The red-haired woman standing silently behind Professor X was none other than Jean Grey. Her calm demeanor and poised expression couldn't hide the immense power sleeping inside her. Henry's attention was drawn to her the moment he sensed that unmistakable presence — the Phoenix Force.
Yes, that Phoenix Force.
Jean Grey, widely known in mutant circles as the Phoenix, wasn't just another mutant. She was the host to one of the most terrifying and awe-inspiring powers in existence — the Phoenix Force, an ancient and primordial cosmic entity.
The origin of the Phoenix Force was a mystery that even the greatest minds in the universe failed to fully grasp. Some speculated that it hailed from the original universe, born at the dawn of creation, an embodiment of life, death, and rebirth — a creature of chaos and eternity. It wasn't just powerful; it was existence-altering. The Force was thought to be the "son of the universe," a title that conveyed the sheer scale and terror it commanded.
Once you understood even a fragment of this power's scope, you'd recognize how truly terrifying it was.
The Phoenix Force had the power to ignite stars and extinguish them just as easily. It wasn't just about destruction — it was about transformation. It could bring about renewal or annihilation on a universal scale. The passion of the Phoenix was both beautiful and catastrophic, turning life into judgment, judgment into fire, and fire into rebirth... or ash.
To the untrained eye, it might seem like the Phoenix Force was simply a form of energy — a particularly potent one. But that assumption couldn't be more wrong. The Phoenix Force was sentient. It had a will, a voice, and a consciousness older than time itself.
Most forces in the universe could not think. They acted according to rules, to balance. The Phoenix Force, however, had agency. It chose its hosts — or perhaps it tested them. And of all the beings across the countless multiverses, Jean Grey was its most suitable vessel.
Why her?
Because Jean Grey wasn't just strong. She had potential. Emotional depth. Psychic capacity unlike any mutant before or after. And perhaps, something else — something the Phoenix found unique. As a result, the Phoenix chose her, clung to her, bound itself to her soul.
Henry, standing across the room, could sense that connection. Even now, the force was within her. Dormant. Suppressed. But present. And for now, that suppression wasn't due to Jean's own willpower alone — it was the work of the man standing in front of her.
Professor Charles Xavier.
Henry didn't trust Xavier, not completely. Despite his calm smile and polished manners, the man was a master manipulator. As powerful as he was kind, as calculating as he was compassionate.
Yes, Xavier was the founder of the X-Men and widely regarded as a hero. But Henry couldn't ignore the invasive nature of his abilities. Telepathy. Mind control. Memory alteration. Charles Xavier had the capacity to reach into a person's deepest thoughts and twist them into knots — and all while wearing the face of a saint.
Could anyone ever truly trust someone with such powers?
Henry didn't.
He respected the man's influence. He understood his mission. But that didn't mean he had to like him.
"Hello, sir," Xavier said with a pleasant smile. "I heard Polaris call you earlier… Henry, is that right?"
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Correction. It's Master Henry."
There was a brief pause before Xavier nodded politely. "Ah. My apologies. Master Henry, then."
It was a small exchange, but the title mattered to Henry. It was a recognition of his identity, his journey, and the vast mystical forces he had inherited.
Xavier didn't dwell on it. Instead, he moved on to the purpose of his visit. "I'm here because I'm concerned for Polaris' safety. Given her current status, the outside world is too dangerous for her. The Secret Service is actively tracking her."
Henry nodded, unsurprised. He'd suspected that Xavier's sudden visit had something to do with Polaris. The X-Men rarely intervened unless a mutant's life was in danger or their power threatened public safety. Henry understood that. But that didn't mean he had to hand her over.
From a purely logical perspective, Henry had no deep bond with Polaris. She'd only been working as his housekeeper for a month. Their interactions, though warm and respectful, hadn't evolved into anything significant. He could've let her go. Could've let Xavier take her back to the mansion and be done with the mess.
But reality wasn't always dictated by logic.
During the time she'd spent with him, Polaris had been more than a housekeeper. She had worked diligently, loyally, and had shown strong resistance to Xavier's ideology. Henry had asked her about it once. She'd simply said that she didn't trust him. And Henry had believed her.
So, when the moment came, Henry replied without hesitation, "She's the housekeeper I hired. And for now, she stays. You can't take her away."
Professor X was visibly stunned.
"Hired… housekeeper?" he echoed, blinking in disbelief. It was clear that he hadn't expected Polaris — Lorna Dane — to voluntarily stay under someone else's roof and serve as a mere housemaid.
He turned slowly toward her. "Is that true, Lorna?"
Without hesitation, Polaris answered with firm resolve, "Yes. I'm Master Henry's housekeeper. I won't go back with you."
The reaction in the room was instant.
Cyclops — Scott Summers — looked dumbfounded. Mystique tilted her head with curiosity. Several of the other X-Men exchanged shocked glances.
"Polaris," Mystique started, "you have incredible power. Why waste it cleaning floors and polishing silverware?"
Cyclops frowned. "Lorna, seriously? You'd rather be a… a housekeeper?"
Henry folded his arms, clearly irritated. "Is that a problem? Is it shameful to be my housekeeper?"
The way he said it made the temperature drop a degree.
Henry wasn't just some average guy. He was a chosen one. A mage blessed with unparalleled talent and infinite potential. The future Sorcerer Supreme. Being in his service wasn't a disgrace — it was an honor.
But Cyclops didn't see it that way.
"No offense," he said with a scoff, "but no matter how you frame it, being an X-Men is clearly a better life path than being someone's domestic servant."
"Wrong," Polaris snapped back. "In my view, serving Master Henry is far better than anything the X-Men ever offered me."
That statement hit harder than a psychic blast.
The X-Men had trained for years, sacrificed blood and sweat to protect humanity. And here was Polaris, dismissing all of it in favor of sweeping someone's living room.
"Lorna, you're being ridiculous!" Cyclops barked.
Mystique stepped forward, her tone softer. "Lorna… you're not acting like yourself. Is everything okay? Are you being coerced?"
Polaris scoffed, the insult clear in her eyes. "Are you serious? You think I'd be this loyal under threat? You say you can protect me — but how? Professor, are you really willing to cooperate with the same agencies that are hunting me?"
Her voice shook with fury. Her emotions, long simmering beneath the surface, now erupted. The magnetic energy in her body began to surge wildly. Lights flickered. Metal objects nearby trembled.
She was reaching her limit.
The room tensed. Any moment now, an uncontrolled burst of magnetic force could send everything flying.
Henry stepped forward, his presence immediately grounding. His voice was calm, but laced with unyielding authority. "Enough, Lorna. You've made your decision. There's no need to convince anyone else."
The energy around her stilled, like a storm held back by willpower alone.
Xavier watched the interaction closely. There was more going on here than met the eye. Henry wasn't just a mage with power — he had influence. And Lorna wasn't under any spell. She'd chosen her path. And her path… was beside Henry.
The message was clear.
This was no longer a negotiation.
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