Fracture || Xmen

8

"Concentrate, Loren." Xavier's voice carries encouragement that does nothing but grate on my nerves today.

"Does it look like I'm trying to win a staring contest with a Coke can for fun?" I snap, my frustration building as I glare at the unyielding aluminum object in front of me. The morning had barely started, and here I was in my second period of the day— Individual Powers Training— which I've now been blessed to attend daily instead of the standard twice a week. Xavier's reasoning? It would "suit" me better. Translation: He's probably worried I'll accidentally detonate something— or someone—if left unsupervised for too long.

The room is silent except for the occasional scribble of notes from Xavier as he observes my lack of progress. "Your focus determines your reality, Loren," he continues, unfazed by my snark. "Harnessing your energy requires more than just raw power; it requires precision and intent."

Only days ago, Xavier had labeled my power as 'destructive telekinesis,' explaining with clinical precision. "Molecular Disassembly" he had said, "enables you to tear apart matter by disrupting its molecular bonds, resulting in disintegrative effects," He leaned forward, his gaze focused, as he laid out the possibilities of my abilities. "While it primarily allows for deconstruction, I believe that with proper training, you could also achieve molecular assembly— essentially rebuilding what you've broken down." Here I am now, days later, fixated on a simple aluminum can that stubbornly refuses to budge.

"Great, maybe I should just intend harder," I mutter sarcastically under my breath. My eyes, laser-focused on the can, will it to move, but despite my intense concentration and Xavier's guidance, the can sits immovably on the desk, mocking me with its inanimate defiance.

Xavier wheels closer, a thoughtful expression creasing his wrinkled face. "You have immense potential, Loren. But potential without control is like a wildfire— destructive and indiscriminate."

"Sounds about right," I quip, but a part of me knots at his words. Wildfire. Uncontrolled. Destructive. Words that had often been tossed around by those who'd rather see me locked up or dead.

As I refocus on the can, trying to find and channel whatever surge may be bubbling within, I hear the faint shuffle of footsteps outside Xavier's office. My concentration breaks as the door swings open, revealing none other than that optimistic pest, his trademark grin ever present on his face as if he's about to crack a joke at my expense.

"Hey, Professor X, hope I'm not interrupting," Leo chimes in, his eyes quickly darting to me with a glimmer of amusement. It feels almost mocking, him being able to find some kind of light even in my situation. My irritation flares as memories of our encounter in the kitchen last week start flooding back. Ever since then, I had managed to avoid him in any way I could. Pretending he wouldn't exist in each of the classes I shared with him, looking right though him whenever I encountered him in the hallways, and whenever I saw him sitting at that lone table in the cafeteria, I would head out and dine in my room until the next period, which also happened to be the only class I had difficulty ignoring him in since fate cruelly planted my seat right next to him. Thankfully, he would give up on trying to strike conversation, but just his presence was enough to spike my blood pressure.

Xavier regards him with a nod of acknowledgement, his expression remaining neutral. "Not at all, Leo. We're actually just wrapping up our session. Loren, why don't you take a short break? Sometimes stepping away can clear your mind."

As Xavier and Leo exchange some quick, probably 'important' mentor-student banter, I push back from the table and give the unscathed Coke one last glare. A break? What I really need is a break from all this freak training and a serious dive into something less taxing, a pile of Oreos. Food always makes sense, unlike this mutant chaos I've been dragged into.