He then followed Qin into the main building, through the corridor, and up the stairs.
Photos hung on the walls of the corridor—a group photo of the X-Men, a group photo of graduates, and several yellowed old photos that looked like they were taken decades ago.
He recognized the people in the photo: a young Professor X and a young Magneto. The two stood side by side, looking like two old friends.
The fact that a photo of the two still hangs in the Xavier Institute's Hall corridors reveals a love-hate relationship between Magneto and Professor X.
Thankfully, they weren't a man and a woman, otherwise they would have already had children.
Qin stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.
Inside the door was a study, large, quiet, and softly lit.
The bookshelves were filled with books, and a half-open ancient Greek philosophy book lay open on the table. The old man in the wheelchair had his back to the door and faced the golden lawn outside the window.
He heard the door open, turned around, and his aged face was full of smiles.
"Welcome to the college, Russell." Charles Xavier's voice was gentle, like someone offering you a cup of hot tea.
"Hmm." Russell walked in, didn't sit down, but stood by the window. "As you requested, I delivered Rogue safely, but she doesn't seem to want to stay."
Charles glanced at the Rogue.
The girl huddled behind Russell, her evasive gaze filled with curiosity. Then he smiled, a smile devoid of disappointment, only one of habitual acceptance.
"It's alright, we respect every Mutants's choice. If she wants to leave with you, I won't stop her."
The Rogue loosened his grip a little.
Charles shifted his gaze from the girl to Russell's face, his expression becoming more serious, even revealing a hint of nervousness.
"Russell, after seeing this school, has your view on the peaceful coexistence of humans and Mutants changed?"
Russell didn't answer immediately. He took a few steps forward, leaned against the window frame, put his hands in his pockets, and looked at the old man in the wheelchair.
He thought of the X-Men movies, of the Mutants Carnage by the Sentry, of that dark future, of Charles sitting in the dilapidated Water Tower, his hair gray, his face wrinkled, unable to even remember his own name.
And then there were those things Magneto said— Charles sat in his mansion, drinking tea, wearing a suit, and thought the world was a wonderful place.
Even when he was in darkness, his heart was still drawn to the light he believed in.
"Why should there be a change?" Russell's answer was very direct, "I never agreed with your approach in the first place."
The room fell silent for a moment. Jean looked at the young man beside her in surprise, never expecting a Mutants to speak to the professor like that.
"Black people during the colonial period, Jews during the Third Reich period, were more ' Mutants. They were no different from each other physically, Genes, or in appearance."
But they were still enslaved, Carnage, and treated like livestock."Russell looked at Charles without looking away.
"Where do you think Mutants are better than them? Do they have stronger abilities? Stronger power? That will only make humans more afraid of you, more eager to destroy you, and some might even want to keep that power for their own private use."
Your peaceful coexistence theory is too weak. Is peace achieved through prayer still peace? In comparison, Magneto, though radical, is more to my liking and aligns better with the idea that peace is won through war."
"What did you say?" Scott Summers walked in from outside the door, his voice clearly filled with anger.
"Only the Professor's philosophy can allow humans and Mutants to coexist; Magneto's actions will only lead Mutants to destruction!"
Russell glanced at him, a very brief glance, as short as a blink, but Scott's body stiffened.
It was partly due to the fear Russell had left in his heart from the last battle, and partly because he felt that kind of pressure, like prey being locked on by a hunter, that made him instinctively afraid to move.
Behind Cyclops, a whole host of X-Men, including Beast, Pyro, Iceman, Wolverine, entered from outside the corridor. It was unclear whether they were worried that Russell might harm the Professor or had some other motive.
Russell looked away and turned to Charles.
"Professor X, could you stand up and move to the other side with Jean?"
Charles looked puzzled; if he could stand up, he would at least spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
This request was truly unreasonable, and the air in the study instantly froze. Some even thought that Russell was deliberately insulting the professor.
