With the tour continuing, Storm eventually led him outside toward one of the training fields where students were engaged in physical exercise.
Without inclusion of their powers.
Actual training.
Some were running laps around the field while others tackled obstacle courses. Nearby, several students sparred under supervision while groups worked through strength and agility drills. Sweat, exhaustion, and determination were far more common sights than flashy displays of mutant abilities.
As Billy watched, he noticed something interesting.
A handful of students looked annoyed.
Some wore expressions of mild frustration while others appeared completely uninterested in the exercises they were being put through.
"Wondering about those particular students?" Storm asked suddenly.
Billy nearly stumbled.
Shit.
Can she read minds?
The thought flashed through his head so quickly that he was almost convinced she had somehow heard it. After a second, he settled for giving her a small nod, choosing not to voice that particular concern aloud.
"Those few are some of our more promising students, whose strength stands out even amongst mutants," Storm explained. "The reason they have that look is because of a common misconception. Many young mutants believe their gifts alone are enough."
Billy's thoughts immediately drifted to the people he knew in this world who keep pushing themselves even though they are plenty strong already as images flashed through his mind in rapid succession. Tony was constantly upgrading his Iron Man armor, always finding ways to improve and adapt. Steve made everyone train, regardless of how powerful they were, and had even convinced Bruce to spend time lifting weights. Then there was Natasha, who trained harder than almost anyone Billy had ever met, surpassed only by Steve himself, who approached every workout with the intensity of a man trying to become superhuman through sheer determination.
"They probably think that they could breeze through being a superhero, considering their powerful gifts. That defeating villains would be a piece of cake. But possessing powerful abilities doesn't mean things would be all sunshine and rainbows." Billy said, watching the students with thoughtful eyes.
Storm glanced at him, saying nothing as she allowed him to continue.
"If only they knew that a single moment of weakness, hesitation, or error could cost them the lives of the innocents. The people you're supposed to protect don't care whether you were having an off day. They just need you to be capable when it matters."
His gaze remained fixed on the training grounds as he spoke, his voice carrying a level of certainty uncommon for someone his age.
"Even the strongest heroes can find themselves handicapped or powerless under the right circumstances. Powers aren't always the answer. Sometimes they're taken away. Sometimes they don't work. Sometimes the situation simply demands something else."
Storm regarded him more carefully now. His words carried the weight of experience rather than youthful speculation, and that alone made him stand out in her book.
"That's quite an interesting perspective," she said after a moment. "It's one that many students here fail to see, or simply choose not to acknowledge. You sound like someone who's had firsthand experience with heroism."
Billy's lips curved into a small smile as they continued observing the training session unfolding below.
"You could say that."
"I saw you on the news the other day," Storm said as they continued their walk through the academy grounds. "I assumed you might be at the beginning of your career as a hero. Where were you active before joining up with the Avengers?" She inquired, intentionally ignoring the question of if he was ever active beforehand.
"Not around here, that's for sure," Billy replied with a faint smile. "Somewhere quite far away."
The vague answer wasn't quite satisfying for Storm. She had used the question as an opportunity to learn more about the young hero walking beside her. Considering the power he had displayed during his recent public appearance, it was surprising that someone like him had managed to stay beneath the radar for so long.
Of course, there were plausible explanations. His powers could have manifested recently, or perhaps he had only just stepped into the public eye. Neither possibility was unusual in their line of work. Still, there was something about Billy that made her feel there was more to the story than he was letting on.
Rather than press the issue, Storm chose to let it rest for now and redirected the conversation toward the lesson she had originally intended to teach.
She guided his attention toward a nearby sparring field where several students were engaged in hand-to-hand combat. There were no powers involved, no flashy displays of mutant abilities—just skill, discipline, and technique being tested against one another.
"Power without discipline creates dependence," Storm said as they watched a student narrowly avoid being swept off their feet. "And dependence creates weakness."
Billy nodded immediately. It was a lesson Natasha and Steve had hammered into him countless times. They never allowed anyone to rely solely on their abilities, no matter how powerful those abilities might be.
Seeing that he understood her point, Storm continued.
"If, for some unforeseen reason, you woke up tomorrow unable to access your powers..." She paused, allowing the question to settle before finishing. "Who are you then?"
Unbeknownst to her, the words struck Billy far harder than they would most mutants.
For mutants, their powers were an extension of who they were, woven into their very biology through the X-Gene. Billy's situation was different. His powers were extraordinary, but they weren't truly his in the same way. There were circumstances—however unlikely—where they could be taken from him.
For a brief moment, the question lingered in his thoughts longer than he cared to admit.
Having unknowingly given him plenty to think about, Storm led him away from the sparring grounds and toward another section of the academy.
The atmosphere shifted as they approached a large training field dedicated to power development. Flying mutants darted through what appeared to be an aerial obstacle course, weaving between suspended rings and barriers with varying levels of success. Nearby, another group worked through teamwork exercises, coordinating their abilities to solve simulated combat and rescue scenarios.
