that I cannot?”

Dragon’s fury flared. He could feel the kinetic energy coursing through him, hot and volatile. “Respect,” he growled.

Without realizing it, the air around him began to shimmer with heat. A faint, fiery aura flickered to life, radiating off his body. The crowd gasped, stepping back.

Namor’s smirk faltered as he sensed the shift in Dragon’s energy. “Interesting,” he muttered, his tone now wary.

“Stop it, both of you!” Jeewon’s voice cut through the tension, commanding attention. She stepped between them, placing a hand on Dragon’s chest. The contact grounded him, pulling him back from the edge. The fiery aura faded, and the heat in the air dissipated.

“Dragon,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “Thank you. But I can handle this.”

Dragon nodded, his breathing heavy. He took a step back, his eyes still locked on Namor.

Jeewon turned to Namor, her expression firm. “Your offer is flattering, but I’m not interested. My place is here, with my team.” Her voice was steady, leaving no room for argument.

Namor studied her for a moment before inclining his head. “Very well. I respect your decision.” He cast one last glance at Dragon, his expression unreadable, before turning to leave.

As the crowd began to disperse, Jeewon turned back to Dragon. Her hand lingered on his arm for a moment longer than necessary. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft but filled with warmth.

“I did,” Dragon replied, his voice quieter now. “I couldn’t just stand there.”

She smiled, her gaze holding his. “Well, thank you. It means a lot.”

Dragon nodded, feeling his heartbeat start to settle. As Jeewon walked back toward the training center, he couldn’t help but watch her, realizing that his feelings for her ran far deeper than he’d been willing to admit.

And as he stood there, still buzzing with residual energy, he also realized something else: when it came to Jeewon, he would fight anyone—even a king. Reveal

The clang of soul weapons echoed through the training chamber Magic had Fashioned in Limbo as Dragon sparred with Magik. He blocked her strike with a kinetic shield, the energy rippling like molten light between them. Magik grinned, testing his reflexes with a feint before swinging her sword again.

“You’re getting better,” she said, her tone approving but playful. “Still too stiff, though. Loosen up, or you’ll end up eating my blade.”

“Maybe I like the challenge,” Dragon replied, managing a smirk despite the sweat dripping down his brow.

Magik pivoted smoothly and, with a flick of her wrist, sent Dragon sprawling to the ground. She stood over him, the flat of her sword pressed lightly against his chest.

“Challenge accepted,” she teased, offering him a hand to pull him up.

As Dragon dusted himself off, Magik sheathed her blade and leaned casually against the wall. Her sharp blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Speaking of challenges… I heard about your little showdown with Namor.”

Dragon froze mid-stretch, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. “Oh, come on. Who told you?”

“News travels fast when it involves nearly taking on the King of Atlantis,” she said, laughing. “Storm wasn’t thrilled, by the way. But me? I think it’s hilarious.”

Dragon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that. I just… I don’t even know what came over me. One second, he was acting all smug and possessive, and the next…”

Magik tilted her head, studying him. “The next, you were ready to rip his head off.”

Dragon frowned, his voice quieter now. “Yeah. And I don’t know why. I’ve never lost it like that before. It’s… embarrassing.”

Magik’s expression softened, a rare show of seriousness crossing her face. “Oh, Dragon. You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

She stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t the first time, you know. Remember when we were on the mission in Genosha, and that rogue sentinel came after Jeewon? You threw yourself in front of it without hesitation, even though you were already hurt.”

Dragon blinked, caught off guard. “That was… instinct. She needed help.”

“And then there was the Hydra raid last month,” Magik continued. “When that operative tried to drag her into the van, you nearly leveled the entire block trying to get her back.”

“That was different,” Dragon argued, though his voice wavered.

“Was it?” Magik asked, her tone gentle but firm. “You didn’t react that way when anyone else was in danger. Not even me, and I’m your mentor. But with Jeewon, it’s like a switch flips inside you. You can’t stand the thought of her being hurt or—” She paused, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “—or taken away from you.”

Dragon opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he looked down, his fists clenching at his sides.

Magik’s gaze softened further. “Dragon, it’s okay. You like her. And not just as a teammate or a friend. You care about her in a way you haven’t cared about anyone in a long time.”

Dragon let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re right. But it’s not just that. It’s this… fear, you know? I’ve lost so much already—my family, my old life. And with Jeewon…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

“You don’t want to lose her, too,” Magik finished for him.

Dragon nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

Magik stepped back, crossing her arms as a sly grin returned to her face. “Well, you’ve got two choices, Godzilla. You can keep bottling this up until it explodes, or you can tell her how you feel before someone else does.”

Dragon hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Magik snorted. “Please. Have you seen the way she looks at you? She’s not as subtle as she thinks she is.”

She gestured toward the door. “Now, get out of here. Go talk to her before I drag you to her myself.”

Dragon chuckled nervously but nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Magik.”

“Anytime, kid,” she said, watching him leave with a knowing smile.

Later, outside the training center

Jeewon was sitting on a bench, tying her shoes for the next session when Dragon approached, his heart pounding in his chest. He stopped a few feet away, unsure how to begin.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly.

Jeewon looked up, her expression softening when she saw him. “Hey. Everything okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Dragon laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She set her shoes aside, giving him her full attention. “What’s on your mind?”

Dragon took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an idiot, so I’m just going to say it. Jeewon, I like you. A lot. More than I’ve liked anyone in a really long time.”

Jeewon’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t interrupt.

“You’re smart, and strong, and funny, and you make me feel like I’m not just some screw-up who can’t control his powers,” he continued. “I know we’re teammates, and I don’t want to make things weird, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

There was a long silence as Jeewon processed his words. Dragon’s heart sank, convinced he’d made a mistake.

But then, she smiled.

“Dragon,” she said softly, standing up and taking a step closer to him. “I’m glad you told me. Because… I’ve been feeling the same way.”

His eyes widened. “You have?”

She nodded, her smile turning shy. “I guess I didn’t realize it until recently, but… you’ve always been there for me. You make me laugh when I need it, and you remind me that it’s okay to lean on someone else. You’re not a screw-up, Dragon. You’re… amazing.”

Dragon felt a wave of relief and disbelief wash over him. “So, what now?”

Jeewon grinned, her confidence returning. “Well, how about we start with dinner? We’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

Dragon chuckled, his nerves finally fading. “That sounds perfect.”

As they walked toward the dining hall together, side by side, Dragon couldn’t help but feel like, for the first time in a long time, he had something—someone—worth fighting for.

The scarlet skies of Limbo churned as demonic creatures scurried away from the clearing where Dragon and Magik trained. The air buzzed with raw energy, charged with both Dragon’s destructive powers and Magik’s mystical command of the realm. Dragon stood, breathing heavily, his Soulspear shimmering faintly in his hand.

“You’re holding back,” Magik said sharply, circling him with her Soul Sword resting casually on her shoulder. Her tone was more mentor than friend now, carrying the edge of a teacher unwilling to let her pupil take the easy road.

“I’m not holding back,” Dragon replied, adjusting his grip on the spear. “I just… don’t want to wreck everything around us. Again.”

Magik smirked. “Wrecking things is part of the fun here, маленький дракон. Limbo will survive. I’m more concerned about you not tapping into the full potential of your Soulspear.” She raised her blade, its silver edge glowing in the dim light. “Again.”

Dragon grimaced but nodded. He charged, his spear gleaming with a mix of mystical energy and his innate Destructo-kinesis. He lunged, aiming for Magik, who easily deflected the strike with her sword. Their weapons clashed, sending sparks of energy into the air.

