The Avenging Angel

"You were right," Amelia admitted as the two of them looked up to the sky, seeing the Avenging Angel soaring through the sky. His arms were outstretched, matching his wings as he flew around the city of New York.

It was impossible not to see him.

Everyone around then stopped and muttered, some in awe and some in disgust. The media's portrayal of the Avenging Angel as a Mutant had made what would have been an awe-inspiring sight mix with feelings of revulsion and hatred. Not that Warren would realise or care for such a thing as he enjoyed the moment.

"The Professor didn't tell me his name, but he did keep a note of it," Scott told her, both a fact and a lie. "Warren Worthington III was the name I found written on that sheet."

It was both a fact and a lie.

Xavier was the type of man to take meticulous notes, especially in the early days of his career. His powers in telepathy hadn't quite expanded to the point of being able to remember everything with perfect clarity just yet. But even when they did, Xavier was often the type of man who liked to write things down and give them a tangible form. That was the case for a long time until it became crucial to keep everything secret.

Scott did not doubt that Xavier was the same in this instance, many things lined up between his Xavier and the Xavier from Cyclops' memories. So, a little white lie wasn't going to go cause many problems.

Especially not when Amelia bought it. "You went snooping in Charles' things?"

"Not so much snooping as it was happening across it." This lie didn't convince Amelia in the slightest but it didn't matter, he had achieved what he needed to.

Warren was so far, similar to how he remembered. A little arrogant and prideful, like to draw attention to himself as he flew through the skies, revelling in the attention he received. He was a boy that came from a rich family, and even though he was one of the good ones, Warren still possessed some traits that came with that stigma.

Finding him had not been difficult in the slightest, all they had to do was wander around for a little while. New York was a city filled with crime, it being such a prominent place filled with so many people.

"Well, we've found him," Amelia muttered, watching as the Avenging Angel disappeared from view. "Now what?"

Scott looked at her out of the corner of his eye, knowing full well that her Mutant ability would allow her to follow Warren easily. However, he wouldn't be able to do so.

"I have no way of following him, do you?" Scott asked, trying to feign ignorance of her abilities. He knew that her ability to turn into mist was something that she had not revealed to them yet, but he made sure not to disclose that he knew her ability. That would raise questions as to how he knew something that he shouldn't.

"…I do."

"Then I'll follow as best as I can," Scott told her, knowing that the only reason Amelia was helping was to get this over with as quickly as possible. "You follow him closely and try to get his attention."

-X- Line Break -X-

Warren was young, similar in age to himself, that much Scott could tell straightaway. He also looked gangly, not like the strong man he would become. Clearly, he had only just begun to embrace his powers and had not had the chance to fully develop them. But he was also the same annoyingly good-looking guy that fit so perfectly with the stereotypical rich kid.

"Who are you two?" Warren asked warily, looking to the two of them, an odd pair.

An older, beautiful red-haired woman.

A young, good-looking guy.

Though, as Warren thought on it, perhaps it wasn't such an odd pairing besides the obvious age difference. "My name is Cyclops." Scott introduced himself, the name sounding wrong upon his lips. However, he paid it little thought at the time and moved forwards, extending a hand out towards Warren. "You've already met Mist."

Warren looked between the two with a raised brow. "Mist, I get that. But Cyclops? You don't exactly suit the image of a one-eyed mythological creature."

"No, perhaps I don't," Scott replied, shaking hands with Warren who was still cautious around them both. "I'm here on behalf of Professor Charles Xavier. He's a man who has a goal to create a world where Mutants and humans can coexist. The X-Men is a team of Mutants he's gathering together to help realise that dream."

"And you're here to recruit me?" Warren correctly summarised.

Scott shrugged. "Trying to offer you a position." He said simply. "I could go on about the idealistic parts of being the X-Men, but I doubt that will do much to convince you. So, let me explain what being an X-Men can do for you."

Idealism was always Charles's selling point and he was good at it. But Cyclops had never been able to sell the goal in the same way, nor did Scott find himself able to do either. What made Cyclops charismatic was the fact he was real and did not pretend to be something he was not. He told people the truth, he told them what the situation actually was and not what they wanted it to be.

He told them the truth and did not sugarcoat it.

He didn't lure them in with fanciful idealism even though he could.

Cyclops instead drew people in facts and the truth, understanding what appealed to them and what terrified them. Spinning his words in a way that drove them to act in a way that benefitted the Mutant race.