As Storm and Billy stood observing the students under the guidance of several instructors—many of whom Billy immediately recognized as X-Men—their conversation continued at a relaxed pace.
What neither of them paid much attention to, however, was the growing number of curious glances being directed their way.
Students had already begun taking notice of the unfamiliar boy casually walking around campus beside Storm.
And for a school filled with curious teenagers, that kind of sight was impossible to ignore.
New faces being given a tour of the school was hardly an unusual sight. Xavier's Academy regularly welcomed new students, and most of the time those students were shown around by faculty members or even Professor Xavier himself. What was unusual, however, was seeing Storm acting as the tour guide.
That alone was enough to draw attention.
Many students knew that Professor Xavier usually handled introductions personally whenever possible. He always made an effort to show newcomers that the academy was more than just a school—it was a sanctuary, a place where mutants could feel safe and accepted. Storm occasionally helped, of course, but seeing her devote this much personal attention to someone immediately sparked curiosity.
Naturally, whispers began to spread.
A handful of students already recognized Billy from recent events. News traveled fast around the academy, and students were experts at sharing anything remotely interesting. Whether it was something they had seen, overheard, or been told by someone else, information had a way of spreading through the student body until everyone knew at least a little about the latest topic of discussion.
"Heard he's multi-powered," one student casually remarked while watching Billy from across the field.
"Is he now?" his friend replied, a hint of curiosity entering his voice as his eyes followed the pair.
At that moment, Storm excused herself, apparently needing to deal with something that required her immediate attention. She left Billy waiting near the edge of the training grounds, alone for what would likely be only a few minutes.
For one student, however, that was more than enough of an opportunity.
He approached Billy with measured steps, trying to appear casual despite the fact that he had been staring for the past several minutes.
"Hey, so what's your mutation?" he asked.
The question might have sounded innocent enough, but there was more behind it than simple curiosity. The student had long admired Storm. Somewhere along the way, that admiration had quietly evolved into a crush he would never openly admit to. Watching her smile while talking to Billy and personally showing him around the academy had stirred up emotions he knew were completely unreasonable, yet felt nonetheless.
Billy blinked.
'Someone forgot how to use a simple "hi" or even a basic "hello,"' he thought dryly as he lampooned in a self-deprecating manner.
Then he paused.
He wasn't entirely sure where the phrase lampooned had come from, but his brain had apparently decided to use it anyway.
After a brief silence brought on by the unexpected question, Billy pieced together what the student was actually asking.
"Honestly... that's kind of complicated."
The answer earned a raised eyebrow from the other boy.
Complicated wasn't exactly the response he had been expecting.
Before he could press for clarification, however, a voice cut across the training grounds.
"Get back here!"
The shout came from the instructor whose lesson the student had quietly wandered away from.
The boy winced immediately.
Apparently, his little investigation had not gone unnoticed.
Throwing Billy an apologetic look, he quickly turned and jogged back toward the training field before the instructor decided to make an example out of him.
As the student reluctantly returned to his training, Storm made her way back to Billy's side.
"Unfortunately, Professor Xavier won't be able to join us after all," she informed him. "Something came up that requires his attention."
Billy nodded in understanding.
"Running a community as impressive as this can't leave much room in a schedule for what some might consider trivialities," he replied.
Before Storm could respond, a sudden series of beeps drew both of their attention. The sound originated from a sleek black wrist accessory wrapped around Billy's arm.
He raised his wrist slightly.
"Incoming call from Bruce," Fred, his AI butler, announced in a calm, professional tone.
Storm watched with quiet curiosity as Billy went through the familiar routine.
"Accept."
A moment later, Bruce's voice came through the device.
"Bill, meet me at Hank's lab as soon as you can."
"Got it," Billy replied without hesitation.
The communication ended almost as quickly as it had begun.
"Sorry, I have to, um..." Billy gestured vaguely toward the wrist device, referring to the call Storm had just overheard.
Storm smiled faintly.
"That's perfectly fine. We've covered most of what I wanted to show you anyway."
Together, they began walking toward Hank's laboratory. The route took them through another section of the academy grounds, giving Storm one final opportunity to leave Billy with what she considered the most important lesson of the tour.
"The world often fears what it doesn't understand," she began, her voice thoughtful as they walked. "Many of these children have experienced that fear firsthand. Some have been rejected, isolated, or treated as though there was something wrong with them simply because they were different."
Her gaze drifted toward a group of students training in the distance.
"Here, they're allowed to be themselves. Before anything else, this academy is their home."
Billy remained silent for a moment, considering her words. He could hear the conviction behind them. This wasn't just a school to Storm or the other X-Men. It was a refuge. A place built for children who had nowhere else to belong.
By the time they reached Hank's laboratory, voices could already be heard from inside.
Storm and Billy stepped through the entrance to find Bruce and Hank engaged in what appeared to be a surprisingly animated debate. Neither man seemed to notice their arrival immediately, both too focused on whatever point they were trying to prove.