As they exchanged blows, Magik’s sharp gaze never left Dragon. She could feel the growth in his strength, the way his powers adapted with each clash. His Soulspear wasn’t just a weapon—it was an extension of himself, responding to his will, his emotions, his very essence.

After a particularly strong strike that forced Magik to teleport behind him, she called out, “Stop!”

Dragon froze mid-swing, his spear dissipating into thin air. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Magik lowered her sword and approached him, her piercing blue eyes narrowing. “No, but I think I’m starting to understand what’s happening with you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, brushing sweat from his brow.

Magik sheathed her Soul Sword and gestured to the empty space between them. “Your Soulspear—do you understand what it is?”

Dragon shrugged. “I mean, it’s like… a weapon, right? Made from my energy and powers?”

She tilted her head, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Yes, but it’s more than that. It’s a manifestation of your soul, Dragon. The same way my Soul Sword is tied to my essence as the ruler of Limbo, your Soulspear is tied to you. Your identity, your strength, your evolution.”

Dragon frowned, staring at his hand where the spear had just been. “So… it’s like a part of me?”

“Exactly,” Magik said, crossing her arms. “And because of that, it grows as you grow. But there’s something else.” She paused, as if weighing her next words carefully. “Your mutation—your powers—they’re evolving faster than they should be.”

“What?” Dragon looked at her in confusion. “Why would that be happening?”

Magik gestured to the chaotic landscape around them. “We’ve been training here in Limbo, a realm overflowing with mystical energy and raw chaos. Your powers aren’t just adapting to survive—they’re trying to keep up with me.”

Dragon blinked, stunned. “Wait, you think I’m getting stronger because of you?”

She gave him a rare, genuine smile. “You’re always pushing yourself harder, trying to close the gap between us. Even if you don’t realize it, your body and your powers do. They’re evolving because they have to, because Limbo doesn’t tolerate stagnation, and neither do I.”

Dragon rubbed the back of his neck, a mix of pride and unease bubbling up in him. “So… what does that mean for me? Is that dangerous?”

“It could be,” Magik admitted, her tone serious. “Pushing yourself too hard, too fast, can lead to instability. But it also means your potential is greater than you’ve been giving yourself credit for. Your Soulspear isn’t just a weapon—it’s a reflection of your power and your growth. The stronger you become, the stronger it will become.”

Dragon summoned the spear again, its energy crackling in his hand. He examined it closely, noticing faint etchings along its shaft—patterns he hadn’t seen before. “So… I’ve been evolving this whole time just by being here?”

Magik stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, and you’ve been doing it well. But you need to start owning that growth. Stop doubting yourself, Dragon. If you’re going to train with me, you can’t hold back. Not anymore.”

Dragon met her gaze, determination flaring in his eyes. “Alright, no more holding back.”

Magik’s smirk returned. “Good. Now pick up your spear, маленький дракон. We’ve got work to do.”

And with that, the training resumed, the clash of their weapons echoing through Limbo as Dragon pushed himself further, embracing the strength that had always been inside him.

The atmosphere in Limbo crackled with energy as Dragon and Magik squared off once more. This time, Dragon was different—he wasn’t holding back. The hesitation that had once clouded his movements was gone, replaced by a focused intensity. The Soulspear hummed in his hand, its form shifting fluidly as he adapted his fighting style to match the ebb and flow of their battle.

Magik stood across from him, Soul Sword raised in a defensive stance. Her eyes were sharp, watching every subtle change in Dragon’s technique. She had trained him for months, and now, she was witnessing something extraordinary: Dragon was no longer just a powerhouse; he was a strategist, using his growing understanding of his powers with increasing finesse.

Dragon’s spear transformed with a flash of energy, the blade twisting and reshaping itself into a jagged, spinning chainsaw. Magik’s eyes widened in approval as he charged toward her, the chainsaw’s roar filling the air. She parried his first swing, but his next strike was a flick of the wrist—quick, calculated, and precise. The chainsaw blade was replaced with a blunt end, sending her flying backward with the force of the hit.

“Not bad, маленький дракон,” Magik said, her voice laced with admiration, though she quickly recovered and teleported behind him.

Dragon didn’t hesitate, spinning around and thrusting his spear back into its usual form—a sharp, deadly point. But this time, instead of charging with brute force, he leveled the spear toward her, and a blast of energy shot from the end. The blast wasn’t just a raw force of destruction; it was targeted, controlled. Magik barely managed to teleport again to avoid it, and when she appeared beside him, she saw his spear shift again—this time, the spearhead morphed into a rifle-like barrel.

“You’re adapting,” she said, her voice filled with awe as she narrowly dodged another energy shot from the rifle form. “I didn’t think you could make it that versatile.”

Dragon grinned, the thrill of pushing his limits clear on his face. “Neither did I,” he admitted, as the rifle shifted back into its original form, the blade gleaming in the dim light. “Guess I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

Magik felt a pride swell in her chest. She had seen this kind of growth before—students who unlocked new heights of power—but this was different. Dragon wasn’t just learning to use his powers; he was mastering them in ways no one could have predicted.

Dragon shifted his stance again, his Soulspear reshaping yet again—this time into a broad, heavy hammer. He swung it toward her with a powerful arc, the momentum carrying with it the force of a small earthquake. Magik met the blow with a teleportation dodge, but she could feel the shockwave of energy ripple through Limbo’s landscape as he moved. His ability to adapt to different forms was becoming second nature.

“You’re getting too good at this,” Magik teased, ducking under a low swipe of the hammer and appearing behind him once more.

“I’m trying to catch up,” Dragon said, his eyes flashing with determination. With a twist of his wrist, his Soulspear turned into a massive bladed scythe. The new form gave him greater reach, and he used it to his advantage, sweeping the weapon in wide arcs to keep Magik at bay.

Magik watched him, her gaze unwavering as she parried each strike. He was fast, clever, and adaptable, and though his raw power still couldn’t match hers, she was starting to see just how far he’d come. His control over his Soulspear, the ability to shift its form on the fly, was a sign of true mastery. The finesse in his movements was something that even the most seasoned warriors sometimes lacked, and Dragon was weaving that finesse into his explosive power.

She couldn’t help but smile as she dodged another devastating blow from his scythe. “You’re really starting to impress me, маленький дракон.”

Dragon didn’t respond right away, his focus entirely on their fight. He shifted his Soulspear into a long, whip-like form and lashed out at her. The whip snapped through the air, crackling with power, but Magik blocked it effortlessly with her Soul Sword, which glowed brighter in response. Still, the whip didn’t retreat; it lashed again, faster this time, and Magik had to teleport repeatedly to avoid being caught.

Magik couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve been holding back for so long, and now you’re letting loose, huh?”

Dragon’s voice was breathless, but there was a hint of pride in it. “Feels good. It’s like… my powers are finally catching up to the way I want to use them.”

“That’s exactly it,” Magik said, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. “Your power isn’t just about brute force, Dragon. It’s about adaptability. And you’ve learned that faster than I thought you would. Your Soulspear—your mutation—it’s a tool, but it’s also a reflection of who you are. A reflection of your growth.”

Dragon’s smile was small but genuine. “Thanks, Magik. I’m still learning, but it feels good to finally feel like I’m not just playing catch-up.”

Magik lowered her sword, her expression softening with pride. “You’ve always been more capable than you realize. You just needed to believe it. I’m proud of you.”

