Electronic Sense

What you are about to see next is illegal in both the United States and Canada...

Inside the stretched Lincoln parked by the roadside, Charles and Logan watched the recorded video stored on Gabriela's phone, the atmosphere heavy with silence.

In the video, Gabriela showed them the truth about the Alkali Laboratory.

Nominally just a cancer research project institute in Mexico City, the Alkali Institute was actually a genetic weapon laboratory dedicated to researching artificial mutants.

Over the past few years, this laboratory had cultivated numerous gifted artificial mutant youths, training them into assassins and weapons in inhuman ways before selling them off at high prices.

"They were born here, and then they never left..."

"They have no birth certificates, no names... Their fathers were all genetic seeds packed in test tubes..."

"It's a business. They're making soldiers... lethal weapons..."

On the screen, before Gabriela could finish her sentence, the phone ran out of battery.

"Hehehe..." Miles in the back seat flashed a silly grin, clearly still not awake.

Old Logan took off his glasses, his gaze sweeping past Miles to look at Laura, who was sitting on a rocking horse by the side of the road, his brow furrowed.

...You took that woman's money, and you promised to take these two kids. Charles asked from the back seat.

"Yeah." Old Logan gave an imperceptible grunt, then asked, "Who is she?"

Without a doubt, Logan was asking about Laura.

"She is your daughter, Logan," Professor Charles answered.

Logan glanced at Charles, then stood up and walked out of the car without a word.

"Alkali has your genetic sample," Charles reminded him.

"You too." Logan glanced sideways at Miles next to Charles.

"...Ha." Charles gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, "Indeed."

Watching Logan walk toward Laura without a word, Charles turned his head to look at Miles. "Miles, are you awake?"

...Where is this? I'm so sleepy, Miles said hazily. Logically speaking, after his high-intensity power usage earlier, he shouldn't have woken up this so quickly; he felt as though he had been woken up by Charles.

"Hold onto your will, Miles," Charles said with a smile. "I know you're exhausted, and in great pain... But you don't realize that a huge part of your pain stems from your mind being wound up too tight..."

"I can feel it. Your mind is like a burning, unquenchable flame, scorching your brain and burning away your life..."

"So, try to relax. Think of those good things in your memory..."

"Sorry, Professor..." Miles whispered, "I don't know what relaxation feels like."

Poor Miles. Professor Charles smiled bitterly, then said, "Well, you can try to imagine."

"Imagine?"

"Yes, imagine." Charles nodded. "'Imagination' is the most precious treasure God has bestowed upon humanity."

"You should imagine that you can be an ordinary teenager, hanging out with other kids during your most mischievous years, playing a basketball game, or going on a date with your crush—doing all the things kids your age are supposed to do... Oh right, remember not to smoke and weed."

As Charles spoke, his words subtly influenced Miles's consciousness. With Charles's abilities, even without actively using his power and merely resorting to simple hypnosis, it was enough to affect Miles's mind.

School...

In Miles's mind, scenes of the past gradually emerged—those were memories that once belonged to an anonymous transmigrator.

Unfortunately, his experiences during his time at the Alkali Laboratory had long since torn his memories and cognition to shreds. The current Miles had even forgotten what his name used to be, and even the name "Miles" was given to him by Gabriela.

And now, under the Professor's guidance, Miles felt as though he were having a dream. In the dream, he had returned to campus once more, playing happily with his classmates, and even secretly kissing a female classmate on the cheek.

So soft, so sweet.

...Thank you, Professor. Miles muttered to himself in a low voice, and then fell into a deep sleep.

This time, he had truly drifted off.

Charles looked at Miles's pale sleeping face, smiled softly, and then called out toward the window at Logan, who was glaring at Laura, "Hey, Logan, don't be so rough with Laura."

"Shut up, Charles, you don't need to meddle in this!"

"Oh, also, I need to pee," Charles continued with a smile.

"...Logan turned his head and silently glanced at Charles.

When Miles opened his eyes again, it was already dark.

"Ah... Slept so well. Where's the movie at? Has it reached the road-movie staple of the grandpa dying at halftime?"

