Ororo's mother was a Kenyan immigrant, from a family of witch doctors who had inherited the ability to control the weather. In the Horde, witch doctors often had to serve as physicians as well, healing the sick and saving lives.
Of course, ordinary witch doctors used herbs and similar things to treat illnesses. Her family used magic, and Storm had inherited the witch doctor's talent as well.
Su Ming did not know exactly which demon god stood behind her. Perhaps it was someone from the voodoo pantheon, but her magic aligned with "life" and "purification," placing it within the lineage of White Magic.
Magik liked this teacher of hers very much. Ororo treated all her students well, and most of the time, she was the calmest person among the X-Men.
"If you could understand my jokes, you wouldn't be you. All right, let me talk to Charles."
Su Ming waved a hand and sat directly on the armrest of Professor X's wheelchair. Come to think of it, Beast had invented this wheelchair too, right? It would have been even better if it could double as a cane.
The next second, Little Black Girl's expression changed. Her demeanor became tranquil and distant, as though pastoral music were playing beside her ears.
The Chinese kind of pastoral music—picking chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge, leisurely gazing upon the southern mountains—not the American country version of "Old Donald Had a Farm."
In short, although Charles himself appeared unconscious, he had activated his power and temporarily borrowed Storm's body.
"Uncle Slade."
Though it was still that female voice, its tone carried the aged weight of accumulated years. Daisy bared her teeth in discomfort. The intense sense of dissonance made the hairs on her arms stand on end.
Su Ming removed his mask, kindly rubbed the