Brad met Charles.
A vibrant, young, handsome Charles with a full head of hair, standing and walking on his own two feet.
He was undoubtedly different from the old man Deadpool would deal with in the future.
The two shook hands. Charles seemed a little surprised by Brad's prosthetic limbs and artificial eye, but his reaction was hardly exaggerated.
Of course, Brad had put on a suit, leaving only his metal hand and metal eye exposed. Perhaps that had something to do with it.
If Charles saw his entire body, he would probably get quite a fright, too.
The mutants who had accompanied Charles simply stood there grinning, looking delighted to welcome another comrade.
After all, quite a few of the young mutants who had escaped Stryker Base back then were now at X Academy.
Through word of mouth, they all knew that Wolverine, Logan, had freed them from their cells.
Brad, meanwhile, had confronted the evil Stryker head-on and defeated him.
So, on the whole, X Academy's initial impression of Brad was fairly positive.
Just as they had when welcoming Logan, everyone gathered around Brad with cheerful smiles, doing their best to make him feel like family.
Charles praised Brad's righteousness, then welcomed his willingness to join the X-Men and invited him to the study for a more detailed discussion.
"No, Mr. Charles, I'm not here to join the X-Men."
Charles faltered as he began leading everyone toward the study.
"I'm here to lead the X-Men. Of course, I don't mind taking on combat missions, but I must do so as a leader."
"If you have the strength to win those youngsters over, I don't think I'd mind appointing you team captain when the need arises."
Charles turned back and smiled at Brad.
"No, not the captain of some combat team. I mean an ideological leader, like you, or Erik before he left."
The faces of the mutants who had come to welcome Brad darkened completely.
Brad glanced around. Aside from Cyclops, most of those currently accompanying Charles were not the future mainstays, such as Storm or Jean Grey.
They were all young mutants Brad barely remembered.
Charles continued smiling without a word, but someone soon lost patience and stepped forward.
It was a mutant with a messy mop of dyed pink hair.
Brad had little recollection of him. Apparently, Deadpool probably hadn't had many dealings with him in the future either.
"So you just want to come here and be a ruler?"
"A leader."
"Ruling, leading-is there a difference?"
"Interesting. You think Charles is ruling over you? Excellent. I'm here to liberate you."
With just a few words, Brad left the pink-haired boy speechless. He shook his head. "I hope you're a student who only recently enrolled. Otherwise, I'll have to agree with the United States government: there isn't much reason for this academy to exist."
Now the pink-haired boy truly couldn't stand it. He glared at Brad in fury as pink light flickered and gathered in his hands.
Brad grinned.
Sir, according to the genetic database, he should be a powerful mutant whose mind can affect reality. The energy gathering in his hands is registering extremely high readings!
Skynet issued a warning inside his head.
Brad calmly watched the pink-haired teenager without immediately answering Skynet.
"Judging by that angry reaction, you've been at this academy for a while."
"You're volatile. You've only lost an argument, and already you're unleashing enough energy to kill someone. Let someone like you loose in society, and you'd probably start demolishing buildings after a few heated words."
"After years of teaching, this academy produced someone like you. Every move you make strengthens my argument. X Academy painstakingly nurtures you all, only to potentially repay society with a whole batch of criminals."
The pink-haired boy had no answer, and grew increasingly agitated. "You're siding with humans! You're discriminating against mutants!"
Brad immediately put on an expression of sudden understanding.
"Oh, then you'd belong in the supervillain category, since you also have a mutant ability. Sorry, I overlooked that earlier."
"So why do mutants face discrimination? As though everyone carrying a gun has to shoot someone, people like you abuse your superpowers every day, reinforcing society's stereotypes about you, then use those stereotypes as an excuse to attack society."
"If everyone draws a gun and kills someone, a gun ban is only natural."
"Yet the people carrying guns shout that it's discrimination against gun owners."
"At the root of that logic, you're practically begging people to discriminate against you."
The pink-haired boy froze. The energy he should have blasted out stalled in his hands. His impoverished brain felt that everything Brad said seemed right, leaving him completely at a loss.
Brad looked around once more. Quite a few of the young mutants had wanted to attack him earlier. Under his renewed scrutiny, they hurriedly stopped baring their teeth, afraid their actions would further prove his point.
Energy spectrum analysis complete. Countermeasure mechanism synthesized.
Skynet's voice sounded in Brad's head again.
Brad quickly turned back, adopted an utterly contemptuous expression, and pointed at the pink-haired teenager. "One final thing: you couldn't beat me anyway. But I wouldn't immediately draw a gun on you. That's the fundamental difference between us."
A faint sound of metal sliding against metal rang out. An invisible wave shot from the end of Brad's prosthetic limb, instantly extinguishing the pink energy in the boy's hands.
The pink-haired boy's knees buckled, and he slumped to the floor.
Brad looked at Charles. Charles looked at the pink-haired boy.
The kindly professor's eyes were filled with disappointment at his abuse of violence. (From the pink-haired boy's subjective perspective.)
"No, Professor Charles, that's not it! I wasn't trying to abuse violence! I wasn't!"
The pink-haired boy broke down, sitting on the floor and sobbing loudly.
Charles sighed.
"Scott (Cyclops), take Quentin back to get some rest."
The young man wearing red goggles bent down, helped the pink-haired boy up, and led him out of Brad's sight.
"Why use your intelligence to bully a youngster?"
Charles looked at Brad and asked with some resignation.
"A youngster who draws a gun at the slightest disagreement? That's more dangerous than an adult with a grenade tucked into his belt, Mr. Charles. Still, I'm guessing that Quentin belongs in the troubled-teen category."
"If every youngster in this academy is like him, I'm sorry, but I'll turn around and leave-and reassess your ability to lead."
"A dangerous leader will steer mutants into an even worse situation."
Charles nodded, acknowledging Brad's point.
"Then let's discuss this in my office, Mr. Brad. Tell me your full reasoning for wanting to become a leader. Lately, it really has been getting difficult to hold everything together on my own."
The remaining young mutants exchanged looks. Once the two men had gone some distance, whispered conversations broke out.
"The professor said Quentin would definitely become an omega-level mutant someday, right?"
"Yeah. Quentin always wipes the floor with us in combat class."
"This new Mr. Brad is so powerful. He just pointed, and Quentin's energy went out!"
"Can anyone explain what all that stuff Mr. Brad just said meant?"
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