"Alright, let's go."
After settling the situation, Storm gave Liam a small nod and gestured for him to follow. Liam offered the girls one last easy smile before turning and walking alongside her, his expression relaxed as if nothing significant had just happened.
The moment they disappeared down the corridor, the atmosphere behind them exploded into chatter.
"Did you see that? Wes just wrecked John in one move!"
"I didn't even see him do anything—John just touched him and boom!"
"That means he's way stronger than John now, right?"
"Stronger? Please, he could probably beat him with one hand!"
The excitement spread like wildfire. More students gathered as the story was retold again and again, each version becoming more exaggerated than the last. Within minutes, the entire academy had heard the news.
By the time it reached its peak, the story had transformed into something almost ridiculous.
Apparently, Liam had defeated John with a single finger.
At the same time, Liam followed Storm into a large laboratory deep within the academy. The space was wide and brightly lit, filled with specialized equipment designed to analyze and measure mutant abilities. Screens, sensors, and reinforced testing areas lined the room, giving it a distinctly clinical feel.
"Stand here," Storm instructed, guiding him toward a marked section in the center.
They began with basic physical evaluations.
Strength, reaction speed, endurance—standard metrics used to establish a baseline. To Storm's mild surprise, Liam's physical condition was already above average compared to most students. It wasn't extreme, but it was clearly better than before.
After that, Jean Grey joined them.
She prepared a syringe, intending to draw a blood sample for further analysis. However, the moment she attempted to insert the needle, something unexpected happened.
The needle stopped.
It didn't bend or break—it simply couldn't penetrate.
Jean frowned slightly, adjusting her grip and trying again with a different angle.
Still nothing.
"Liam," she said gently, her tone patient, "try to relax and turn off your ability for a moment."
Liam gave an awkward smile.
"I'd like to," he replied, sounding a bit helpless, "but I can't seem to switch it off."
Jean paused, then glanced at Storm.
"Well… that complicates things."
Storm considered it for a second before nodding.
"Alright. We'll postpone the blood test," she decided. "Let's focus on ability testing for now."
Liam suppressed the slight upward curve of his lips.
That worked out perfectly.
A blood sample was far too risky. If anyone started digging too deeply, there was no telling what they might uncover. In the worst case, he could end up being treated like a research subject—or worse, something like Wolverine, whose genes had been exploited repeatedly.
No, avoiding that was the smarter move.
"Let's begin with force reflection," Storm said, shifting back into a professional tone. "Starting at one hundred kilograms."
Liam stepped into position as instructed.
Moments later, a large metal sphere was launched toward him. It moved with considerable speed, carrying the force equivalent of a hundred kilograms.
Liam didn't even bother adjusting his stance.
He barely looked at it.
In fact, he yawned.
The instant the sphere made contact with his body, it rebounded violently, shooting backward as if it had struck an immovable wall.
Storm's eyes flickered slightly.
That… was effortless.
"A hundred kilograms is nothing," Liam thought casually. "Feels like it barely registers."
Theoretically, vector manipulation didn't have a strict upper limit when it came to reflection. As long as he could handle it, any force could be redirected.
Of course, that didn't mean he was limitless.
Right now, his ability still had a ceiling—it just wasn't clear where that ceiling was.
"Next—two hundred kilograms," Storm said.
Then three hundred.
Then four.
The weight increased steadily, each test more intense than the last.
And yet, nothing changed.
Liam remained completely unfazed.
By the time they reached five hundred kilograms, he was already starting to lose interest.
"Professor Ororo," he said, glancing at her, "this is kind of slow. Why don't we just jump to one ton?"
Storm paused, clearly surprised.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah," Liam replied calmly. "So far, this just feels like light pressure."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"…Alright."
The next sphere came in heavier, faster.
One ton.
Liam raised a single hand this time, palm open.
The moment it struck, the result was the same.
Instant deflection.
The sphere shot backward with even greater force, leaving no impact behind.
Liam lowered his hand slightly, expression unchanged.
"Still too light," he said. "Let's try five tons."
Storm hesitated for a fraction of a second, then proceeded.
Five tons.
Ten tons.
Twenty tons.
Each increase pushed the equipment closer to its limits.
Each time, Liam remained completely unaffected.
There was no strain in his posture, no tightening of his muscles, not even a shift in his footing. It was as if the incoming force simply didn't exist to him.
By the time they reached one hundred tons, Storm had stopped speaking entirely.
The data scrolling across the monitors told the story clearly enough.
And yet, Liam still looked… bored.
"Alright," Storm said finally, regaining her composure. "We'll move on to energy reflection."
They relocated to another section of the lab.
This time, the tests involved controlled bursts of fire, electrical discharges, and simulated storm energy. Unlike physical objects, energy-based attacks were more complex. Reflection wasn't guaranteed.
At least, for most mutants.
The results came back quickly.
Every form of energy—redirected.
Cleanly.
Effortlessly.
Jean watched the readings with widening eyes, while Storm stared at the data in silence, processing what she was seeing.
By the time the tests concluded, the numbers spoke for themselves.
Based on current estimates, Liam could reflect physical impacts exceeding one thousand tons. In addition, he showed complete resistance to various forms of energy—electricity, flames, and even storm-based forces.
Storm exhaled slowly, lowering the tablet in her hands.
"For now," she said, "we'll classify you as a Level Three mutant."
It was a conservative estimate.
The test had been unprepared, and there were too many unknown variables to make a definitive judgment. A more detailed evaluation would be required later.
Still, even this provisional rating carried weight.
Most mutants never surpassed Level One or Two.
Level Three was already rare.
Level Four? Even rarer.
And Level Five…
That was a category reserved for beings who could alter the world itself.
Liam nodded slightly.
He didn't object.
From their perspective, the classification made sense.
From his perspective, it didn't matter.
Among Level Three mutants, he was already untouchable.
Even Level Four wouldn't necessarily be enough to deal with him—especially abilities like telepathy, which had already proven ineffective.
"Alright," Storm said, setting the device aside. "That's enough for today."
She gave him a small, approving nod.
"You're free to go."
Liam didn't waste time. With a casual wave, he turned and left the laboratory, his steps light and unhurried.
Behind him, Storm and Jean exchanged a brief look.
Then, without another word, they gathered the test results and headed straight for Professor Xavier.