Chapter 104

From reading the comments. A lot of people want Ryuki to be in MHA. Amazon is 2nd, but after considering it. Amazon would be fine in the initial story of MHA but would lack power in the later arcs unless I create an original power-up for Amazon. W or Build is almost perfect to fit in MHA, power, and character-wise, but fewer people voted for them.

I'm considering Ryuki. Tell me if I should make the MC in 1-A class and follow class 1-A story closely, or make him an adult journalist and become a vigilante while trying to uncover the mystery of Mirror Monsters. I'm leaning more toward the latter, which would be closer to Shinji's personality in the Kamen Rider Ryuki series. The story won't be Kamen Riders fighting each other for a wish like in the original. I never did like that concept. Instead, the MC would be collecting Contract Monsters while fighting Mirror Monsters and figuring out their origins.

Leave a comment for your thoughts.

***

In the grand halls of Congress, the air was thick with tension as Senator Robert Kelly stood before the assembled legislators, his unwavering gaze sweeping across the room. This was the moment he had been working towards – the chance to convince his fellow lawmakers of the dire necessity of the Mutant Registration Act.

"My colleagues," Kelly began, his voice resonant and commanding, "we can no longer afford to ignore the growing threat posed by mutants in our society." He paused, allowing his words to sink in, his expression grave.

"These individuals, with their extraordinary abilities, represent a clear and present danger to the safety and well-being of our citizens." Kelly's hands gestured emphatically as he spoke, his eyes narrowing with conviction.

"The Mutant Registration Act is not about persecution or discrimination," he continued, his tone firm. "It is about taking responsible, necessary steps to identify and monitor these individuals, ensuring that their powers are not misused or abused."

Kelly turned, pacing the length of the podium, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the congress members. "We have a duty to protect our people, to safeguard our way of life. The Mutant Registration Act will give us the tools we need to do so – to keep our communities secure and our children safe."

Senator Kelly's words hung in the air, his gaze sweeping the room, daring anyone to challenge him. The congress members shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances as they considered the implications of the Mutant Registration Act.

Suddenly, a voice rang out, clear and resolute. "Senator Kelly, with all due respect, your proposal is nothing more than thinly veiled discrimination."

All eyes turned to the woman who had spoken – Jean Grey, a respected member of the science community, known for her work in the field of mutation.

"Mutants are not inherently dangerous," Jean continued, her expression earnest. "They are our neighbors, our colleagues, our friends. Many use their abilities to help others, to make the world a better place."

Kelly's brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Ms. Grey, you speak of mutants as if they are no different from the rest of us. But the fact remains that their powers make them a threat that cannot be ignored."

"A threat?" Jean's voice rose, her eyes flashing with conviction. "Or an opportunity? Mutants possess the potential to revolutionize our world, to push the boundaries of what's possible. Shouldn't we be embracing that potential, rather than trying to suppress it?"

The congress members murmured, some nodding in agreement, others shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Kelly opened his mouth to respond, but Jean pressed on.

"Senator, I implore you to reconsider your position. The Mutant Registration Act will only serve to divide us further, to create a climate of fear and mistrust. Isn't it time we move beyond such narrow-minded thinking and embrace the diversity that makes our society strong?"

Senator Kelly's brow furrowed deeper, his jaw tightening as Jean Grey's words echoed through the chamber. He raised a hand, silencing the murmurs that had rippled through the gathered lawmakers.

"Ms. Grey, I appreciate your passion, but you fail to grasp the true danger we face." Kelly's voice was laced with a barely contained intensity. "The abilities of these mutants are far beyond what the average citizen can comprehend."

Reaching into his jacket, Kelly produced a stack of papers, each page bearing the grainy image and detailed profile of an individual. "Take a look at this list," he said, his gaze sweeping the room. "These are just a handful of the mutants we've identified – and the powers they possess are nothing short of terrifying."

Kelly's fingers flipped through the pages, pausing to highlight certain details. "One can control metal with a mere thought, bending steel like putty. Another can walk through solid walls as if they were mere illusions." His voice lowered to a grave tone. "And then there's the telepath – capable of infiltrating the mind, manipulating thoughts and memories, even rendering us helpless with a single mental command."

The congress members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, the weight of Kelly's words settling upon them. Jean Grey's expression remained resolute, though a flicker of concern crossed her features.