Dragon stood tall, his Soulspear now fully transformed into a sleek, compact dagger, his hand relaxed around the hilt. “Thanks. I guess I’ve been pushing myself harder than I thought. But I’m getting there.”

Magik smiled and stepped forward, patting him on the back. “You’re not just getting there, Dragon. You’re surpassing your own expectations. Keep going.”

And for the first time in a long while, Dragon felt like he was truly mastering the power within him—no longer just relying on strength, but on the finesse and control that came from understanding his own limits and pushing past them. As they continued their training, it was clear that the bond between them, forged through countless battles and lessons, had only strengthened. And Dragon was ready for whatever came next.

Post-Training Conversation

The air in Limbo was thick with the aftereffects of their intense training session. Magik and Dragon stood amidst the ruined landscape, their breaths heavy but synchronized. The ground around them was scarred by the force of their battle, and the sky above them had shifted into a deeper shade of red as the sun began to set.

Magik wiped the sweat from her brow and looked over at Dragon, who was adjusting his Soulspear, now back in its normal form. There was a satisfaction in the way he moved, a confidence that hadn’t been there before. She’d seen him grow over the months they’d trained together, but today, he seemed like a different person. Stronger. Sharper.

Dragon glanced at her, sensing the shift in the air. He smiled faintly, his eyes reflecting a mix of pride and something else—something softer.

“I… I think I’m finally getting the hang of this,” Dragon said, his voice almost hesitant, but the confidence was undeniable.

Magik grinned and walked toward him, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve been holding back for too long. Now, you’re finally embracing your full potential. It’s amazing, Dragon. I’m really proud of you.”

Dragon’s smile widened, and for a moment, he looked like he was trying to find the right words. Then, with a deep breath, he looked her square in the eye.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Magik,” he said. “I… Jeewon and I, we’re in a relationship now.”

Magik raised an eyebrow, but the surprise in her expression quickly shifted to something warmer—a knowing smile.

“You two finally figured it out, huh?” she said, her tone teasing but filled with warmth. “I could tell there was something between you both from the start. It was only a matter of time before you admitted it.”

Dragon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, I guess we were both a little slow on the uptake. But after everything that’s happened—the battles, the training, the stuff we’ve both been through—it just felt right.”

Magik crossed her arms, her eyes softening as she looked at him. “You’ve come a long way, Dragon. I’m proud of you for more than just your fighting. You’ve grown as a person, too. And Jeewon… she’s a great girl. I’m glad you two found each other.”

Dragon’s expression softened, and there was a tenderness in his eyes that only those closest to him would notice. “She’s everything I needed, Magik. She grounds me in ways I didn’t know I needed. I’ve never felt this… at peace with someone before.”

Magik’s smile grew wider, and she uncrossed her arms to give him a light punch on the shoulder. “I think you’ve found a good match then. And from the way you’re talking, I’m pretty sure she feels the same.”

Dragon nodded, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Yeah. She’s… incredible. I just hope I can keep up with her.”

Magik’s gaze turned serious, her tone softening with the shift. “You don’t need to ‘keep up,’ Dragon. She’s with you because of who you are, not because you need to be anyone else. You’ve already proven that you’re more than enough.”

Dragon looked at her, a mix of gratitude and understanding in his eyes. “Thanks, Magik. It means a lot coming from you.”

Magik chuckled, clapping him on the back with a grin. “You better take care of her, though. She’ll turn you into a softie before you know it.” She winked at him playfully. “But I have no doubt you’ll do great. You’re stronger than you realize.”

Dragon smiled back, his heart light, and for the first time, he truly felt like everything was falling into place. With his powers, his training, and now Jeewon by his side, he knew there would be challenges ahead—but he was ready for them. He wasn’t alone anymore, and he had the confidence to face whatever the future held.

Magik’s smile faded into something more maternal as she turned to face him once more. “I’m proud of you, Dragon. Don’t ever forget how far you’ve come.”

“I won’t,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “And thank you, Magik. For everything.”

With that, they stood together in the silence of Limbo, the bonds of friendship and mentorship between them stronger than ever. Dragon’s journey was just beginning, but now, with Jeewon by his side and Magik’s support, he knew he was more than ready for what came next.

The evening was peaceful, the sunset painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Dragon and Jeewon sat together on a grassy hill, just outside the hustle and bustle of the city, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility after the chaos of the day. The distant sounds of nature filled the air, and Dragon couldn’t help but feel at ease with Jeewon by his side. They hadn’t had many moments like this lately, and it was comforting to feel her presence so close, without the threat of impending battle or their tumultuous past weighing heavily on them.

Jeewon leaned against him, a small smile on her face as they watched the sky change colors. “You know,” she began softly, her fingers tracing small circles on his arm, “this feels nice. Just us, no training, no fighting. It’s like we’re finally able to breathe again.”

Dragon sighed, his own smile mirroring hers. “Yeah, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this calm. It’s like everything’s falling into place for once.”

“Good,” she said, squeezing his arm gently. “You deserve this, Dragon.”

He leaned his head back against the soft grass, staring up at the sky. For a brief moment, he felt truly at peace—no battles, no expectations, just the quiet presence of someone he loved. But that peaceful moment was abruptly shattered when the sound of a loud crack echoed through the air, followed by a ripple in the atmosphere.

Dragon’s muscles tensed instantly, his senses heightened as he stood up. Jeewon, sensing his change in demeanor, stood quickly too, concern in her eyes.

“Dragon?” she asked, her voice quiet yet worried. “What’s happening?”

Before he could answer, a figure appeared on the horizon, walking slowly toward them. Dragon’s eyes narrowed, recognizing the familiar figure. His parents.

“Great,” Dragon muttered under his breath, stepping forward to face them. His parents, fierce and proud, stood there, their expressions unreadable. His mother, tall and elegant, and his father, more stoic, both exuded a kind of regal power. But their presence here, unannounced and unwelcome, signaled that something was about to go down.

“Dragon,” his mother spoke first, her voice cold but calm, “we need to have a word.”

Dragon crossed his arms, the annoyance in his posture evident. “What do you want?”

His father’s sharp gaze flicked toward Jeewon, noticing her presence. “And who is this?” he asked, his tone carrying an edge of disapproval.

Jeewon straightened up, standing firm beside Dragon. “I’m Jeewon,” she said, her voice steady. “And I’m here because I care about him. If you’ve come to start something, you’re wasting your time.”

Dragon’s father sneered slightly but didn’t address her further. Instead, he turned his focus back to Dragon. “You’ve been reckless, Dragon. Your outbursts, your uncontrolled power—this is unacceptable. You’re embarrassing our family.”

Dragon’s eyes darkened, the same familiar fury bubbling up inside him. “I’m not embarrassing anyone,” he retorted, his voice low but forceful. “I’m doing what needs to be done. What you never understood.”

His mother’s eyes glinted with a mix of disappointment and something darker. “Your power is a gift, Dragon. But if you continue down this path, we will be forced to put you in your place. You can’t just let your emotions control you.”

Dragon laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the quiet evening. “You think you can control me? You think you can tell me what to do anymore?” He shook his head. “I’m done with that. I’m not a child anymore.”

Jeewon’s hand gently rested on his arm, a calming presence that Dragon was grateful for. But as much as he appreciated her support, he knew this wasn’t something he could avoid. His family had always expected him to conform to their rules, and now they were trying to assert that control again.

His father narrowed his eyes. “You will listen, Dragon. Or else—”

But before he could finish, Dragon’s posture shifted again, the rage building within him. His parents, sensing the change, stepped back slightly, their expressions tightening. They knew what was coming. What they didn’t expect was for Dragon to do something completely unexpected.

