"You utter fraud! Release me immediately! I swear I'll rip that smug look from your face!" Logan's roar was muffled and strained, echoing with the deep humiliation of a predator ensnared by a seemingly flimsy trap.
Suspended helplessly in Zhou Yi's potent telekinetic field, his adamantium claws scraped uselessly at the invisible barrier surrounding him. Logan, a near-immortal warrior accustomed to surviving any conceivable scenario, had rarely felt such a profound sense of impotent rage.
Jean Grey watched the spectacle with a familiar, weary sigh. The scene was an almost exact psychic replay of her conflict with Scott, only this time the stakes were higher, and the combatant infinitely more dangerous.
Logan's raw, animalistic energy was becoming a psychic pollutant in the room—a distress signal that would draw unnecessary attention. She had to shut it down, but she wouldn't allow Logan to be completely broken by this display of dominance.
"Yi, that's enough. The point is not just made, it's been permanently etched into the poor man's psyche," Jean interjected, her mental voice carrying a precise command that cut through the volatile tension.
"What possible strategic value is there in continuing this blatant demonstration of superiority? The psychic strain alone is unnecessary."
Zhou Yi, however, refused to relent immediately. "Strain? Jean, you know that Logan thrives on pain and confrontation; it's his default state of being. You asked me to protect a student from a threat of global magnitude, and in doing so, I find myself accosted by a feral element of your security detail. I did not initiate this engagement, but I assure you, I will finish it on my terms. I am, in a profound sense, the real victim here, burdened by your request and his aggression."
He maintained the telekinetic grip for another five heartbeats, purely for emphasis, before he finally yielded under Jean's insistent psychic presence. He gently, almost disdainfully, lowered Logan to the ground, controlling his descent with absolute precision.
The moment his feet touched the floor, Logan exploded forward, his body taut with the intent to re-engage the fight, driven by the instinct to avenge the insult.
But before he could take a second step, Jean's own formidable telekinetic power snapped around him, a firmer, more controlled web that halted his motion without the crushing weight of Zhou Yi's force.
"No," Jean commanded, her eyes blazing with crimson light, imposing a fierce, undeniable mental discipline.
"Your emotional turbulence is contaminating the entire sector, Logan. I need you to regain control. I cannot focus on stabilizing your emotional state with him standing here, actively provoking you. Yi, you must leave immediately."
Zhou Yi nodded, understanding the strategic pivot. Jean was ensuring his dominance was acknowledged while restoring her own authority within the Academy's walls. He grabbed his tailored jacket.
"As you wish, my dearest Jean," he conceded with a charming, deferential smile, one that was intentionally aimed at further infuriating the immobilized Logan.
"Since I am currently banned from pursuing my primary objective, I suppose I'll have to fulfill my secondary commitment. I shall tutor your impressionable young wards on the finer points of reality."
He paused at the door, glancing at the struggling Logan one last time. "If Ororo returns, be sure to alert me immediately. And Jean, for your sake, maintain that tight grip. That one clearly lacks a sense of proportion." With that final, calculated jab, Zhou Yi pushed the door open and stepped out, the air instantly feeling lighter in the aftermath of his exit.
Zhou Yi found the designated classroom and paused, taking a moment to adjust the collar of his shirt and smooth his hair—a necessary preparation before confronting a room full of intensely perceptive, highly anxious teenagers.
He opened the door and walked to the front of the room, instantly commanding attention not through sheer physical power, but through an aura of effortless, undeniable authority.
"Good morning, everyone," he announced, his voice carrying the resonant authority of someone accustomed to addressing boardrooms, not classrooms.
"Your teacher, Miss Grey, has been detained by some minor institutional matters, so I shall be substituting for this period." He glanced at the textbook visible on a nearby desk. "Ah, Applied Behavioral Psychology. Excellent. A field where I have considerable, practical expertise."
A wave of astonished whispers rippled through the students. The familiar faces of Sharice and her friends, who had witnessed his abrupt arrival that morning, were the most surprised, exchanging disbelieving glances.
Most notably, John, the young mutant whose powers he had so recently humiliated, sat unnervingly straight, his posture a mixture of perfect discipline and strange, burning fanaticism, his eyes glued to Zhou Yi.
"Settle down, boys and girls," Zhou Yi instructed, clapping his hands together once, a sharp, decisive sound.
"Especially you, Sharice. Your European vacation is still pending official approval; no need to escalate your excitement levels prematurely." He smiled briefly at his sister before turning back to the class.
"Could one of you inform me of the precise topic Miss Grey was covering last session? My impromptu lecture requires context."
The silence stretched, broken only by John, who seized the opportunity with unsettling eagerness. "Sir, Miss Grey was asking us to evaluate the impact of baseline human psychology on the living conditions of the mutant community."
"An excellent and relevant starting point. Thank you, young man," Zhou Yi said, acknowledging John with a brief, detached nod. He then perched casually on the edge of the large wooden podium, taking control of the space.