"These are not mere curiosities, Ms. Grey," Kelly continued, his gaze boring into her. "These are individuals with the power to bring our entire society crashing down. The Mutant Registration Act is not about persecution – it's about protecting our way of life, our very existence, from those who would seek to destroy it."

Senator Robert Kelly's words hung in the air, his gaze sweeping across the assembled congress members. The weight of his arguments seemed to have struck a chord, as the lawmakers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their expressions a mix of unease and uncertainty.

"My friends," Kelly continued, his tone softening ever so slightly, "I know that what I'm proposing may seem harsh, even draconian, to some of you. But I implore you to look beyond the surface, to see the true necessity of the Mutant Registration Act."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "We live in a world where the impossible has become reality. Individuals with unimaginable powers walk among us, their abilities a constant threat to the stability and security we hold dear."

Kelly's voice rose, his conviction palpable. "How can we, in good conscience, ignore the dangers they pose? How can we sit idly by while they wield their powers, unchecked and unchallenged?"

He leaned forward, his gaze sweeping the room. "The Mutant Registration Act is not about oppression or discrimination. It is about responsible oversight, about ensuring that these individuals, these mutants, are held accountable for their actions. It is about protecting our children, our families, our very way of life."

A hush fell over the chamber as Kelly's speech came to a close. For a moment, the only sound was the quiet shuffling of papers and the occasional clearing of a throat.

Then, slowly, the sound of applause began to build, starting from a smattering of hands and growing into a thunderous ovation. Kelly stood, his expression stoic, as the congress members rose to their feet, their faces a mix of agreement and reluctant acceptance.

Jean Grey, seated among the lawmakers, felt a sense of defeat wash over her. She had tried, with all her conviction, to sway the minds of her peers, to appeal to their sense of reason and compassion. But it seemed that Kelly's words, laced with fear and the promise of security, had won the day.

Her brow furrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. How could they so easily dismiss the humanity of mutants, their potential to be a force for good? She knew, deep in her heart, that the Mutant Registration Act would only serve to further marginalize and oppress those she held dear.

...

Jean exited the congress hall, her steps heavy with a sense of defeat. The applause still echoed in her mind, a hollow sound that mocked her failed attempts to sway the lawmakers. As she made her way through the bustling corridors, she couldn't help but feel a deep frustration at the willful ignorance of those who had chosen fear over reason.

Turning a corner, Jean found herself face-to-face with Professor Charles Xavier. His brow was creased with concern, and his eyes held a gentle empathy that immediately put Jean at ease.

"I'm sorry, Jean," Xavier said, his voice soft and soothing. "I know how much you wanted to make them understand."

Jean nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I tried, Professor, but they were so quick to dismiss our humanity, to see us as nothing more than a threat to be controlled."

Xavier placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch reassuring. "I know, my dear. But you did your best, and that is all anyone can ask of you."

Jean's eyes glistened with unshed tears, the weight of her failure heavy on her heart. "I feel like I haven't done enough. There must be a way to reach them, to show them that we're not the enemy."

Xavier's expression was one of deep understanding. "Change is never easy, Jean. But we must continue to fight, to show them the truth of who we are. With patience and perseverance, we will prevail."

Jean pushed Professor Xavier's wheelchair, the soft hum of the motor echoing in the quiet hallway. Suddenly, Xavier raised his hand, signaling her to stop.

"I sense a familiar presence," Xavier said, his brow furrowing with concentration. "Go where the man is, Jean."

Nodding, Jean guided the wheelchair through the maze of corridors until they reached a secluded area, devoid of any other occupants. The silence was palpable, and Jean could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on them.

As they came to a stop, a silhouette emerged from the shadows, slowly resolving into the figure of a man. Jean's breath caught in her throat as she recognized the striking features and piercing gaze of Erik Lehnsherr, also known as Magneto.

Xavier's expression was somber, his eyes reflecting the depth of their long and complex history. "Hello, old friend," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and resignation.

Erik stepped forward, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the professor's wheelchair. The air was thick with unspoken history, a tapestry of moments that had woven their lives together and torn them apart.

"Charles," Erik said, his voice low and measured. The weight of his words was palpable, a lifetime of shared triumphs and tragedies distilled into a single syllable.