Without a word, Dragon’s powers flared. His eyes glowed as he summoned his mystic energy, the air around him vibrating with the intensity of his emotions. But there was no wild outburst, no rampage like they had witnessed before. Instead, he controlled it—calmed it. His aura crackled as he raised his hand and pointed it at his parents.

“I’m done being your puppet,” Dragon said through clenched teeth, his voice laced with power. “You don’t control me anymore. Not with your threats, not with your expectations. I’ve learned from people who actually care about me, not from fear and manipulation.”

His mother opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. Dragon’s father made a gesture as if to forcefully read his mind—but instead, his face twisted in confusion. His telepathic probe didn’t penetrate Dragon’s mind.

“Why… why can’t we—?” His father began, his voice tense.

Magik’s training had worked wonders. Dragon’s powers had grown beyond just his physical strength and mystic skills. The psychic barriers he had built over time were now reinforced by his mastery of the mystic arts. His mental defenses, strengthened by his training with Magik, were now impenetrable. The telepathic abilities that once might have had control over him were useless.

Dragon smirked, feeling an unexpected sense of triumph. “Your tricks don’t work on me anymore,” he said, his voice carrying a new authority. “You should have figured that out by now.”

His mother’s eyes narrowed in frustration, her mouth twitching with anger. “This isn’t over, Dragon. You will be dealt with, one way or another.”

But Dragon didn’t flinch. “I’m not going back to the way things were. I’ve made my own path now. And Jeewon,” he glanced over at her with a small, appreciative smile, “she’s part of it. So if you want to get in my way, you’ll have to go through me first.”

His father opened his mouth to respond, but his mother held up a hand, signaling that it was time to leave. She wasn’t going to waste any more energy on a lost cause.

With one final glare, they turned and walked away, their retreating figures disappearing into the distance.

Jeewon let out a quiet breath, looking up at Dragon with admiration and something else—something deep and genuine. “You were amazing back there.”

Dragon looked down at her, his expression softening. “Thanks. But I’m just getting started. This is me now. No one’s putting me back in a box.”

They stood there for a moment, the sun sinking lower in the sky, before Dragon turned to Jeewon. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got better things to do than deal with them.”

Jeewon smiled, nodding. “Lead the way.”

And with that, they walked away together, leaving the past and the pressure of family expectations behind them, ready to face whatever the future held as equals.

#k-pop fanfic #cignature #Jeewon fanfic #Jeewon x reader #natty kiof #natty fanfic #Natty X fem reader #marvel fanfiction #xmen fanfiction

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thorongil82 · 3 months ago

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Hiccup Haddock and the Triwizard Tournament - Chapter 01

Summary: Hiccup, Merida, Jack and Rapunzel all arrive back at Hogwarts thinking that their 5th year would be just like any other for them; filled with trouble, mischief, and a need to study for their exams - and OWLs, this time around. However, this year, Hogwarts will instead be hosting the re-instated Triwizard Tournament. With the impending arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, who will be chosen as the school champions? What difference will having the tournament running throughout the year have on our heroes' education? What alterations to the format have the Ministry put into effect? Will there be love in the air? And how many snowball fights can Jack Frost get himself caught up in (see; instigate)?

Chapter/s: 01 of ??

AN: And it's finally ready! Yes, this is what I had been working on on stream.

So, when I started off writing, I ended up in a group called The G.M.A.D. which was born during the height of the Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons fandom - I now lead the group, but that's another story. So, let's head back to where it all began.

Now, to nip the obvious bit in the bud right out of the gate, just because I'm doing a HP AU does not mean that I agree with or subscribe to any of JK Rowling's opinions/beliefs. This was simply an idea I had that I really wanted to write. Nothing more. While I'm sure many of you are mature enough to realise that, I just wanted to make sure it's known in case there's some knee-jerk reactions incoming, seeing as some people do have a problem with it.

And, with that out of the way, I think we can probably jump right into the first chapter from here. Or you can go read it on AO3 or FFN if that suits you better. There'll be some other stuff I'll talk about at the end, but for now enjoy!

*****

Chapter 01 – Back To Hogwarts

The Hogwarts Express chugs along the rail tracks, puffing out smoke from its engine as it hurtles onwards. Within one of the carriages, three adolescent wizarding students sit inside the same cabin. Three close friends who have – despite their previous four years together at Hogwarts have been involved in a veritable swarm of misadventures and misfortune the likes of which few witches and wizards would dare dream of encountering within their entire lifetime.

The first of the two witches – Rapunzel – can be easily identified from her incredibly long golden hair cascading down her back. In this case, not only does it flow down her back separating her from the soft sapphire blue cushions behind her, it cascades under her forming an additional cushion for her seat before pooling by her feet in a great heap. Her charcoal grey robes hug to her, with just the fleeting sight of her white tunic beneath the robes poking out at her manubrium. Wrapped around her neck in a tight hug and covering most of her exposed white tunic is her house scarf, the gentle honeyed yellow stripes and soft warm brown tones of Hufflepuff.

The sole male in the carriage – one Jack Frost – has shockingly white hair, white as powdered snow across an empty field with just a hint of darkening sleet grey. His Hogwarts outer robe has been discarded, flung into the empty seat of their carriage, leaving him in his white button up shirt – with the sleeves rolled up just below his armpits and jet black pants. Snaking around his neck – contrasting from his friend's honey-yellow and warm brown stripes – is a tie striped with emerald green and frosted white, the colours of his nominated house of Slytherin.

The third of the students in the carriage – and the second witch – like her fellow witch can be most easily noticed by her hair. A great frizzy mane of scarlet curls can only be attributed to Merida, heiress of the pure-blood DunBroch family. While not completely forsaking the overcoat of her robes like Jack, they do hang much looser than Rapunzel's, leaving more of her white button up exposed. For her, it's all the easier for her to not only shoot her bow, currently slung over her shoulder and handcrafted by her father, but also far more freeing to ride and be herself – accursed memories of her mother stringing up her corset far too tightly and insisting she be dressed as an heiress of her stature should be dressed spring to mind. Like her friends, the scarf bathed in her house colours is slung around her neck, though instead of the honeyed yellow of Hufflepuff and the glinting emerald green of Slytherin, her tie carries the vibrant crimson slash and proud golden stripes of Gryffindor. Also, in a mismatch to her female friend, instead of incorporating the traditional female attire of a long plain skirt to cover her legs, she instead matches Jack with a pair of jet black trousers. Finally, strewn across her chest, bound by a thick strap of leather, is a quiver bound by an undetectable extension charm heavily filled with a variety of hand crafted and fired awry arrows.

The redhead in question lets out a rather audible groan as Jack, chuckling to himself, breathes out a chilly breath from his mouth and ices up their carriage window. Perching up on his toes on the hand rest, he starts to trace different designs into the frosted window, starting with a standard snowflake.

“Havenae you had enough actin' like a feral child?” Merida growls at him.

Jack pauses his tracing and looks over his shoulder, maintaining his squat on the hand rest.

“Oh, like you're one to talk about a feral child. I know what you and your brothers get up to.

“Oh really?” Merida shoots back. “Me and ma brothers?”

“Oh sure. It's not like the Great Bear Chase of '99 will be instantly forgotten,” Jack remarks with a chuckle, ignoring the pointed glare Merida fixes him with. “Not when the entire castle went chasing shadows into the depths of the wine cellar. Remind me, how long was it before your father limped out of there?”

