Whoooh... I know what you're thinking, has this shameless author finally found his password...
Well, yes and no... I forgot which Google account I originally used to open this account. Not only that, but my dumbass also forgot the password to the said Google account. But hey, I'm back. But man, it's been so long that I've forgotten some elements of the book.
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Chapter 27: A Buzz to the heart
If there is a God, He's currently sitting in a recliner with a bag of cosmic popcorn, laughing His divine ass off at my expense.
I was sitting in Room 402—the room where dreams go to die and the air smells like floor wax and failed expectations. Detention.
Again. But this wasn't your standard "Leon got caught without pants" detention. This was a "Special Supervision" session.
Across from me sat the reason for my current internal screaming.
She was leaning back in a wooden chair, boots kicked up on the desk, wearing a leather jacket that looked like it had seen more action than any of The Rock's blockbuster movies. Her hair was a wild cascade of brown with two distinct streaks of white at the temples, like she'd been kissed by a blizzard and survived.
Rogue. My "handler."
"You gonna keep starin', sugar, or are you gonna tell me why your left foot is currently vibratin' through the floorboards?" her voice drawled, thick with a Southern honey that felt like it could either soothe a wound or start a fire.
I looked down. She was right. My left sneaker was currently blurring, sinking an inch into the linoleum like the floor was made of lukewarm soup.
"It's a stylistic choice," I grunted, focusing hard on my breathing until my foot solidified with a wet *pop*. "It's called 'The Floor-Sink.' It's the custom Sneakers."
Rogue let out a short, sharp laugh. She didn't move her hands, which were encased in thick, green leather gloves. "You're a piece of work, Leon Walter. Principal Merton told me you were a handful, but she didn't mention you were a walkin' glitch in the matrix."
"I prefer Gifted,'" I retorted, leaning back and trying to look cool. I failed. My chair leg phased through the floor for a microsecond, and I nearly tipped over. "So, what's the deal? You're my babysitter now? You don't look like you're from around here. Unless 'Gothic Southern Belle' is the new trend in Queens."
She lowered her sunglasses, revealing eyes that were sharp, weary, and way too old for high school.
"I'm here because Professor Xavier thinks you're a lightbulb about to pop, and I'm the only one who can catch the glass. My job is to make sure your 'Buzz Buzz'—or whatever you call that mess—doesn't end up levelin' a city block."
"It's a name in progress," I corrected, my ego bristling. "And I've got it under control."
As if the universe heard me and decided to file a formal protest, my shoulder suddenly twitched. A spark of blue static jumped from my skin to a nearby stapler. The stapler immediately vanished.
*Clang.*
It reappeared three seconds later, pinned to the ceiling by a phantom force.
Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Under control, huh? Is that why that stapler is currently havin' an existential crisis on the roof?"
"Look, these things got a mind of their own okay," I muttered, burying my face in my hands. "Look, Rogue—or whatever your name is—I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be a human walking time bomb, and I definitely didn't ask for a handler who looks like she models for a hot goth agency. No offense."
She stood up slowly. There was a grace to her movement that felt predatory. She walked over to my desk, stopping just outside my personal bubble. The air around her felt heavy, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm.
"My name is Anna Marie," she said softly, the playful drawl dropping into something more serious. "And I know what it's like to have a power you didn't ask for. To have a touch that takes instead of gives."
She reached out, her gloved hand hovering an inch from my cheek. I flinched.
"Don't worry," she murmured. "I'm wearin' the gear. But if I take these off, I can drain the fire right out of you. I can make the buzzing stop, Leon. For a while."
I looked up at her. For the first time since the bank heist, the "Lion" jokes and the overall chaos faded. I saw the loneliness in her eyes—the "untouchable" girl meeting the "unstable" boy.
"You want to... drain me?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly. "Is that like a first date thing or...?"
She smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's a safety measure. The Professor wants to see if my mutation can act as a ground wire for your energy. If I can siphon off the 'excess' before you accidentally teleport into a sun."
"Ok now that is a strech," I joked weakly. "But sure. Ground me. I've been grounded by Carol plenty of times, usually for 'accidental property damage.'"
