Professor X froze for a moment.
His gaze shifted from Socrates to the man in chain mail, and his breath caught again.
He was a professor, after all. He knew his share of historical figures.
Achilles? Achilles of the Trojan War? The Greek hero no weapon could wound?
Brian had clearly noticed his shock. Smiling, he introduced them.
"Charles, everyone you see here is a famous figure from history.
"That bearded old man is Socrates. The one wearing a laurel wreath is Plato, and behind them are Aristotle and Alexander the Great.
"Oh, and the short fellow in the red cloak over there is Napoleon. He argues with the pigeons in the square every morning because they keep crapping on his head."
Professor X swept his gaze over the crowd. His mind nearly ground to a halt.
Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Alexander the Great, Napoleon—names printed in every history textbook, revered by generation after generation as the pinnacles of human civilization.
Yet here they all stood in Krakoa's square, dressed in the clothes of their eras and smiling amiably. Some were even munching on local snacks.
"They... they're all Mutants?" Professor X asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.
"Every one of them." Brian nodded, his smile carrying the relief of a man who had long wanted to share this secret.
"Socrates could guide other people's reasoning toward conclusions he chose. That's why he was so good at leading debates.
"Alexander had a strategic instinct. On the battlefield, he could sense an enemy's weak points and the best route of attack.
"Napoleon's mutation was more complicated. He could multiply the effectiveness of everyone around him, which was why his armies could pull off maneuvers that seemed impossible."
Professor X slowly turned his wheelchair, studying the faces from left to right.
He saw