“Not long enough for me tae forget that it was you who suggested that plan to them, ye' little git!”

Merida lunges at Jack, only for the intrinsically talented snow-mage to leap over her charge – making her slam head first into the frosted window with a frustrated and painful groan while the chuckling Jack lands gracefully perched onto another hand rest.

“Hey, guys, maybe you should give it a rest,” Rapunzel suggests, albeit making sure she's safely away from her friend's squabbles. “Besides, we're almost there. And then we can say hello to Hiccup!”

At her excitement, Merida breaks her glare at Jack and sags into her newly acquired seat with a huff, mumbling to herself, “Yeah, while you try hard tae look for the latest Prince Charmin' to give ye' a letter …”

“What was that?”

While Rapunzel herself genuinely seems to be oblivious to Merida's insinuations and asking an innocent question, Pascal – her pet chameleon that she's been sneaking into Hogwarts every year in light of their strict recommendations of magical animal pets – clambers out of Rapunzel's scarf and squints at Merida, jabbing at its eyes to hers,before pounding a small fist into its' hand.

“Nothin'!” Merida chuckles, avoiding her eyes as she takes in Pascal. “Nothin' at all!”

Jack chuckles and back-flips forwards into his new seat, leaning back with his head held in his hands.

“Well, maybe I should take back that feral child bit,” he starts, “when it comes to you, at least.”

With a growl Merida darts forwards, holding her fist right up to the face of the prankster.

“Tell me, does Mister Gobber know ye're the reason his favourite peg leg shattered durin' the Snoggletog holidays?” she presses, raising her eyebrow towards him as her hand inches closer to his jaw. “Snap-frozen, was it?”

“Oh Jack ...” Rapunzel whispers, cupping her hands to her mouth in genuine shock. “You didn't ...”

“Not at all!” he exclaims, before pointing towards Merida. “This psycho-!”

At this, Merida thrusts her fist even closer to his face – to the point it just makes contact with his jaw before the white haired boy flinches back.

“I-I mean, it was a simple accident!” Jack insists, pointing a hand to Merida. “One this one knew better than to instigate.”

“Merida?!” Rapunzel asks in shock, turning her attention to the Scottish heiress.

“Oh for- A' did nothin'!”

“Yep, nothing,” Jack echoes, his voice dripping in sarcasm as his composure appears to quickly return. “Nothing at all.”

“A' swear, Frost-”

“Didn't even mention shattering the poor thing,” he bluntly adds with a smirk.

“Merida!” Rapunzel exclaims, jumping to her feet with her hands on her hips.

Merida backs up at this, throwing her hands up in a surrendering fashion. As she's focused on Rapunzel, she misses Jack's sly look over his shoulder as he slides back down into his seat, making himself comfortable by resting his now noticeably bare feet on the empty seat across from him containing his discarded robes.

“A' didnae tell him to shatter his peg leg!” Merida proclaims, only to have the dramatically long-haired blonde fix her with a look. “A' didn't!”

“No, but you did wonder what his moustache and hook would look like if it had icicles growing from them,” Jack teasingly adds on. “You said so yourself.”

“Just because ye' asked doesnae mean-”

Merida's protests are cut off as Jack hurls a freshly formed snowball from behind his back into her, smacking her dead in the face and flinging her back into the rich blue cushioned rest. Rapunzel snorts back a laugh as Merida sits forward, her frizzy red hair pulled over her face.

“Fine, ye' wanna play, Jack?” Merida growls.

At her friends' antics, Rapunzel rolls her eyes before glancing out of the frosted window, her brow furrowing as she thinks she spies a few recognisable shapes through the chill. “Uh … Guys?”

“Of course I do! I'm always playing!” Jack exclaims, either completely ignoring or missing Rapunzel's words.

It appears that Merida too has missed Rapunzel's words, as she stares down Jack with a glare and taunts, “Then let's play, s'no-balls!”

With that she lunges at Jack, grabbing the white-haired boy by the collar in an attempt to pin him beneath her. At first, it seems like she has him with the firm grip she has on his clean snow-white shirt, until he somehow finds the space to roll through and pin Merida beneath him. Without raising his wand Jack blows from his mouth a very chilly breeze, pushing pack Merida's frizzy hair and freezing her strands back against gravity. Rapunzel has to stifle a laugh back by cradling her beautiful long hair into her hands and cupping it to her mouth while Merida's eyes shoot up to her hairline, teeth chattering from the temperature drop.

“O-Oh,” the Scottish heiress chatters, her teeth clattering together, “th-that i-is i-it!”

She manages to get her centre of gravity up under his frame and lifts the lanky boy up before shoving him off, making him crash into the door frame with a sickening thud. Frost is left on his own to reach back, rubbing and gently prodding the back of his head for any signs of trauma.

“Ow!”

“There's more where that came from, ye' little snowflake!”

Despite having already knocked Jack off his seat onto the ground, Merida leaps from her own chair onto Jack, grabbing his collar and shaking him around as his head bounces off the wooden architecture.

“Hey, guys?” Rapunzel tries again, seemingly ignored by Merida who's got Jack trapped inside her grip, and Jack who's struggling at the very least for his own breath, let alone his own freedom. Regardless, neither of them appear to have heard her, as Merida continues to bobble his head around despite his best efforts to grab at her frizzy hair stuck out everywhere.

“Ye'! Must! Stop! Tryin'! Tae! Play! Pranks!” Merida shouts, shaking his head on each and every forceful word. Only once her last word is spoken and she lets up her skull rattling shakes does Jack have a chance to respond., with an ever-so-subtle glance towards her shoulder.

“Aw, but Pascal loves them so.”

Merida pauses at this just long enough for Pascal – who had invisibly crawled up onto her shoulder – to fire out its tongue into her ear, making her shriek and clamp down on the offending orifice. As she reaches for her ear, the release of weight lets the prankster sit up with a chuckle, only for Pascal to then shoot his tongue out at him. Unfortunately for both, instead of landing his tongue into a less sensitive spot, the tip of Pascal's tongue lands itself into Jack's eye, causing him to lash out with a cry, flinging the offender off somewhere else into the cabin.

“Tha' bloody snake!” Merida shouts with a hand to her ear.

“You know Pascal's a chameleon,” Rapunzel points out.

“A' dinnae care!” Merida exclaims, rubbing her ear. “A'm gonna kill it!”

“And I'm gonna let her!” Jack adds on, his hand rubbing deeply into his eye.

Rapunzel gasps and cups her hands to her chest, with a quivering Pascal suddenly appearing in them.

“You'd never hurt Pascal!”

“Try me!” the Scottish heiress and the snow-touched boy shout simultaneously.

Together they both stand and make a move towards Pascal, with Rapunzel cradling the chameleon ever closer to herself. Suddenly, before the troublemakers can make a move, the loud whistle of the Hogwarts Express thunders overhead

“All students departing for Hogwarts!” Gobber's voice bellows from beyond their carriage. “Hogwarts is our only and final stop!”

Jack and Merida glance towards the carriage aisle as Rapunzel quickly darts her hands containing Pascal behind her back, letting the chameleon latch itself into her unnecessarily long blonde hair. By the time the two turn back to her, Pascal has all but disappeared to their eyes.

“Tha' damn weasel!” Merida exclaims in frustration.

“Don't you mean snake?” Jack interjects.

“The only snake around here is you!”

“Says the woman who wanted to curse Astrid's broom to beat herself over the head just so she could get the Chaser's spot!” Jack points out, although he is met with a growl from the Scottish archer.