Erik's appearance was a study in contrasts. His long, dark coat and broad-brimmed hat lent him an air of mystery, yet his eyes betrayed a glimmer of something deeper – a flicker of the man Charles had once known, the friend he had lost.

"I assume you were here to hear the proceedings," Charles said, his tone even and calm, belying the storm of emotions that surely raged within him.

Erik's gaze shifted, sweeping across the empty hallway as if searching for unseen threats. "I was," he replied simply, the word laden with unspoken meaning.

Charles nodded, understanding the weight of that admission. "And what did you make of it?"

The two men stood there, the silence between them pregnant with unspoken words, the echoes of a lifetime of conflict and camaraderie.

Erik's gaze darkened as he regarded Charles, the weight of their shared history evident in his expression. "I have heard those arguments before, Charles," he said, his voice tinged with a trace of weariness. "The pleas for understanding, the promises of a better future. And yet, time and time again, the humans have shown us their true nature – fear, hatred, and a desire to control that which they do not understand."

Charles held Erik's gaze, his eyes reflecting a deep well of empathy. "I know, my friend. I have seen it too. But that is why we must continue to fight, to show them that we are not their enemies, but their allies. Together, we can build a world where mutants and humans can coexist in peace."

Erik's lips tightened into a thin line, a flash of skepticism flickering across his features. "Peace, Charles? After all that we have endured, how can you still believe in such a dream?"

Charles reached out, his hand grasping Erik's arm with a gentle yet firm grip. "Because I know that it is possible, Erik. I have seen it in the hearts of those who are willing to listen, to understand. We cannot give up, not when the stakes are so high."

Erik's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he regarded his old friend. "You are a fool, Charles," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and pity. "After all these years, all that we have witnessed, you still cling to this naive dream of coexistence?"

Charles met Erik's gaze unflinchingly, his expression calm and resolute. "I do, my friend," he replied, his voice steady. "Because I know that it is possible, if only we have the courage to see it through."

Erik let out a derisive snort, shaking his head. "Courage?" he spat. "The humans have shown us time and time again that they will never accept us, that they will always fear and despise us. They see us as a threat to be controlled, to be exterminated."

"And yet, there are those who are willing to listen, to understand," Charles insisted, his eyes shining with a glimmer of hope. "If we continue to fight, to show them our humanity, then perhaps we can change their minds."

Erik's lips curled into a humorless smile. "Change their minds?" he scoffed. "You have always been too idealistic, Charles. The mutants are the future, and we will take our rightful place, whether the humans like it or not."

Charles felt a twinge of sorrow at the hardness in Erik's voice, the resignation that had replaced the passion they had once shared. "Then I ask you, old friend, to have hope," he said, his voice tinged with a note of pleading. "To believe that a better world is possible, if only we work together."

Erik's expression darkened, and for a moment, Charles saw a glimmer of the man he had once known – the idealist, the dreamer, the friend. But it was fleeting, replaced by a steely resolve that sent a chill down Charles' spine.

"I will give you your hope, Charles," Erik said, his voice low and measured. "But I ask only one thing in return – do not get in my way."

With those words, Erik turned and strode away, leaving Charles and Jean alone in the empty hallway, his heart heavy with worry for his old friend and the path he had chosen.

Jean watched Erik's retreating figure, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. She turned to Professor Xavier, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Professor, what do we do now?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Xavier sighed, the weight of the situation evident in his expression. "We must go home, Jean," he said, his voice calm and measured. "There is little more we can do here today."

Jean nodded, understanding the gravity of the professor's words. Gently, she began to guide his wheelchair back through the empty corridors, the silence between them heavy with unspoken thoughts.

As they made their way out of the building, Jean couldn't help but wonder what the future held. The Mutant Registration Act loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, and she knew that the fight was far from over.

"Professor," she said, her voice soft, "do you really believe we can change their minds? After all that we've seen, how can we be sure they won't just continue to fear and hate us?"

Xavier turned to her, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of wisdom and experience. "We must have faith, Jean," he said, his voice steady. "Change is never easy, but if we continue to show them our humanity, to fight for what is right, then perhaps, in time, they will come to understand."

Jean nodded, her heart filled with a mixture of hope and trepidation. As they stepped out into the sunlight, she couldn't help but wonder what challenges lay ahead, and whether their dream of coexistence would ever truly be realized.

***

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