Marvel: Death Knight

Inside a dilapidated room, a slender boy sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes glowing faintly white. Gripping a pen tightly, he feverishly sketched on a canvas in front of him as though possessed.

The scene he painted depicted Manhattan, near Stark Tower. A brilliant beam of white light shot into the sky from the building's rooftop. Alien ships emerged en masse from a pitch-black void in the heavens. In stark contrast, a massive floating city loomed nearby, its surroundings teeming with colossal warships. The city below was engulfed in the chaos of battle.

After finishing, the boy collapsed onto the floor, beads of sweat streaming down his face as he wiped his forehead, visibly fatigued.

A series of coughs echoed from another room, drawing his attention. The boy jumped to his feet and dashed inside. "Mom, are you feeling any better?" he asked with concern.

"Cough, cough!" His mother looked up, her voice tinged with frustration as she scolded, "Xerion, why aren't you at school?"

"I'll head there right away, Mom. Call me if you need anything," he replied hastily. After ensuring she was relatively stable, he returned to his room, packed several of his earlier sketches into a bag, and left the house.

However, instead of heading to school, he ventured into New York's most dangerous neighborhood—Hell's Kitchen.

The boy moved cautiously through the streets, stopping at a small shop. As he paused, a flower pot suddenly fell from above, shattering on the ground just in front of him. Unfazed, he continued forward, eventually arriving at a sprawling, luxurious mansion. After a moment of hesitation, he rang the doorbell.

Inside the mansion, Garus, who was lounging idly, heard the unexpected chime and frowned. Visits were rare here, and even rarer was someone using the doorbell. Curious, he went to investigate.

Opening the door, he found a young boy standing nervously outside. The boy was short—barely five foot three—and carried a heavy-looking backpack.

"Who are you? I don't believe we've met," Garus asked, his brow furrowed.

The boy glanced around anxiously before meeting Garus's gaze. Without a word, he opened his bag and pulled out a few pieces of paper, which he handed over.

Garus examined the drawings. The first depicted a towering suit of metal armor emitting a beam of light from its head, wreaking havoc on the surrounding cityscape. The second featured a man wielding a hammer, a bolt of lightning descending dramatically from the heavens. Thor—clearly a scene from the Avengers.

"This is…?" Garus prompted, looking back at the boy.

After a brief hesitation, the boy replied, "This is something that will happen in the future."

Garus felt a chill run down his spine. He gestured for the boy to come inside. "Come in. We'll talk more inside."

As they sat in the living room, Garus observed the boy's nervous demeanor. "Are you a time traveler too?" he asked.

The boy blinked in confusion. "A time traveler? What's that?"

Garus frowned. He had assumed the boy was like him—a traveler displaced in time or worlds. "You're not? Then… these drawings—they're all yours, right?"

"Yes," the boy confirmed, pulling out another sketch. It was a drawing of the boy himself, sitting in a room—this very room—but with one notable absence: Garus was missing from the scene.

"What… is this?" Garus asked, stunned.

"These are all drawings I've made in the past," the boy explained. "Whatever I draw will eventually come to pass." His voice trembled as he added, "My name is Xerion. My ability awakened a year ago. I can foresee events that happen near me and draw them, but only events within my surroundings."

Garus leaned back, processing this revelation. "So, why have you come to me? It's not just to show off your ability, is it?"

Summoning his courage, Xerion said, "My mom is dying of a terminal illness. She doesn't have much time left. In one of my visions, I saw someone here who could save her."

Garus was skeptical of fate and even less inclined to believe in the ability to predict the future. Yet, the accuracy of the boy's sketches made him uneasy. Could it be true that everything he did was predestined?

"Do you have any other drawings? Ones about me?"

"No," Xerion replied. "None of my drawings have ever included you. And to be honest, I didn't come here for you."

The boy's gaze wandered around the room before he exclaimed, "There's a red-haired woman—a beautiful lady. She's the one who can cure my mom."

The Scarlet Witch, Garus realized.

Before Garus could respond, Xerion suddenly froze, his eyes glowing faintly. He pulled a blank sheet of paper from his bag, his hand moving at lightning speed, creating faint afterimages.

When the trance ended, the boy looked pale, almost drained. He handed Garus the drawing. It depicted a desolate, barren planet littered with ruins under a dark, clouded sky.

Garus recognized the figures in the drawing immediately: Magneto, Professor X, and Logan, standing opposite a horde of Sentinels.

The events of "X-Men: Days of Future Past"? Garus thought in shock. Could this be another future yet to unfold? Could Logan truly return to his original timeline?

Suppressing his growing unease, Garus took the boy's bag and examined its contents—dozens of sketches, all hinting at incredible events. The potential of Xerion's ability was staggering, even if he couldn't control it fully.

A mutant like this needs to be on my side.

"I can save your mother," Garus said at last, "but it won't be free. I want you to join my X-Academy."

Xerion didn't hesitate. "Deal."

Garus was surprised by the boy's quick agreement. "You're not even going to ask what the X-Academy is?"

"As long as I can get a college diploma out of it," Xerion replied, his voice firm. "That's my mom's dream for me."

"That won't be a problem," Garus said with a faint smile. With his resources—one of the top weapons manufacturers in America—securing a diploma from any university was a trivial matter.

Relieved, Xerion let out a sigh.

"But living out in the open is too dangerous for a mutant," Garus added. "You'll stop attending your regular school. Most people out there are still ordinary humans. And I want your mom to move into the city I've built—it's safer there."

"Understood," Xerion replied. He had learned the hard way how difficult it was to conceal his ability. It was only a matter of time before his powers were exposed again.

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