“Uh … guys?” Rapunzel tries to jump in, her attention fixed outside their exterior window. However, to her discredit, neither Jack nor Merida appear to hear her, with Merida instead choosing to continue arguing with Jack.

“A' did no such thin'!”

“Though you're not denying you thought about it, eh?” Jack retorts with a smirk.

“Doesnae matter. A' still got ma' spot over that she-devil,” Merida huffs, folding her arms over her chest as she lets loose a puff of air to blow her frizzy hair away from her face. “And before her too.”

“Guys?!” Rapunzel loudly exclaims, fixing them both with a glare.

Both Jack and Merida turn towards their friend as she sheepishly glances out the window, already standing up from her seat and bundling her hair up, threading her hair through a number of hair ties that grow larger and larger with each segment added to each other – gathering five tied sections and folding them over before repeating the process. As the two look out, the train finishes pulling up at Hogwarts Station, there already being a large amount of people wandering around out on the station outside.

“Oh Gods!” Merida exclaims, her hands shooting up and gripping deep within her scarlet curls.

“By the Moon, we're here!” Jack shouts just after her, jumping to his feet in a fit as he glances around for his minuscule belongings.

The two start to quickly try and grab whatever they've got strewn around the cabin, with some of their belongings – and in Jack's case, his shoes – left laying here, there and everywhere. Rapunzel smiles and rolls her eyes in good nature, handing Merida an askew arrow which is swiftly added to her enchanted quiver. Rapunzel gets up and grabs the small satchel she brought along with her, filled with her paints and drawings along with a book or two, before making her way ahead of her two friends, her hair having been bundled up off the ground in a big pendulous mass of hair and hair ties bunched up, folded over, tied again, and so on till it left the ground.

“She really needs a better way o' dealin’ wi' her hair,” Merida pauses from packing up as she glances at Rapunzel leaving, the big mass of hair swinging back and forth with each step.

Jack initially nods at this before his brow furrows, his cool hand reaching across to thread one of Merida's long ginger curls through the digit and holding it in front of her face, his expression screaming, “Like you're one to talk.”

This in turn causes Merida to slap his hand away and free her curl. The two seem ready to get back to arguing, until a reptilian creaking comes from the door. As they glance at the sound – and Rapunzel leaving – Pascal reappears on her shoulder, giving them both the eye and staring them down. The two look to one another before continuing their jostling as they finish packing up their small belongings, still bumping against one another as they step off the train. While to others, it may seem rough, neither of them minded – Merida with her three brothers all raring and willing to mess up everything they possibly can at a moments notice at home, and Jack with his long running and now infamous mischievous streak to rival even the legendary Thorston twins – it was naught but a splash in a puddle to them.

With their items all gathered up, the three made their way off the train and onto the platform, immediately coming face-to-face with the many bustling students crowding along the station. All looking for their way up to school, from the 7th years on the cusp of wizarding adulthood only with only one final year left to grow up, to the many new small first years – fresh faced and lost with no way of knowing where to go. That is, until the off-key hollering of Professor Gobber grabs the wee flagons' attention, the children following his calls towards the one-armed and one-legged teacher.

Despite the heavy throng, the three 5th years manage to manoeuvre their way through the crowd – partially thanks to Merida dragging Jack in the right direction as he dances between students young and elder, even hollering out to a young first-year named Jamie before quickly losing sight of him, until all three came before the fourth member of their frankly infamous quartet. From staring down Gobber's grumpy and otherwise extremely drowsy three-headed dog named Dogmatix, to exonerating Flynn Rider, or Eugene Fitzherbert as Rapunzel alone knew him as, the four of them had quite a reputation.

Notwithstanding the lone reputation already of the boy before them – with only one leg of flesh and bone remaining while the other crafted of metallic springs, latices and other implements that many in the wizarding world would regard as Muggle-tech, and the story of his survival against the dreaded dragon conqueror to which his famed missing phantom limb is associated, one Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. His woollen charcoal sweater hangs loosely over his limber stature, with the slightly askew hem of his white button-up poking out beneath the crimson sweater lining, the collar also poking out at the neck. Wrapped round his neck and with the knot showcased between the shirt collar and sweater fabric is a tie matching the

Upon seeing the skinny brunette, Rapunzel immediately squeals and dashes forwards, her house scarf trailing behind her as she leaps forwards into him and crushes him in a tight hug.

“Hiccup!”

To his credit, his false leg is able to take the brunt of the weight as the long haired blonde wraps her arms around his neck and swings through with a delighted hum, the crafted supporter latching into step as she swings him around. Both Jack and Merida can't help but laugh as they take in Rapunzel's enthusiastic greeting, along with Hiccup's trepidatious reaction.

“Careful, careful …”

Rapunzel lets go at his pained wince, instead bringing her hands to her face. “Ooh, sorry! I wasn't even thinking!”

“It's alright,” Hiccup assures her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry about it.”

That in turn brings forth the Jorgenson heir to interject with an overly hearty laugh. “Yeah, don't worry!”

Snotlout gives a particularly pointed barge into Hiccup from behind as he walks by, grouped along with his normal group of the Thorston twins, Fishlegs and Astrid. “It's not like he'll need that dumb leg this year anyway.”

He chuckles as he walks away, as does the twins, though they seem to be laughing for the sake of it rather than knowing if Snotlout's insinuating anything. As it is, their laughter does turn genuine rather quickly as Astrid quickly elbows him in the gut, making the Slytherin snake double over in pain. Admiring her handiwork with a satisfied smile, Astrid's pink lips swiftly downturn to a frown as she looks over to Merida.

“DunBroch.”

“Hofferson.”

The group of five friends despite being across in different houses – with Snotlout proudly bearing the house tie and scarf of Slytherin, Fishlegs clinging to his deep royal Ravenclaw blue, and Astrid and the twins sharing Merida's scarlet red and golden stripes of Gryffindor, all having grown up in the island village of Berk – begin to walk away from the gathered four. While Astrid walks with a commanding presence, Snotlout continues to gingerly rub his gut with a grumble while the twins continue to cackle over his misfortune, adding some friendly yet forceful slaps to the back of his head and neck. Fishlegs, rounding out the group, gives them a little wave as he shuffles past before following on after the others, putting his head back down into his new thick school textbook – Hiccup noticing the deep crimson cover and surmising it to be one of the new books they would need for the Care of Magical Creatures this year – Weighing the Scales of Dragonology

Merida watches them go with a huff as she glares in their direction, “Guess it was too much tae hope for them tae have grown up at all over the break?”

“To be fair, Fishlegs is harmless, and the twins are good fun.” Jack responds, springing to their aid. At least, until his face sours. “But Snotlout? Yeah, that'd be giving him too much credit.”

With that the frostborn haired human turns to the one legged wizard and flings out a hand to his head. “How's it going, kid?”

“Kid?” Hiccup presses. “I'm only a couple of months younger than you.”

“Yeah, and just as adorable to match,” Jack replies with a smirk, sending out a hand over to Hiccup's head and ruffling his hand from his mop of tousled brown hair that has grown thicker and fuller over the years they have known one another. Hiccup's head is pushed down by Jack's hand before he reaches up and brushes his hand away.

“So, what was that about ye' no' needin' ya' leg this year?” Merida tacks on, jabbing a thumb in the direction of Snotlout's retreating form.

Hiccup glances down at his prosthetic – the one his father initially insisted he take instead of living metal by order of the chief – not that Hiccup wanted it anyway – he far more preferred the intricate nature of his missing metal limb than having to be adorned with a living metal, or deal with people telling him how he should his innate knowledge.

