Chapter 44

Back in his apartment, Gojo Satoru blinked into existence, reappearing with a subtle crackle of energy. He exhaled deeply, feeling the satisfying mental exhaustion that only intense training could bring. Walking over to the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, savoring the cold liquid as it soothed his throat.

'Progress,' he thought, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The training had been intense, pushing his limits with the wind and fire elements. The power he had unleashed today was staggering, even for him. But now, with those elements under better control, his mind wandered to the next challenge.

'Lightning,' he mused, his thoughts drifting to the legendary users of the element. He pictured Sasuke Uchiha's Chidori, the lethal speed and precision of the technique; Laxus Dreyar's Dragon Slayer magic, raw power and ferocity incarnate; Zenitsu Agatsuma's Thunderclap and Flash, a blinding speed attack that could cut down anything in its path; and Enel's Goro Goro no Mi abilities, pure electricity personified.

Gojo imagined himself wielding lightning with the same mastery, his body crackling with electrical energy, able to strike down opponents in the blink of an eye. 'Oh Yeah, that would be badass,' he thought, his excitement building. Lightning had always been one of his favorite elements—dynamic, powerful, and just the right amount of flashy.

His thoughts then took a different turn, drifting to a certain mutant with auburn hair streaked with white. It had been a while since he'd visited the Xavier Institute. Memories of their last encounter surfaced—her touch, the way her eyes had widened in surprise as she brushed against his skin, and the warmth of her presence.

A faint smile played on his lips as he set the bottle down. 'I guess it's time to check in on the mansion,' he decided. 'Maybe after this next training session, I'll swing by. It's been over two weeks now…'

With that plan in mind, Gojo began to mentally prepare himself for the next stage of his training.

This time, though, he wouldn't be disappearing for long.

———-

Gojo Satoru materialized in Hank McCoy's lab with a faint crackle of energy, his sudden appearance causing a nearby stack of papers to flutter. Hank, engrossed in his research, jolted upright, his heart skipping a beat.

"Jesus, boy! You nearly gave me a heart attack," Hank exclaimed, his voice carrying both surprise and an undercurrent of reprimand.

Gojo laughed lightly, raising his right hand in a dismissive gesture while his left remained casually tucked in his pocket. "Come on, professor, don't ruffle your feathers."

"It's fur, my boy, not feathers," Hank corrected, his voice softening as he shook his head with a wry smile.

Gojo's gaze drifted over to the desk, where stacks of papers and an open laptop displayed various data. "What are you working on?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

Hank turned the screen toward Gojo, revealing charts and graphs that detailed the X-Men's progress. "I'm studying the evolution of the X-gene," Hank explained, his tone shifting to one of intellectual excitement. "It appears that, even though it's not always noticeable, the more the X-Men use their abilities, the stronger their genes become. Like a muscle that rebuilds itself stronger after being strained."

Gojo nodded thoughtfully. "So, like exercise. The more they push their powers, the more their abilities adapt and strengthen?"

"Exactly," Hank confirmed, his eyes lighting up. "Though, not all mutants experience this growth. Some, like Logan, seem to have reached a plateau."

Hank pulled up a detailed file on Wolverine. "Logan's healing factor and physical capabilities are as powerful as ever, but they've remained unchanged for years. In contrast, look at Storm's data." He tapped a few keys, bringing up a comparison between Logan and Ororo Munroe. "Storm's powers, on the other hand, appear to be evolving. Her connection to the atmosphere is deepening, allowing for more precise and powerful control over weather patterns."

Gojo leaned in, intrigued. "So, what's causing this difference? Why is Storm evolving while Logan isn't?"

Hank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "One theory is that mutants like Logan, whose powers are physical and regenerative, may have reached their genetic peak. Their abilities are so efficient that there's little room for further evolution. Whereas Storm, who manipulates external forces, may still be refining and deepening her connection to the elements."

"Interesting," Gojo mused. "It makes sense that different powers would have different limits. But what about mutants who haven't reached their full potential yet?"

"That's another possibility," Hank acknowledged. "Some mutants may simply need more time or the right circumstances to push their abilities to new levels. I need to study more cases before I can draw any concrete conclusions."

Gojo nodded in agreement, his thoughts drifting momentarily. 'Hmmm… with the increase in mutant emergence, according to some of the comics, it'll reach a point where the ratio between humans and mutants will reverse.'

Shaking off the thought, Gojo turned his attention back to Hank. "By the way, that sample you took from me—did you dispose of it?"

Hank glanced at him, confused. "Uh, no. It's still in storage, over there," he said, pointing to a small refrigerated unit where blood samples were kept.

Without moving a muscle, Gojo activated his X-ray vision, locating the vial labeled with his name. He extended his will, and the vial suddenly ignited with a bluish-white flame. The temperature soared to over 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit—hot enough to vaporize the glass and the blood within. Yet, astonishingly, the intense heat didn't affect the nearby samples or the metal stand beneath it. The vial simply ceased to exist.

Hank's eyes widened in disbelief. "My word… You've mastered the fire element."

Gojo chuckled. "Yeah, it took a bit of time, but I've got both fire and wind under control now."

To demonstrate, Gojo casually conjured a fireball in his right hand and a condensed sphere of wind in his left. The fire flickered and danced, while the wind ball shimmered with barely contained energy. Gojo then began to manipulate them, shaping the fire into a cat that chased a mouse made of wind around the lab. The flames shifted colors—from orange to blue to white—indicating the varying temperatures as the chase ensued. At one point, the cat caught the mouse and seemed to devour it, growing larger and hotter in the process.

Hank watched, utterly fascinated. "Incredible… The temperature of that flame should be well over 2,000 degrees, and yet I can't feel the heat at all. The control you're exhibiting—it's as if you're dictating the laws of physics themselves."

Gojo grinned as the fire cat approached Hank, sniffing at his hand before licking his palm with a flame-tongue. Despite the fire cat's body temperature being over 2,000 degrees, Hank felt only a pleasant warmth.

"How did you achieve this level of control in just a few weeks?" Hank asked, still in awe.

Gojo shrugged, though his eyes gleamed with confidence. "A combination of focus, visualization, and understanding the fundamental nature of the elements. Fire isn't just heat; it's life, destruction, and renewal. Wind isn't just air; it's freedom, movement, and the unseen force that shapes the world. Once you understand these concepts, you can control them at their core—manipulate not just their form, but their essence."

Hank nodded, absorbing the wisdom behind Gojo's words. "It's astonishing. I've seen mutants struggle for years to achieve even a fraction of this control. And yet, here you are…"

With a final flourish, Gojo dispelled the constructs, the fire and wind vanishing into nothingness. He turned to Hank, ready to move on. "So, where are the others?"

"They're with Charles in the study," Hank replied, still marveling at the empty space where the sample once was. As Gojo moved toward the door, Hank couldn't help but think, 'To have already mastered both elements in such a short period—something Storm has been grappling with for over a decade… His growth is truly astronomical. And terrifying.'

As the door slid shut behind Gojo, Hank muttered under his breath, "Incredible…"