Jean's brow furrowed, Scott's hand pressed against his glasses, and tiny electric currents pulsed at Storm's fingertips.
Russell didn't look at them; he looked at Charles, at the old man who had been in a wheelchair for decades, at his wise eyes that would never be able to stand up again.
"Alright, never mind then." Russell turned around to face everyone in the study. His voice wasn't loud, but every word pierced their ears like nails.
"To me, everyone here, except for Professor X and Jean, is trash."
Scott's face flushed red, Iceman's brows furrowed deeply, Wolverine seemed unconcerned, Jean's expression was a mixture of surprise and worry, and Storm's eyes narrowed.
"Your peace ideals are worthless. Without strong power to protect themselves, Mutants are just fish on a chopping board."
"I'm not talking about justice, I'm talking about reality." Russell's gaze swept across everyone's faces.
"If I were hostile to you, none of you would survive three seconds, not even Professor X and Jean."
Remembering the Dark Phoenix within Jean, he quickly changed his tune. "Jean is one thing, but Professor X is no exception. As long as he can withstand your mental attacks or a sudden sneak attack, people in wheelchairs are just sitting ducks."
He looked at Charles again.
"In fact, I've always felt that as a leader of Mutants, you shouldn't be showing your face like this, since just one bullet could paralyze you."
"Once a sniper a kilometer away launches an attack, even the strongest Telepathy can't block what you can't see."
Russell paused slightly, his gaze subtly landing on Cyclops. "To possess immense power and constantly suppress it is an extremely foolish thing."
Scott's fingers hovered over the new quartz frames, his mind filled with resentment towards Russell's words, especially the lecturing tone he used towards a professor.
But before he could speak, he felt a lightness on his ear; the glasses that had restricted his abilities were gone.
Since his eyes were already open, a thick, crimson laser beam shot out from his pupils in an instant—not a beam, but a torrent, like water bursting its banks.
It's like a person who has been holding back for too long finally releasing a devastating force that has been suppressed for decades.
The laser pierced the ceiling, creating a large hole in the roof. Debris and dust fell, landing on Cyclops's shoulders, his hair, and his bewildered face.
Then a figure stepped in front of the laser, Russell looking quite pleased as he physically shielded it from the beam.
"That's how it should be, but it's not strong enough."
"Close your eyes!" Piano's voice exploded in Scott's mind.
Scott snapped his eyes shut, and the laser stopped.
He stood there, trembling, his hands covering his eyes, like someone who had just woken up from a nightmare and wasn't sure if he was really awake.
His glasses were in Russell's hands. The young man stood under the broken ceiling, holding the Ruby-Quartz Visor between his index and middle fingers, his posture as casual as if he were twirling a pen.
Qin's Telekinesis had already surged forth; the books beside her began to float, the pen holder on the table began to shake, and there was an invisible, suffocating sense of oppression in the air.
But her attack failed to land because her vision was obstructed.
Russell appeared in front of her at some point and put Scott's glasses on her head.
Behind the red lenses, her eyes were wide open, reflecting Russell's expressionless face.
"Look," Russell stepped back, spreading his hands to look at Scott, whose eyes were tightly closed, and Jean, who was wearing glasses, "This is the difference between us."
Then, with the Snap, the shattered ceiling was restored to its original state. He then took off his glasses and tossed them back to Scott.
Scott caught it in a flurry, put it on, and the world returned to normal. His face was still red, whether from anger or shame, it was hard to tell.
"You attacked me from behind." His trembling voice clearly betrayed his defiance.
"If you can't even open your eyes, stop being stubborn." Russell put his hands back in his pockets. "Unless your eyeballs can keep up with a bullet, you won't even be able to catch up with my back."
Qin looked at Russell with a complicated expression, unsure of what the young man was up to. However, after what had just happened, there was one thing he was certain of.
This person is very, very strong, and also possesses Telekinesis; their control over Telekinesis goes beyond the physical realm.
