Feeling the power surging through his body, Rorschach was itching to find a place to test it—just to see how strong he really was now.
But since he was currently in a car with others, he forced himself to stay calm.
"Over twenty tons of strength... I remember Spider-Man in the Avengers universe being around that level, right?"
He couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement.
Back when he watched those movies, Rorschach had been amazed by Spider-Man's feats—holding a cruise ship together, stopping a runaway train with his bare hands.
And now?
He could do the same.
As for his physical durability, he couldn't measure it exactly, but he figured a bullet might only break the skin at this point. Maybe not even that, if he completed one more system upgrade.
By then, he wouldn't just be tough—he'd be nearly indestructible.
[Progress reached: 5%. Heat Vision ability now available. Unlock?]
The system's voice interrupted his thoughts. Rorschach had assumed the enhancements were done, but clearly, he was wrong.
"Heat vision?" he muttered, startled—then immediately sat up straighter, excitement building fast.
He'd waited a long time for this.
Ever since being reborn into this world, he'd dreamed of unlocking this ability. After all, what's a Superman-type figure without heat vision?
Not only was it cool, but it was also powerful, efficient, and much more useful than things like super-hearing or X-ray vision.
If he'd had it earlier, dealing with Red Devil and Riptide would've been a breeze.
One glance—and boom. Problem solved.
Just then, the car began to slow, pulling him out of his thoughts. A gentle shift of momentum told him they'd stopped.
The others had apparently decided to pull over and regroup.
Bang.Bang.
Doors opened and shut as the seven mutants climbed out onto the street.
They looked around at each other, worn out and more than a little disoriented. The whole day had felt like a fever dream.
"What a great day to get hunted by a homicidal lunatic," Kraken muttered, shrugging and letting out a tired laugh.
"Yeah, and the worst part?" Darwin added, raising his hands, "That lunatic's probably going to come after us again."
"He took out the entire CIA base. You think they're just gonna let that slide?"
His words cast a somber mood over the group.
"We need answers," Angel said, her expression serious. "Charles and Erik were investigating someone, right? Some mutant? Maybe it's the same guy."
Everyone nodded. Her logic was sound.
The problem was, Charles hadn't told them much, so they were left in the dark.
"What about you, Rorschach?" she asked, turning to him.
The others followed her gaze.
If anyone knew more, it was him.
"I don't know a lot," Rorschach admitted. "Only that his name is Shaw—and he's the one both Charles and the CIA were tracking."
"He's dangerous. But... I think we've all figured that out by now."
He didn't elaborate. Anything Charles hadn't told him explicitly, he kept to himself.
"So all we can do now is wait for Charles and Erik to get back," Hank sighed.
After some discussion, the group came to a quick agreement: find a place to lay low, regroup, and wait for Charles and Erik to return.
But that raised a new problem.
Where could they go?
Nobody had any money.
Despite their powers, most of them were living at the edge of society—dancers, ex-cons, street-level hustlers. Hank was one of the few with a proper job.
Rent for seven people? Not happening.
"Well..." Raven said with a sly smile, "If it's just a temporary shelter, I know a place."
"Oh yeah? Where?"
"Where I grew up."
Half an hour later.
"You're kidding, right?"
"This is the place you grew up in? Raven, this is a damn castle."
The group stood outside Xavier's Manor, staring up at the grand, opulent estate in stunned silence.
"Are you a secret princess or something?" someone muttered.
It was hard to believe this was someone's home. Most of them had never seen a building like this up close, let alone lived in one.
"Professor X is seriously loaded," Rorschach said under his breath—even though he already knew Charles came from wealth.
And that was the truth.
Charles Xavier wasn't just a brilliant telepath—he was also one of the wealthiest individuals in the mutant world. The future X-Mansion, or Mutant Academy, would all be built from this very estate.
The Blackbird jet, Cerebro, high-tech training rooms—none of that came cheap. And though the school was technically an academy, it functioned more like a sanctuary.
No tuition. Free meals. Room and board for mutants in need.
All funded by Charles.
That wasn't just generosity—that was legacy.
"This isn't my home," Raven finally clarified, noticing the stares. "It's Charles's."
That only made everyone more stunned.
They knew Charles had class—his demeanor, his speech, his presence—but this? This was next level.
After everything that had happened—from the attack at the CIA base to their chaotic escape—the entire group was exhausted. Hungry. Mentally drained.
And it was already deep into the night.
So after a few more wide-eyed looks at the mansion, Raven helped everyone get settled.
Each of them was given a room to rest.
Finally, after a day of chaos, silence settled in.
And for the first time in hours, the mutants could breathe.
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