Rogue took a deep breath. She reached for the wrist of her left glove. "This is gonna feel... strange. For both of us."
She peeled back the leather. Her skin was pale, soft, and looked entirely too normal for something that could kill a man. She hesitated. "You ready, sugar?"
"Born ready. Or built ready. Honestly, the jury is still out on that one."
She reached out and pressed two fingers against my bare forearm.
**BOOM.**
It wasn't an explosion. It was a *collapse*.
The moment her skin touched mine, the world didn't just blur—it inverted. I felt a massive, hungry vacuum pull at my chest. It was like she was a straw and I was a cosmic milkshake. But then, the Quantum Seed inside me—the thing Sinister built—didn't just sit there. It *fought back*.
A surge of silver-blue energy erupted from my marrow.
*Buzz* *Buzz!* *BUZZ!!!*
"Agggh!" Rogue gasped, her eyes flying wide.
She didn't just drain my power. She triggered a glitch.
The walls of Room 402 started to ripple like curtains in a breeze. The desks began to float. Rogue's eyes, usually brown, flickered to a glowing silver.
"Leon! Break it off!" she choked out, but she was stuck. The energy was bonding us like spiritual superglue.
I felt her memories—the taste of a girl's first kiss in Mississippi, the cold terror of a winter night, the feeling of a thousand souls screaming in her head. And she felt mine—the white lab, the smell of ozone, the image of Carol's face as I floated in a vat.
"SHIT!" I screamed, focusing every ounce of my will as both my hands latched onto her left arm, gripping it with all my strength.
**SNAP.**
The room vanished.
We weren't in detention anymore. We weren't even in the school.
*Bam!*
"ouch."
I landed face-first on something cold and metallic. Rogue tumbled on top of me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her boobs smothering my face.
"Where... where are we?" she wheezed, pulling her glove back on with trembling hands.
I sat up, rubbing my head. "Well, based on the smell of grease and the fact that we're surrounded by massive fans... I'd say we're in the school's central ventilation hub. Three floors up."
Rogue looked around at the dark, cramped space. She looked back at me, her face pale. "I saw it," she whispered.
"Saw what? My life flashing before my eyes? Hope you didn't see the part of me kissing my aunt." I blurted out but soon smacked my lips. What was I thinking when I said that.
"What?! No," she said, her voice trembling. "I saw the tank, Leon. I saw the man with the diamond on his head. I saw... all of it."
The humor died in my throat. The darkness of the vent felt like it was closing in.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. My left nostril flared.
"You're a bad liar, sugar," she said, leaning against the metal wall. She looked at her gloved hand like it was a weapon. "I've touched a lot of people. Heroes. Villains. Ordinary folks. But you? You felt like... an entire universe tryin' to fit into a thimble."
"I get that a lot. Usually from my tailor."
We sat in silence for a long time, the hum of the school's HVAC system the only sound between us. The tension was thick enough to cut with a kitchen knife.
"Don't tell them," I said suddenly.
"Tell who?"
"Xavier. The X-Men. Anyone. If they know I'm... whatever you saw... they won't look at me like a person. They'll look at me like a science project."
Rogue looked at me, a soft, sad smile touching her lips. "Honey, I'm a girl who can't hug her own mama without puttin' her in a coma. I think I can keep a secret for a fellow freak."
"Thanks, Rogue."
"Don't mention it. Now... how the hell do we get out of here without dyin' of heatstroke?"
I grinned, the familiar buzz returning to my fingertips. "Well, I could try to teleport us back... but last time I did that, I lost my pants. You feeling lucky?"
Rogue groaned. "I think I'll take my chances with the ladder."
As we crawled toward the exit, I didn't notice the small, silver camera drone hovering outside the vent slats.
And miles away, in a room filled with shadows, Roxy sat at a monitor, watching the thermal feed of the two of us. She leaned back, her yellow eyes Narrowing.
"So," she whispered, her skin rippling into blue scales for a brief second. "The Seed has been found. This complicates things."
She picked up a phone.
"Magneto? It's Raven. The X-Men have a lock on him. But I think I know how to break it."
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