"How long do you think you can keep fighting crime here in New York on your own?" Scott asked, moving to look over the edge of the building down to the busy streets below. "A few years? A few months before you finally draw too much attention from the wrong people and lose everything. There's a limit to what you can on your own, I'm no different."

Even though he possessed the ability to project powerful beams of concussive force that could break through solid walls of steel, he was physically no different than any other human. Warren, while different, was also incredibly similar. He was a Mutant that when it boiled down to it, could fly and nothing else.

Individually, their limits were clear.

Warren was a smart guy, Scott had no doubt that while he perhaps had not recognised it yet, would do so very soon. The main concern would be whether his pride would let him see it in plenty of time.

"It's the aim of the X-Men to gather a team of Mutants that allow us as a group, to accomplish much more." Scott continued. "To cover for each other's weaknesses and to enhance our individual strengths."

"That's all well and good." Warren agreed. "But that only counts if you've got a team of people that are willing to work together. If not, things tend to fall to shit and you actually do worse."

Scott smirked. "True." There was no denying that at all, the X-Men from Cyclops' memories was filled with wild cards and people with all mannerisms of characteristics that defined who they were and often put them at odds with others. However, Cyclops had been able to demand respect and make them work together despite the seeming impossibility of that task.

It was all because he led by example.

He put himself at risk and worked with people he did not like and could not stand. Cyclops put the missions first, ignoring personal relationships and rivalries with others on the time and treating everyone equally, including himself. His actions earned their respect and admiration whereas his personality might have originally alienated him.

Scott knew that he was nothing like Cyclops, that as people they couldn't be more different. But Cyclops was a man Scott admired and in many ways, wanted to be like him.

The example he set was the one Scott would follow, learning and avoiding making the same mistakes he did. His aim is to be better than Cyclops ever could have been.

Simply being like him wouldn't be enough.

He had to aim higher.

That was Scott's goal.

"So, let me prove to you that I can keep people in line." He offered, Warren looking on in interest. "The next crime that takes place, let us both handle it, or all three of us, Mist included. Mist doesn't particularly like me, we simply get along for the sake of someone else."

Warren spared a glance to Amelia, trying to gauge whether what he said was true or not. "Alright." He nodded his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "A few days ago I got word of a huge trade taking place between the Grady Gang and some big-time dealers up in Queens. You help me crash that party and I'll consider your offer."

"Doesn't sound too difficult." Scott then looked at Amelia. "You okay with that!"

"I don't like fighting." She replied.

"I'll take that into consideration when planning our moves. Don't worry, I'll keep your part to a minimum." He added on when seeing the narrow-eyed look she gave him. "Besides, considering your stance, I doubt you'll be a member of the X-Men. This is more of a test for me and Angel over here."

"Avenging Angel." Warren corrected.

"Sure." Scott returned, remembering the memories of campy and cheesy Golden Age hero names, the Avenging Angel being one of them. "So, you ready?"

"You know you only gave me one reason for why I should join the X-Men, don't you?" Warren pointed out but nodded his head anyway. "But sure, what the hell."

"I gave you the only reason that would mean anything to me or you," Scott answered. "Unless you want me to give you some more idealistic and...fanciful reasons. If so, I can happily list them off for you now?"

Warren shook his head. "I'm good." Taking a moment to look at the time on his watch. "I'll meet you at the docks tonight, around elevenish. That's when most of the shady shit goes on and no doubt, when the deal will be taking place."

"How about nine to be sure," Scott suggested, doubting the deal would be taking place that late. Even though at this point in time, criminals would run rampant and only have to worry about the police, many of which were in their pockets. It did not mean they were predictable. Often the biggest problems criminals faced were each other, rival crime lords, lieutenants and once loyal soldiers turning against one another in a bid for power.

That was all before heroes came around and even then, the infighting always posed a problem to the criminals. Certainly, suggesting eleven was by no means a bad idea, it was late and by that point, many would be lethargic and more likely to miss things. Not to mention that in the cover of darkness they would have much more cover and more importantly, those that often worked at those times knew how to turn a blind eye to anything shady.

However, just because that was the best time, didn't mean it was the only time.

It would be better to arrive early and wait than arrive late and miss everything.

That was something Cyclops had learned the hard way on many occasions. It was a lesson Scott endeavoured to not have to learn for himself by using the mistakes of his predecessor as a guide for his own journey.

That was the only one to succeed in his goals.