“Ah,” Hiccup spurs, not taking his eyes off of his missing limb. “I'm not entirely sure, though I'd say it's to do with some event happening here this year.”

“Your father didn't tell you anything?” Rapunzel asks, stepping beyond the other two of their friend group. To that, Hiccup can't begin to look any of them in their eye, instead withdrawing within himself as several others stride forwards before even a whisper of what they may have to do is presented before them. All Hiccup can do is gather his own heart and look towards Rapunzel to further press.

“When does my father tell me anything?”

His three friends grimace and look at one another. All three were rather familiar with Stoick's stern streak when it came to running the school – as well as what he thought was the best way to toughen Hiccup up. Apparently keeping his son in the dark about major school events still falls in line with his ideology.

“Though, I assume it must be big,” he continues, his eyes darting in the direction of the retreating Berkians.

“What tells ye' that?” Merida asks, stepping up next to the famous Haddock youth.

“Surely Snotlout's gloating,” Jack scoffs, following Hiccup's glance with a rather cold look. “I'd wager Professor Spitelout knows and made sure his boy does too. Whatever helps get the Jorgenson's an upper hand.”

Indeed, Professor Spitelout Jorgenson has shown a tendency during their schooling years to display not just a great deal of pride for the house he was once a part of, and now the Head of – Slytherin.

Indeed, each of them could recall several occasions during their schooling years of Professor Spitelout Jorgenson showing not just a great deal of pride for the accolades of the students of Slytherin – the house he was once in and now was now Head of – but also shown a tendency to favour said house with an array of points gifted towards his students, whilst also being harsher towards everyone else with points deductions and punishments. And, while older students had informed them that this behaviour wasn't unusual from Spitelout even before they arrived, according to them his bias has only deepened since they had joined.

Of course, many would reasonably believe that this was in no small part to his own son Snotlout becoming enrolled in the school and placed in Slytherin. After all, Snotlout did show and emulate many of the same prideful and ambitious qualities that his father has in spades. However, Hiccup had also overheard whispers that Spitelout could also be rather harsh on his son, showing him less favour and pushing him to prove himself again and again – a tough love streak that may be shared by his own father, Stoick. Although in Stoick's case it could be an even poorer look if the Headmaster showed a great deal of favour to their own child. Hiccup also had a sneaking suspicion that his own arrival at the school played a part in Spitelout's growing favouritism as well, if his own father's complaints had anything to go by.

*****

“Argh, blast that Spitelout! Always trying to challenge my authority! Push his own ideas!” Hiccup could remember Stoick complaining at home during the summer holidays over a flagon of honeyed mead. “Probably thinks he should be Headmaster! I know that look in his eyes!”

He'd drain the remnants of his drink – just filled at that, too – before slamming the vessel down a little too hard on the dining table.

“Acting all high and mighty because Slytherin has won the House Cup the last ten years … bah! He's just sore he could never take the Cup away from us Gryffindor's when we were students!”

Stoick'd beat his fist against his chest proudly at that before turning to face the young Hiccup.

“When you get to Hogwarts, son, you'd best win that House Cup,” he'd said sternly, mayhaps even a little more threateningly than he'd intended. Nevertheless, to a young Hiccup it'd just made him feel all the smaller for it. “Take it away from that boar and wipe that smirk from his face.”

Thankfully, that had finally been achieved last year when Gryffindor snatched the House Cup away from Slytherin, finally breaking their 11 year reign with the trophy. With their first three years Hiccup couldn't help see his father's wish through, with Stoick's scowl sinking deeper and Spitelout's pride growing ever greater. But, during their fourth year, a combination of tinkering on behalf of several of the other Professor's to undo some of Spitelout's bias along with Gryffindor winning the Inter-House Quidditch Cup gave them the points to finally end Slytherin's reign – a victory brought about by not just having both Astrid and Merida in the team instead of just one (not that either of them would admit it) to push their whole squad along, but also made all the sweeter by their final victory being over Slytherin themselves. Not even Spitelout's rather blatant attempts to dock Gryffindor points in the last couple of weeks in the school year could undo Gryffindor's eventual win, with even Stoick himself subtly undoing his work to prevent a rather unjust result.

*****

“That, and my dad's been out of the house a lot, recently,” Hiccup notes as he nods along with Jack's statement. “I've barely seen him around the last two months. And when I did arrive here, Gobber's been avoiding me like the plague.”

Rapunzel hums as her hand comes up to her chin, her finger resting on it thoughtfully. “That doesn't sound like Gobber.”

“Ah, he's probably just tryin' tae avoid spilling the beans,” Merida reasons, dismissing their concern with a wave of her shooting hand. “The man couldnae keep a secret tae save his hand.”

At that, Gobber starts to walk past leading the first years across the station. At the sight of Jack, Merida and Rapunzel, Gobber gives them a wave with his hook. However, when his eyes lock onto Hiccup's, the blacksmith and Care of Magical Creatures professor freezes with a yelp and quickly hides his hook behind his neck. This in turn brings out a pained cry from Stoick's right hooked man as the point jabs into the back of his neck. Rapunzel for her part winces at the sharp jab. Her sincerity isn't quite replicated by the two troublemakers of the group, with a low chuckle spilling from Jack's mouth, while Merida stifles her laugh behind her hands. A few little giggles and laughs add into their noise, with Gobber turning on his heel to find many of the first years amused by his plight – though some do look concerned to their credit. Among the laughing group is the young boy Jamie that Jack had called out earlier to – the prankster shooting out a quick wink to his young friend.

“Come on, you lot!” Gobber grumbles, waving the first years forwards with the offending hook. “Don't want to be late for your first day! Stoick'd never let me hear the end of it ...”

Muttering that last line under his breath, he starts to limp forwards – pointedly avoiding Hiccup's hurt look as he continues along the station in the direction the four knew from their own initiation to Hogwarts met the long winding dirt trail towards the enchanted sailor-less boats. The first years follow on, first at a trickle before the large swath moves together. Jamie shoots a questioning look at Jack as he shuffles past in the crowd. Jack only answers with a nod and a shooing action, leaving Jamie to turn around as the two near-identical looking boys next to him chatter excitedly amongst themselves and to the young boy from Burgess.

“Seems like only yesterday that that was us, eh?” Rapunzel wistfully remarks, watching the first-years with a warm smile.

Jack's brow furrows a little as he glances at her. “Weren't you telling us some kid nearly knocked Pascal overboard when he bounced off your shoulder onto her face?”.

“Pascal didn't mean it!” Rapunzel defensively cries out, reaching up to her shoulders to cradle the chameleon in question in her hands. “Didn't you, boy?”

Pascal pauses for a moment, looking as if trying to recall the moment, before giving a slight shrug. Rapunzel hums softly at that, returning him to her shoulder. As she does, her gaze catches Hiccup as he shuffles his feet, looking down from the direction Gobber hobbled off in with a tightened twinge of hurt in his eyes.

“Oh, Hiccup ...” the girl with extremely long golden hair puts a hand on his shoulder. “You know it's nothing personal, right? Gobber wouldn't do this to hurt you.”

“Yeah, but would he do it because my dad doesn't want me to know?”

Her face hardens a little at his question – as does the grip on his shoulder. Unbeknownst to them both, Merida comes across and gives him a slap across the back, staggering the lithe wizard over from her forceful hit.

“Ow!” Hiccup shouts out as he starts to rub his shoulder near where he was hit. “Ah … Why is it always violence with you?”