"Your abilities are not limited to material manipulation." Her expression was grave.
"I never said I was just a matter manipulator," Russell said, shrugging.
Charles sat in his wheelchair, watching all this, and remained silent for a moment before tapping his fingers lightly twice on the armrest of his wheelchair.
"Russell, your strength is indeed great, but strength is not everything; strength alone is not enough."
"I know," Russell retorted immediately, "But without enough power, you can't do anything. For example, when facing pursuit from the America military, without enough power, you can only become a guinea pig."
Charles looked at him and nodded. "Perhaps you're right, perhaps we're both right, just seeing things from different perspectives."
"Professor X, you didn't send me to Xavier Institute just to nag, did you? Where's your Training Room? And where's my sparring partner?"
"Of course." Charles's gaze swept over the X-Men- Men, who either turned away or looked down at their writing; no one was willing to take Russell to the Training Room.
Even Storm didn't respond to Charles's gaze.
"After you finish your Training Room, I want you to meet someone." Charles glanced at Qin, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
"Qin, take him to the Training Room."
Qin nodded without refusing. She walked to the door and turned to look at Russell.
"Come with me."
Russell followed her out of the study, with Scott standing behind them, his expression shifting between pale and flushed. Storm stood by the window, looking at the lawn outside, lost in thought.
Charles remained seated in his wheelchair, flipping through the ancient Greek philosophical text, as if nothing had happened.
In the corridor, Qin walked in front, and Russell walked behind. The two were a few steps apart, not too far, not too close, just enough to talk.
"You just said that if anyone is hostile towards you, we wouldn't survive three seconds." Qin didn't turn around. "Aren't you being a little too confident?"
"Really?" Russell remained noncommittal. "You want to try?"
Qin paused, turned around, and looked at Russell.
"Maybe one day, but not now. The professor told me to try to get involved as little as possible and just do some medical or nursing work."
Russell looked at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I think quite the opposite; you should take more initiative to find your true self."
Before long, they arrived at Training Room filled with high-tech features.
The door to the Training Room was opened by Qin. The room was empty and large, with white walls and floors. Rows of lights were embedded in the ceiling, illuminating the entire room as a huge, empty, and endless space.
Russell walked in, stood in the center, turned around, and looked at the doorway.
Qin didn't come in; she stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching him.
"This Training Room was built by McCoy and uses the latest 3D technology. Here, you can simulate real combat."
"That sounds good."
He raised his hand, and the atoms in the air began to coalesce.
Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen are broken down at the molecular level, rearranged, and woven into a rose.
Red petals, green stem, not a single thorn missing—he tossed the rose to Qin.
Qin caught it, and gently touched the petal with her fingers to confirm that it was real and not a hallucination.
It wasn't an illusion created by Telekinesis; it was real, and the roses were even fragrant.
"Thank you," she said gratefully.
Russell did not answer.
He turned to face the empty Training Room, raised his hands, and the atoms in the air began to riot.
Oxygen is compressed into a liquid state, nitrogen is ionized into plasma, and carbon atoms form a diamond crystal structure through high-speed collisions, only to be disintegrated into graphite in the next instant.
His fingers traced invisible paths in the air, each path altering the very foundation of the world.
Qin stood at the doorway, watching all of this, her eyes growing brighter and brighter.
She felt an unstoppable force surging from the molecular level, like a tidal wave, and something deep within her was eager to try.
"Isn't it amazing? Actually, you should be able to do it too, provided that you don't reject the call from the depths of your heart and don't fear your power."
"Can... can I really do it?" Qin lowered her head, looked at her hands, and shook her head frantically.
"No, that's not my power."
At the same time, an alluring voice resonated deep within Qin's heart.
"No, it's your power. We were originally one. It was that damned bald guy who deceived us."
"No." Qin half-squatted on the ground, covering her ears.
"The professor is doing this for my own good."