In the corridor on the third floor of the old mansion.
Pietro hugged his short little arms to his chest and pouted. His silver-gray hair stuck up in every direction, making him look like a dazed little hedgehog.
James held him and rocked him a few times. Pietro mumbled and whined, reluctant to go.
"Grandpa, don't send my sister away. Or—or let me go with Wanda! We're both going to school anyway. Why do you have to separate us?"
Clinging to James's shoulder like a kitten, Pietro saw his father twirl the cow-tail flower in his hand and look at him with an amused smile. He quickly ducked his head into his grandfather's arms, only peeking out now and then.
James stroked Pietro's little head and carried him downstairs, speaking gently as he went.
"Your sister's situation is special. She can't just go to the academy and study like you. We're only taking Wanda there today so she can get familiar with the place. She'll come home often on weekends and holidays to spend time with you."
Erik watched his father coax his youngest son, Pietro, and couldn't help feeling envious. He had to admit that being popular with children was a talent in itself.
The twins, Wanda and Pietro, had both begun showing signs of mutant powers last year. Pietro's ability was easy to understand: simply put, he could move at superhuman speed.
His sister Wanda Lehnsherr, who had been born just thirty seconds before him, had a far stranger and more complex power.
After they stepped through the gate of the old mansion, James set little Pietro down. He meant to take the boy's hand, but even with his arms stretched out, the toddler's fingertips still fell just short of James's lowered hand.
In the end, Pietro bounced