Chapter 1: Living with Death

"Waah, waah, waah."

A cry echoed through the sterile halls of the Central Hospital, heralding the arrival of new life.

But this birth was bittersweet. The mother, tragically, had fallen down a flight of stairs. The accident resulted in severe complications, leaving both the mother and one of her twins dead. Only the second twin survived, though he now faced life alone, wrapped in swaddling clothes and uncertainty.

"Oh, what a pitiful little soul!" exclaimed a nurse as she gently washed the baby, her voice tinged with compassion. She laid him carefully in a warm crib, unaware of the extraordinary twist in his fate.

"I... traveled through time..."

The newborn's mind surged with disbelief. Within his tiny skull, John Lang—now reborn as an infant—felt the overwhelming roar of voices, emotions, and sensations crashing through him like waves in a storm.

"Doctor, please save my wife...""My poor child!""You incompetent fools! If anything happens to my brother, I'll tear this hospital down!""Thank you, doctor, for saving my legs..."

The cacophony filled his head, a torrent of sorrow, desperation, and even faint echoes of joy from all around the hospital.

Have I gained some kind of telepathic power? he wondered, the realization tinged with both awe and dread.

But his infant body was ill-equipped to handle such a flood of mental energy. His attempts to scream for help came out as nothing more than high-pitched wails.

"Buzz."

Suddenly, the room vibrated with strange energy. A translucent, yellowish portal materialized in the air, shimmering like glass. From the portal stepped three armored figures, their uniforms dark and futuristic.

John Lang's confusion only deepened.

Who are they? he thought, instinctively trying to use his newfound ability to probe their minds. But their helmets were equipped with some sort of shielding, blocking his telepathy.

"Report to headquarters," said a stocky woman with dark skin, glancing at the device in her hand. "We've located a time anomaly... though this one's a bit unusual. The target is... a baby? Just born."

John Lang's mind raced. Time anomaly? What the hell?

"Cassandra Nova Xavier," the woman continued, reading from her screen. "Originally meant to be Charles Xavier's twin sister... killed in the womb. But now it seems she—or rather he—survived instead." She glanced at the baby with a mix of fascination and pity.

John Lang froze as the implications hit him. He was now Cassandra Nova. A twist of fate had rewritten his existence, but it seemed this resurrection had come with a cost. His mother and his twin brother were dead, and his presence had drawn the attention of the Time Variance Authority (TVA).

"Execute on the spot," came the cold directive from her communicator.

The dark-skinned agent—Timekeeper B-15—sighed in relief at the simplicity of her orders. She raised her baton, its tip glowing with energy designed to erase anomalies from existence.

John Lang panicked. His newborn mind, though overwhelmed, acted on instinct. He reached out telepathically, straining to stop the baton mid-air. To B-15's shock, it worked. The weapon trembled in her grasp, frozen by an invisible force.

"Mutant telepathy? Impressive for a newborn," B-15 muttered.

Her two companions quickly reacted, raising their own batons. But John Lang's powers weren't enough to hold back all three.

"Whoa!" he screamed, though it came out as an infant's wail. The energy struck him, and his body began to dissolve into nothingness.

A tear opened in the sky above the Void, a desolate dimension where discarded fragments of time and space were sent to be devoured by the cosmic predator Alioth. John Lang's swaddled form tumbled through the air, plummeting toward the barren ground.

At this speed, I'm going to die! he thought frantically.

Drawing on every ounce of his newborn telepathic power, he managed to slow his descent just before hitting the ground. Exhausted by the effort, he landed gently but promptly passed out.

"ROAR."

The skies above the Void darkened. A massive storm cloud, swirling with malevolent energy, descended toward the baby. This was Alioth, a sentient storm that consumed anything and everything in its domain.

Just as Alioth's monstrous maw closed in, a sharp "bang" echoed through the air. A figure, wreathed in black mist, appeared beside John Lang. The newcomer's ability to teleport was reminiscent of the mutant Azazel, but his appearance suggested a darker, more mysterious origin.

Without hesitation, the figure grabbed the unconscious infant and vanished into the shadows just as Alioth's jaws snapped shut on empty ground.

John Lang awoke with a start. The first thing he noticed was something small and dry shoved into his mouth.

"Ugh, what—"

Before he could process further, his eyes widened in shock. A towering Sentinel, more than three meters tall, loomed over him. Its metallic frame gleamed with high-tech plating, and its chest glowed faintly from an energy core.

The Sentinel held John Lang delicately in one massive hand, as if the baby were nothing more than a fragile toy.

"Don't be afraid," the robot said through a synthesized voice. "I won't hurt you. Here, have a cookie."

It extended its other hand, offering what looked like a small biscuit. For a machine designed to hunt mutants, its demeanor was oddly gentle—and deeply unsettling.

John Lang's mind reeled. What is happening? Why is a Sentinel acting like a babysitter?

Before he could respond telepathically, his body betrayed him. The stress, fear, and sheer absurdity of the situation caused his stomach to churn.

"Pfft!"

Warmth spread through his swaddling as his body, overwhelmed, released its contents. Mortified, John Lang froze.

Oh no. This... this is worse than death.

The Sentinel tilted its head, seemingly confused. "It appears you've soiled yourself," it noted.

"Listen," John Lang retorted telepathically, his embarrassment giving way to exasperation. "I don't care if you're a three-meter-tall murder machine or a nanny-bot. Just... don't feed me cookies! I'm a baby! Do you want to kill me?!"

The Sentinel's glowing eyes dimmed slightly, as if it were genuinely remorseful. "Apologies. I lack experience caring for human infants."

John Lang sighed internally. Of all the ways to start a second life, being trapped in the Void with a mutant-hunting robot playing nursemaid was not on his bingo card.

Still, something about this Sentinel seemed off. It wasn't hostile—at least not yet—and it showed signs of independent thought.

Could it be defective? Or worse... could it be self-aware?

As the Sentinel carefully cradled him, John Lang's infant mind churned with questions, frustration, and an inkling of curiosity.

For better or worse, this was just the beginning.