Miles yawned, then turned his head to see that Laura was wearing a new pair of children's sunglasses and eating a new tub of potato chips.

Seeing Miles wake up, Laura instinctively pulled the chip tub closer to her chest, then thought better of it, took a few chips out of the tub, and shoved them toward Miles.

"Thanks, Laura." Miles laboriously took the chips, then looked at the others who were watching Gabriela's video together, and said with some dissatisfaction, "What's the deal? You watching a little movie without calling me!"

Logan and Caliban, who had just returned from gathering supplies, gave Miles speechless looks, too lazy to bother with him.

"...It seems your past life was a bit more eventful than I imagined," Charles chuckled. "We're watching the video Gabriela left behind. Do you want to join?"

"Yeah, yeah." Miles nodded.

After a good night's sleep, Miles was noticeably much more energetic than before.

"Caliban, give us a hand," Charles said.

"To be honest, I still don't think bringing these two little guys along is a good idea..." Caliban muttered under his breath, supporting Miles as he shuffled over.

Logan said nothing, only silently pushing his glasses up.

Yes, old Logan was somewhat farsighted and needed reading glasses to see the phone screen clearly.

At this point, the video had played to Laura's surgery. The footage clearly showed those researchers injecting boiling Adamantium into Laura's hands and feet, the entire process a bloody and shocking mess.

Afterward, Miles began to appear in the footage. Just as he had exhibited before, Miles in the video had dull eyes and a dull, foolish expression, letting the researchers plunge an extractor into the back of his head, embedding it deep into his skull before connecting it to a tube.

As the sole successful clone of Charles Xavier, Dr. Zander, the head of the laboratory, had always been very interested in him, and his brain was considered one of the research institute's most important research materials.

Then, Gabriela's voiceover in the video continued, "In this building, they are still..."

Bzz...

Right at that moment, the phone screen suddenly flashed and turned completely blank.

"Huh, a glitch?" Caliban blinked.

"Tch." Logan irritably banged the phone against the car door, yet it remained useless.

...Miles? Professor Charles suddenly realized something, turning to look at Miles, only to see that Miles was looking somewhat vacant.

Hearing Charles's call, Miles suddenly snapped back to reality. "Uh, I'm fine..."

At the same time, the phone screen flashed and returned to normal.

"Well, looks like the percussive method still works," Logan muttered offhandedly.

"No, Logan, that's not the reason." Professor Charles shook his head, looking at Miles, a strange brilliance flashing in his eyes. "Child, don't be afraid. Tell me, what did you just feel?"

"I..." Miles thought for a moment and said uncertainly, "I feel like I can control that thing..."

"What thing?" Logan asked, puzzled, just as he watched the phone screen in his hand turn white again.

"This is the effect of his power!" Caliban nodded at Charles, then asked with some uncertainty, "Is this something telepathy can do?"

"Controlling a phone screen? How amusing," Logan remarked offhandedly. "So telepathy can control electronic screens too? Charles, I think I finally understand why your TV remote could never be found in the headmaster's office back in the day."

"That's because I hated you constantly watching country music performances in my office, which felt like a bunch of people taking a shit in my ears," old Charles replied with a calm face, hurling insults right back.

Meanwhile, Miles was carefully experiencing this brand-new application of his power, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Actually, I've noticed it for a while, Miles," Charles said again. "Your power is somewhat different from normal telepathy. You can make lights flicker and walkie-talkies malfunction... Obviously, the targets of your power shouldn't be limited to just other humans."

"Try to completely unleash your perception, Miles," Charles guided him step by step. "Stop paying too much attention to the chaotic thoughts of others. Obey your instincts and perceive with your mind..."

"Now, tell me, what do you perceive?"

...A phone, Miles pressed his fingers against the side of his head, muttered to himself silently, and then continued, And... a street lamp.

As soon as his voice fell, a street lamp on the roadside began to flicker erratically on and off. After a few flashes, it went out. Then, as if triggering a chain reaction, the other street lamps on both sides went out one after another like falling dominoes, and the entire street plunged into dimness.