More interestingly, it sounded suspiciously like some kind of wager had become involved.
Billy glanced between the two scientists before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Men of science by day, gambling men whenever the opportunity presents itself," he remarked casually as he entered the room. "I like that."
The comment immediately drew both Bruce's and Hank's attention as Billy looked between them expectantly.
"So," he said, folding his arms, "what's this about?"
"Bruce here theorizes that the creature you fought on the streets of Queens the other day might be an alien," Hank explained, shedding some light on the discussion. "While I maintain that it's far more likely to be a lifeform created through some form of advanced bioengineering."
Standing nearby, Storm maintained a neutral expression as she listened to the debate. Internally, however, she couldn't help but note how invested the two men had become in the subject. Then again, neither Bruce nor Hank had ever been the type to shy away from a mystery, especially one involving an unknown creature rampaging through New York.
"What if it's neither?"
Billy's voice cut into the discussion, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
Three pairs of eyes settled on him.
Neither scientist needed to ask him to elaborate. The look on their faces alone made it clear they expected him to continue. Even Storm found herself curious. Out of everyone present, Billy was the only one who had actually fought the creature firsthand.
Billy glanced between the two scientists before spreading his hands slightly.
"My dear scientists," he began with a hint of amusement in his voice, "it seems you've both failed to consider the possibility that it could be a creature created by magic... or perhaps one conjured through it."
The room fell briefly silent.
"Of course I considered that possibility," Bruce replied after a moment. "But we're scientists. We exhaust every conventional explanation before concluding that magic is involved."
Hank nodded in agreement.
Bruce's reasoning wasn't without merit. After all, even with the recent incidents involving the monsters attacking the city, the scientific method remained their first instinct. Though Bruce distinctly remembered what Doctor Strange had said regarding the attacks. Magic had very much been a factor in those events, and both the Avengers and X-Men had firsthand experience dealing with creatures that defied conventional explanations.
Storm, meanwhile, found herself focusing on something else entirely.
Billy had mentioned magic so casually, as though it were just another possibility sitting alongside aliens and genetic engineering. For most people, it would have sounded out of place. The discussion had been rooted firmly in science-fiction territory, yet Billy had introduced magic into the conversation without a trace of hesitation.
That alone caught her attention.
"It could also be a creature that somehow found its way here from Hell," Storm offered thoughtfully.
The suggestion caused Bruce to shift his gaze toward her.
"You mean a demon?" he asked for clarification.
Storm met his eyes for a moment before giving a small shrug.
"Possibly."
The single word was all she offered.
There was enough certainty in her tone to suggest she wasn't speaking entirely hypothetically, but she clearly had no intention of elaborating further. Whatever experiences had led her to consider such a possibility, she seemed content to keep them to herself.
For a moment, the room settled into thoughtful silence.
Alien.
Bioengineered lifeform.
Magical construct.
Demon.
The list of possibilities somehow felt equally ridiculous and completely reasonable given the world they lived in.
"Anyway..." Hank said, steering the conversation back on course before it wandered any further into speculation and supernatural theories.
Turning his attention fully to Billy, the scientist leaned forward slightly with obvious interest.
"Tell me more about this monster. As disturbing as it looked, I can't help but be fascinated by it."
Hank had already reviewed the available footage multiple times, but recorded video could only reveal so much. There was a world of difference between observing a creature through a screen and hearing a firsthand account from someone who had fought it up close. If there were details the cameras had missed, Billy was the most likely person to provide them.
Billy shrugged before indulging the inquiry.
As he began recounting the encounter, the room gradually fell silent. Hank listened with the focused attention of a scientist hoping to piece together possible clues. Bruce remained equally attentive, occasionally narrowing his eyes whenever Billy mentioned a detail that aligned—or conflicted—with his own theories. Even Storm found herself listening closely despite having originally intended to leave once the tour concluded.
Billy described the creature's appearance, its behavior, the way it moved, and how it reacted during the fight. He recalled the unsettling aspects that footage failed to properly capture—the unnatural mannerisms, the disturbing physical details, and the overall feeling that something about the creature simply wasn't right.
The more he described it, the more invested his audience became.
- - -
Meanwhile, several miles away, Hawkeye arrived at his scheduled rendezvous with his longtime friend, Phil Coulson.
The veteran S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was already waiting for him.
With Nick Fury's disappearance continuing to loom over every investigation, neither man could afford to ignore potential leads. According to Coulson, he had come across information that might prove useful. Whether it was an actual clue connected to Fury's whereabouts or merely an unrelated dead end remained to be seen.
That uncertainty was precisely why they were meeting.
Experience had taught both men that investigations rarely succeeded because of obvious breakthroughs. More often than not, the critical piece of information was buried beneath layers of seemingly insignificant details. Something dismissed as trivial today could easily turn out to be the missing link tomorrow.
For that reason alone, they intended to examine every angle before deciding whether Coulson's discovery was worth pursuing further.