The rain came in cold and sudden.
Eli ducked into a recessed stairwell beneath a boarded-up pawn shop just off West Cermak. From the street, it was just another dent in the city's rusted armor — but inside, the walls were dry, and the air didn't stink of rot.
He settled on the middle step, knees high, arms over them, hood up. He didn't mind the rain. It gave cover. Washed things clean. Made most people disappear.
But not today.
Eli heard footsteps approaching — soft, measured.
A woman appeared at the edge of the stairwell. She looked… wrong.
Not in a monstrous way. She was pretty. Mid-thirties, maybe. Red hair, jeans, a flannel shirt layered under a patched jacket. Everything about her screamed low-risk. Trustworthy. Someone's warm aunt.
But Eli's instincts hissed.
People in this city didn't walk with that kind of confidence unless they wore badges or carried guns.
She stopped three steps above him. Hands in her pockets. Face relaxed.
"Didn't mean to startle you."
"You didn't."
"Mind if I sit?"
Eli shrugged once.
She sat beside him, slowly, like she'd done it a thousand times before. He didn't look directly at her — just enough to keep her in his peripheral.
"You've made quite a bit of noise lately."
Eli didn't answer.
She smiled. "Don't worry. Not judging. Some people talk to be heard. Others fight to be understood."
Still nothing.
"Me? I listen. And I think someone like you… you're just waiting for the right offer."
That earned her a look. Just a flick of the eyes.
"Offer?"
"Yeah." Her tone warmed. "This city chews up people like you. But there are places where strength matters. Where it means something."
Eli leaned back a little. "And you're here to take me to paradise?"
"Something like that." She smiled again. A little wider. "We believe in making use of what the world throws away."
He sat still. But inside, his mind was already turning over her words.
'We.'
'Making use.'
'Strength matters.'
And then the kicker:
She leaned in slightly. "What you do… depends on what you can do. And how strong you are, my boy."
There it was.
Measurement. Valuation. Conditional belonging.
Eli turned to her, really looked at her for the first time. The kindness in her smile didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes. There was calculation behind them.
"Right," he said flatly. "And if I'm not strong?"
She hesitated. Just for a second. "Then… maybe you're not ready."
Not welcome.
Not useful.
Just not ready.
He stood.
"You talk like you've said this a lot."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Same lines. Same speech. But I'm not looking for a script. I'm not interested in being someone's bitch."
"You don't even know what we're offering."
"No," Eli said. "But I know what you're not saying. That tells me more."
The air between them turned colder.
The woman stood, but slower this time.
She reached into her coat and handed him a card with a silver symbol — a half-circle flanked by jagged lines.
"If you change your mind… we'll find you."
Eli took the card, glanced at it, then tossed it into a storm drain.
"You already did."
And with that, he walked off into the rain.
—-------------------------------------------------
Back at the Xavier Institute, the atmosphere was unusually sharp.
The meeting room hummed with low conversation. Jean sat with a tablet in hand, reviewing footage, while Beast stood beside her, arms folded. Kurt leaned by the window, watching the clouds. Logan, unusually quiet, sat on the edge of the table. His boots rested on a stool. He was chewing something, probably jerky.
Davos stood in the middle, arms behind her back, face unreadable.
"It wasn't one of ours," she said. "I don't know who she was."
Jean narrowed her eyes. "Describe her again."
"Red hair. Flannel. Midwest kind of nice. The kind of person you remember from family photos, but can't name."
Beast typed rapidly. "And what did she say to him?"
Davos shifted. "She asked if he wanted to be somewhere that strength meant something. Said what he did would depend on what he could do."
Scott leaned forward. "Recruitment pitch."
"Worse," Jean muttered. "Classification pitch."
Logan sat up. "Say that again."
"She implied he'd be judged based on power."
"That's not Xavier's message," Kurt said softly.
"No," Logan growled. "But it's Magneto's."
A silence passed.
Xavier, seated near the monitor, finally spoke.
"She never gave a name?"
"No," Davos said. "But I got the feeling she wasn't improvising. Like she's done this before."
Jean looked at Xavier. "It's Mystique, isn't it?"
Xavier exhaled. "Almost certainly."
"She beat us to him," Scott said.
"But he turned her down," Davos added.
That earned a glance from everyone.
"He didn't ask what the group was. Didn't follow her. He let her talk, then left. I trailed him another hour. He never looked back."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was something she said. Maybe it was something she didn't."
Logan smirked. "Kid's got instincts."
"More than that," Jean said. "She rattled him. He saw through it."
Scott grunted. "So he's smart. Doesn't mean he's stable."
Jean shot him a look. "And you were what at seventeen? Composed?"
"I wasn't knocking out four grown men in an alley."
"Not without a visor on, no."
Scott's jaw flexed, but he didn't rise to it.
Logan scratched his beard. "He's got a sharp edge. That's not a bad thing."
Xavier tilted his head. "You see something in him."
Logan nodded once. "Yeah. Something old."
Jean turned toward him. "You think he's like you?"
"Not like me," Logan said. "But maybe from the same dark corner."
—---------------------------------------------------
That night, Eli lay flat on the roof of a crumbling building, staring up at the clouds as the rain passed.
He thought about the woman.
Her smile.
Her phrasing.
Her mistake.
She hadn't offered help. She'd offered use. A place in a hierarchy he hadn't asked for.
He felt the cold metal of a bent antenna beneath his fingers and crushed it slowly until it snapped.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Back at the school, the team was dispersing from the briefing.
Logan hung back.
Jean caught his eye. "You planning to go see him?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"Because if Magneto wants him that bad…" Logan said, shrugging on his jacket, "...maybe we should show him what having a real family looks like before someone offer him to be part of an army."
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