"Let's begin my part of the lesson with a necessary introduction. My name is Zhou Yi. I am, as some of you already know, Sharice's older brother. Years ago, I underwent comprehensive medical screening to enter this facility—and I can confirm, I am definitively not a mutant."
The revelation unleashed a wave of electric energy, the students buzzing with raw surprise. A non-mutant, not only in their private academy but actively teaching their class, and one who was family to one of their own? It defied the protective isolation of their world.
Zhou Yi waited patiently, allowing the energy to run its course before he clapped his hands again, demanding silence.
"Before you dismiss me as some irrelevant human figurehead, you must understand my true identity in the macrocosm of human society. The identity of Sharice's brother is merely a pleasant social construct to bridge the gap between us. The identity that truly matters—the one that governs your very existence—is quite different."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room, ensuring he had the undivided attention of every young mutant.
"I am a Principal Shareholder in Stark Industries, controlling one of the largest private venture capital portfolios in the world. I am a key decision-maker and strategic investor in over two dozen publicly traded multinational corporations, including Osborn Industries. I own massive tracts of technological infrastructure, numerous cutting-edge research facilities, and, yes, I even own a baseball team, the Colorado Rockies. I mention the team only as a testament to my occasional, high-priced whimsical failures."
The room was utterly silent now. The students, conditioned to see the world in terms of raw power and genetic difference, were instead confronted with a display of corporate, financial, and political power that fundamentally controlled the very world they struggled against. His words were not a boast; they were an irrefutable statement of fact. .
"I am not telling you this to show off," Zhou Yi continued, his tone softening only slightly.
"I am past the age of needing to impress teenagers. I am establishing my qualification to speak. The path of human society—the direction of policy, the allocation of resources, and ultimately, the consensus on whether to tolerate or eliminate your kind—is not, despite the comfortable myths you've been taught, in the hands of the electorate. It is in the hands of people exactly like me."
He paused for dramatic effect, allowing the profound weight of this reality to sink in.
"We, the principal shareholders, the venture capitalists, the chief lobbyists, and the political strategists, are the ones who establish the terms of social contract. We represent the consensus of capital, and capital dictates policy. I can sit down with any world leader and have a calm, rational discussion about the immediate future of this country. Therefore, my perspective on mutants represents the true, unvarnished opinion of the people who actually run the world."
Zhou Yi then launched into the core of his lecture. "So, are you curious what we see when we look at you? The answer is incredibly simple, and profoundly disheartening to those seeking philosophical acceptance."
"To us, in the cold, calculated calculus of business and state stability, mutants are no different from anyone else. If you require money to survive, if you consume, if you contribute to the overall GDP, and if you can be safely contained and accounted for, you are, for all practical purposes, ordinary citizens."
He surveyed the stunned faces, noticing Sharice looking at him with an expression of complicated pride and apprehension.
"Then why are your lives currently a political and social nightmare? Why is the world terrified of you? The problem is not philosophical. The problem is two-fold, and it exists entirely within your own actions and public perception."
He tapped his index finger sharply against the podium, enunciating the first flaw.
"The first problem is Difference. You possess powers that defy the established conventions of physics and public order. This difference is not merely a genetic novelty; it is a variable that cannot be controlled or quantified. We don't fear you; we fear the unknown you represent. We fear the potential cost of your power, and the catastrophic loss if that power turns against the very infrastructure we fund and protect."
He then lifted his hand, preparing to deliver the final point, the second, and arguably, the most fatal flaw.
"The second problem—the one that actually drives the fear and the legislation—is Reputation."
Before he could elaborate, a sudden, piercing clamor erupted from the grounds below. It was a cacophony of raised voices, a sudden, frantic, and chaotic sound that suggested an unexpected, violent confrontation had just occurred.
The students instantly recoiled, their faces shifting from intellectual curiosity to familiar, deeply ingrained fear.
Zhou Yi pressed his hand down, urging silence with a silent, commanding gesture, but he allowed the noise to continue, emphasizing its relevance.
"You hear that?" he asked, his voice cutting through the noise. "That chaos, that disruption, is precisely what I am referring to. You are listening to a live, unscripted demonstration of bad reputation."
He fixed his gaze on John, whose face was a mixture of excitement and indignation.
"Some of you might assume that I was lying earlier. You might believe the human world is entirely prejudiced. I assure you, I am not lying. But do you want to know why your lives have become a living hell, despite my assurance? It is because of the reputation created by others—the ones who believe that chaos, not cooperation, is the only answer."
"The second problem is the legacy of aggression. Mutants who choose violence—the terrorists, the anarchists, the destroyers. They are the ones who define the entire species in the human mind. The actions of one man who builds a floating city of metal, or commits an act of spectacular destruction, immediately override the quiet, peaceful existence of ten thousand others. Your fight is not with us; your fight is with the reputation established by the most volatile elements of your own kind."
He paused, the clamor outside refusing to subside. "And unless that reputation is irrevocably changed, or those volatile elements are permanently removed, you will never find peace."