“You try livin' wi' three tykes that'll never listen tae ye',” the DunBroch heiress answers with a smirk and a shrug, as if that should explain it. That smirk however quickly drops as she hears the chuckle of the white-haired prankster – one laced with a hint of something beyond amusement.

“And you say that you and Astrid aren't alike,” Jack teases warmly, a finger pointing towards Merida and the direction the Hofferson witch left. “Slapping Hiccup's back, elbowing Snotlout's gut …”

At each example, Jack uses his hands as if to weigh their respective actions, eventually settling them at about even as he watches his friend with a grin. Merida's face grows red at that and she stomps towards Frost, who – in the face of the oncoming storm – tilts his amused grinning head to one side and leans back on his heels, sliding his hands into his pockets with the thumbs resting outside.

Sensing the potential danger their coming together could bring, no doubt reinforced by previous clashes between the two by any number of teasing and pranks that just had to be avenged right then and there, Rapunzel steps away from Hiccup's side to intercept the two of them. With the three of his friend's attention on them and away from himself, the young Haddock's growing blush thankfully went unnoticed. His eyes seem to grow a little distant as the hand that was gingerly rubbing his shoulder slides down to gently brush his forearm, the image of his blossoming crush filling his mind.

“We're no' alike!” Merida shouts, jabbing her finger in Jack's direction as her flustered voice barely breaks through Hiccup's daze. “You take that back!”

She lashes out an arm towards him in an attempt to grab Frost, fully intending to grab him by the scruff of his button-up so he couldn't escape. However, her outstretched hand – quite adept at catching and throwing Quaffles with considerable ease – catches nothing but air as Jack gracefully avoids her with a spin and a charming laugh, darting deeper into the crowd of students.

“Come on!” he shouts back, waving them onwards towards him. “Let's grab our stuff and make for the carriages! If we're lucky, we'll get one to ourselves!”

With another laugh Jack disappears through the crowd, dancing through the bustling bodies as if he was the wind, making no contact with anyone. Merida growls in annoyance and takes off after him, noticeably lacking the grace and ease that Jack possesses with his feet as she jostles up against some students in her hurry – it not taking long for her to accidentally knock one over which causes her to apologise profusely. Rapunzel starts to follow after them before coming to a stop and suddenly spinning round – causing her bundle of hair to swing out wide and softly bounce into a couple of students. She offers them a quick apology and a wave, using her arm to bring the swinging hair back into place behind her and to stop its swaying, before glancing towards who she had been looking for in the first place. Hiccup had yet to move from his spot, still gently rubbing his arm as he stares off into space – not even noticing that two of his friends had gone off. In fact, he was so lost in his head he didn't even notice Rapunzel coming back up to him till her head had dropped directly into his eyeline, her wide green eyes directly staring into his own green eyes.

“Hiccup?”

Hiccup jumps and his head darts around, catching a few odd looks at his behaviour from passing students as he starts to stammer. “What?! I-I'm here! Yo- Wha-?”

As his thoughts return to the here and now, his gaze returns to Rapunzel's and he freezes, her once querying expression having morphed into a knowing look. His face heats up once more as he smacks his palm into his forehead with a groan. “Oh gods ...”

Rapunzel's glossy lips curve into a soft smile as she brings her arm around Hiccup, leading him in the direction their friends ran off in.

“Come on, lover boy,” she teases as they walk together. “Maybe this year will be the one you can tell Astrid how you feel.”

“I-I have n-no idea what you're talking about …” he replies, his voice catching in his throat as he tries to shrug off her arm. She lets him – not having her arm wrapped overly tightly around him – and just hums in response to what she would call his rather obvious lie, with the two continuing to the luggage cabin.

Upon arriving, they luckily find that Merida and Jack have not devolved into more physical violence and snowball fights, as Jack smirks good-naturedly while Merida with a tap of her wand finishes shrinking her handmade bow given to her by her father along with her enchanted quiver down to pack them into her trunk away from obvious sight from any concerned teachers – as while Gobber never bats an eye at students carrying around weapons, some of the others very well do.

“A necessary precaution against trolls,” he'd told them once while riffling through his sock drawer.

Hiccup helps Rapunzel locate her own trunk as they search amongst the many unloaded belongings and students searching just like them – Hiccup having already arrived a week ago has his belongings packed at the castle. By the time Rapunzel has found her trunk, they see that Jack acquired his and slung his case over his shoulder – while Merida has finished hiding her bow and arrows away.

With the three trunks found and being wheeled behind them, the four make their way from the station towards what would appear to be magically self-drawn carriages. That is, to anyone unlucky – or lucky, depending on your point of view – enough to know better. For a marked minority within the student body, they would see the two horse-like creatures hooked up to each carriage. Thestrals, creatures with cold grey skin and large leathery wings currently folded up against their body, visible only to those who've seen death.

Amongst their group, Merida and Rapunzel could not see them there, though both were more than smart enough to believe in their existence. That was also helped by their companions' ability to see the beasts, and their belief in their friend's claims. Hiccup's tale was well known amongst the wizarding community – having been there as a babe when Drago Bludvist attacked his parent's home. While Stoick was able to get baby Hiccup out and fight Drago off, the madman murdered Stoick's father as he protected the child – Hiccup being able to see the thestrals all but proving that for him. And as the inferno of dragon and hell fire consumed their ancestral home, his mother Valka had been consumed within with nary a trace of her remaining. Meanwhile, when they realised Jack could see the thestrals too, his account was that he couldn't fully see the creatures – merely a translucent vision of them. Any further prodding and poking to try and find out more was woefully unsuccessful, and maybe the only thing that Hiccup, Merida and Rapunzel knew could truly bring down the spirits of their playful friend.

Nevertheless, the four climbed into the same carriage and – after waiting a moment to make sure no one else would want to get in with them – the other students certainly not being intimidated by Merida's glare and Jack tossing a snowball up and down in his hands at all – the carriage began to pull them up the winding path towards Hogwarts Castle. And only when they were truly alone and away from prying eyes and ears did one of them finally speak again, with Rapunzel turning to ask Hiccup a question.

“Oh, by the way, Hiccup? How is Toothless?”

*****

AN: So, there we are, one chapter down. What did you think?

I'll point out now that this isn't just going to be a straight palette swap with the Goblet of Fire. There are going to be some changes, not just with the format of the tournament but also some extra stuff in and around - though more on that later.

Also, I will try to utilise characters from across the board for the background and side characters. Although, fair warning, there'll be more of an emphasis/inclusion towards the HTTYD characters. Just because that's the franchise I'm most familiar with and have more to pull from.

You may also be interested to know that I had been working on this through some live streams over on my YouTube channel. If you'd like to go looking there to see what it's like, my channel is the same name as here and the writing streams are titled 'Come Write With Me'. Obviously, if you're wanting to do that there may be some spoilers, so if you're hesitant don't watch (I do put the title of whatever work I'm working on in the stream title anyway, so you can pick and choose if you'd like). I also do gaming over there and am looking to so some fantasy writing/what if? style videos there too, so if you're interested, you're more than welcome to look there.

Otherwise, feel free to like/reblog and leave a review. I'm always interested to see what people think of my writing, as well as how things change over time. You can also find me on the aforementioned YouTube, along with AO3 and FFN (all under the same Thorongil82 name).

And with that, I'll take my leave. Until next time!

#my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #rotbtd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #httyd #how to train your dragon #brave #tangled #rise of the guardians #harry potter #harry potter au #hiccup haddock and the triwizard tournament

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