The convenience store's cash register computer... and the lights...

A chorus of curses suddenly rang out from the convenience store by the roadside, as if the cash register computer had suddenly malfunctioned. Then, the lights inside the convenience store suddenly went out, swallowed by darkness.

And... a lot more.

A few young people passing by sporadically were laughing and chatting about something, when suddenly a young man wearing headphones perplexedly took out his phone, only to find that the phone seemed to be malfunctioning, its screen completely blank.

Soon, curses rose from the others as well.

Until then, the others in the car involuntarily turned their gazes toward Miles in unison.

"That's enough, Miles," Charles discouraged. "Don't keep going."

However, Miles ignored him, his perception still continuously sweeping toward more distant places.

In the night, a silent darkness began to sweep over everything. Everyone discovered that the electric lights in their homes were constantly flickering, and devices such as TVs and phones also began to malfunction frequently.

A poorly maintained security camera on the city street suddenly creaked, slowly booting up and lifting its head.

Miles found that this camera had become his third eye, allowing him to see things even further away.

A stray dog passing by with a broken leg—so pitiful, just like himself.

Ah, a felon robbing a woman in an alley...

"Don't make a sound, chick. If you don't want to die, let go of your bag!"

In the alley at the corner of the street, a knife-wielding vagrant pressed a blade against a woman's neck, threatening her fiercely and sternly.

Yet at that very moment, all the light sources around them—the street lamps, windows, and everything else—suddenly extinguished all at once, startling both of them with this eerie scene.

Then, the phone in the woman's pocket rang, and though no one pressed any buttons, it answered itself automatically.

"This is the precinct. We've received a report, arriving within five minutes..."

"Fuck!!" The knife-wielding thug violently threw the woman to the ground, snatching the phone and trying to turn it off, but no matter what he did, he couldn't shut it down, nor could he even hang up the call!

"Please stay on the line and keep in touch, we are on our way..."

The thug slammed the phone hard onto the ground, spat angrily at the woman, and then hurried away.

The woman, who had survived a harrowing ordeal, slowly retrieved her phone, and then watched as the surrounding area gradually began to light up once more.

The dim light of the street lamp shone in her eyes, reflecting a tiny glint of crystal.

Inside the Lincoln, Miles slowly lowered the arm pressed against his temple and opened his eyes.

"I think we may have witnessed a miracle," old Charles looked at Miles, his gaze brighter than ever before.

So much alike...

Not just the telepathy, but the habitual hand gestures when using his powers... Truly so much like his younger self!

"What did this kid just do?" Logan, who hadn't felt much of Miles's power, asked with puzzlement.

"He can manipulate all electrical appliances within a certain range," Caliban explained. "Cutting off electrical light sources, even electronic screens... It's a very peculiar ability. I've practically never heard of any mutant having this kind of power!"

"Not 'manipulating electrical appliances', but 'manipulating electrical signals'," old Charles slowly said. "At its core, it's still a telepathic ability, but many people don't realize that the thinking processes of animal brains are transmitted precisely through electrical signals..."

"Conventional mental abilities achieve their effects by interfering with the brain's electrical signals... Whereas Miles—his mental abilities possess a much broader scope of application... What he can manipulate is all 'electronic signals'!"

"Not only can he manipulate other people's consciousness, but he can also manipulate all electronic circuits, equipment... even the network."

"Doesn't that mean he can directly 'click' a human brain off like an electrical appliance?" Caliban asked instinctively.

"It's not that easy..." Miles clutched his head and muttered gloomily, "Human brain signals and circuit signals are way too different, practically an absolute mess... It's simply not something that can be done by cutting off one or two signal paths... That's the old man's area of expertise."

"Even so, it's still quite extraordinary," Caliban muttered under his breath, his expression shifting. "In a society filled with electronic devices everywhere, having the ability to manipulate all electronic signals..."

"Logan," old Charles suddenly called out Logan's name. "We must protect Miles..."

"He is the hope of the new generation of mutants!"