Escanor(Marvel)

POV Bolivar Trask

This small war had proven to be fertile ground for my project.

"Yes, Security Council, my project is in its final stages," I declared, striving to imbue my voice with confidence.

The Council had summoned me urgently due to the growing mutant threat. This was an opportunity I could not afford to waste. I had meticulously gathered all the data, prepared a comprehensive report, and had now been explaining the details for an hour. My voice was firm, my arguments inevitable.

"I am the only one capable of stopping them," I emphasized, letting my gaze sweep over the shadowed figures. The Council needed a solution to restore control over the state. Mutants had become a factor beyond their influence, a threat to the very system itself.

"We hope you complete the project as soon as possible," one of the Council members said. His voice was devoid of emotion, and their faces remained hidden in anonymity for security reasons.

"I assure you, the project will exceed all your expectations," I adjusted my glasses, allowing a slight smile to touch my lips. This would be my triumph.

"Will your machines be able to guarantee the country's uninterrupted security?" another voice inquired a deeper one, carrying a faint trace of doubt.

"Thanks to you and the technology borrowed from Tony Stark, we can already maintain the complex's autonomous operation for a full week," I replied enthusiastically. "However, my new project will allow them to function indefinitely without breakdowns, without interruptions, without the need for recharging. Forever."

I paused, letting the weight of my words settle over the room. Now they knew that I held the key to their power and to my own greatness.

"What exactly are you suggesting? This sounds like fantasy," came a voice laced with skepticism.

"It is more than real," I responded coolly, shifting their attention to the screen before them. "Please, take a look: Omega-class mutant Escanor and Beta-class mutant Mystique."

Footage appeared on the screen. Prime specimens these beings with their extraordinary abilities. Soon, their secrets would be mine.

"We've heard of them," another voice acknowledged. "They are under constant surveillance. But why do you need them?"

I let the silence stretch, ensuring my next statement carried weight.

"Even the most advanced mechanism can fail malfunction, wear and tear, an unforeseen error. But what if it could rebuild itself, adapt to any conditions? Such a machine would be unstoppable."

The Council listened in tense silence.

"That would require a colossal energy source. And this is where another mutant will assist us. His ability to absorb solar energy will allow us to create a thermonuclear reactor out of thin air," I gestured to the screen, where the footage played.

In one clip, Mystique shifted forms with unsettling ease, transforming into different people. In another taken from a recent battle Escanor, like a solar deity, created a miniature sun, blinding in its intensity.

"That does sound promising," one of the Council members admitted. "But just how powerful will your weapon become if you acquire these mutants?"

"It will eclipse nuclear weapons," I replied with cold certainty.

My answer seemed to impress them. For a moment, silence hung in the chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the screen.

"Then we are ready to support your project," a voice rang out, now with more confidence. "But first, you must provide samples. Something that can at least compare to Tony Stark's armor."

I allowed myself a slight smile. It was only a matter of time.

"Have no doubt," I replied, masking my mixed emotions behind a calm smile. The joy of success mingled with the heavy realization of the sleepless nights and difficult decisions still ahead.

"You are dismissed. We expect great results from you," one of the Council members said, and one by one, the figures began to fade into darkness, dissolving like shadows.

As the door closed behind me, I let my smile widen. The goal was getting closer. Leaning against the cold wall of the corridor, I spotted a familiar figure waiting for me.

"Judging by that satisfied look on your face, I take it we'll be rid of all the mutants soon?" Stryker asked with a predatory grin. His formal uniform, adorned with medals, gleamed under the dim lights, and his eyes burned with near-fanatical intensity. This man had seen too many wars, and each one had left its mark.

"Very soon, my friend. Very soon," I answered, letting my voice soften slightly.

In his presence, I could be myself there was no need to hide anything. Stryker was not just an ally; he was one of the few who truly shared my vision.

I looked at him, but my mind was already far away. The future of the world a pure, perfected world now depended solely on whether I could see this project through to the end.

Xavier's School

In a cozy yet tense room, two men sat across from each other two men whose influence over the future of the world was immeasurable.

One of them, a African-American in a long coat, radiated danger. His single eye seemed to pierce straight through to the soul. Nick Fury was a man accustomed to being in control, and every gesture of his conveyed one clear message: I know more than you think.

Opposite him, in a wheelchair, sat Professor Charles Xavier. His gaze was fixed on the window as if searching for an answer beyond the confines of the room. A faint shadow of fatigue lined his face, yet his mind and spirit remained unshaken.

"You do realize that the government won't leave you alone now?" Fury began, his tone restrained yet firm. "A proposal has already been made for mandatory registration."

"I believe we can discuss this matter and find a compromise," Xavier responded gently but resolutely, shifting his focus to his visitor.

"Compromise?" Fury narrowed his eye. "When two monsters nearly reduced downtown New York to rubble and we couldn't do a damn thing to stop it, compromises lose their meaning. Fear has already taken root in people's minds. It's only a matter of time before they put you all on a list."

"And what do you propose?" the professor asked, his voice calm, though a flicker of tension passed through his eyes.

Fury straightened, his presence growing even more imposing.

"We need assurance that this won't happen again. If you had managed to capture Magneto, we could have salvaged the situation. But he's vanished. That leaves only one option: the X-Men must operate under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s command."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"That is not an easy decision," Xavier finally said, his voice quieter. "I am not prepared to take that step."

Fury sighed and rose to his feet.

"Then you'll have to fight for your rights, Charles. And know this I did everything I could. From here on out, you're on your own."

He raised his hands slightly, a gesture of detachment, then turned and headed for the door. His footsteps echoed down the empty halls of the school.

Xavier remained alone, once again gazing out the window. Beyond the glass, the school's green courtyard was filled with the laughter of children, but storm clouds were already gathering over their world.

"What about Escanor?" the professor asked, not looking away from the window.

Fury hesitated for a brief moment before answering.

"We're keeping an eye on him. We'll be watching," he said, stepping over the threshold.

The door closed softly, leaving Xavier in silence.

"What have you done, Erik?" the professor murmured, lowering his hand to his face. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet every word was heavy with sorrow. "You've only made things worse for the mutants."

The weight on his shoulders seemed to grow heavier. Every choice, every decision he made placed him between compassion and harsh necessity. At times, his actions justified the cause, but more often, they led to long nights of doubt and remorse.

POV Escanor

The first thing I did upon arriving in the city was head to the bank and withdraw a substantial amount of cash. Of course, since I was underage, I couldn't access all my funds, but a certain limit was available to me. On paper, I was legally a minor, but thankfully, I had been declared competent. S.H.I.E.L.D. had played a role in that. Sometimes, even that dubious organization could be useful.

Next on my list was finding a place to stay. I made a choice that most would consider strange, but to me, it was logical: the city's crime-ridden areas. This was where I could find the information I needed. If there was any place to uncover the truth, it was within the criminal underworld.

Yes, I had heard of the dark web, where almost anything could be acquired for a price. But my knowledge of computer technology wasn't nearly good enough to take that risk. The real world and my strength those were my true advantages.

I immediately dismissed the idea of settling in Hell's Kitchen. During the day, the area was almost lifeless, and at night… at night, I was weak. No, that neighborhood was too dangerous for me at the wrong time of day.

Instead, I chose the border zones places where crime still thrived but hadn't reached its peak. The streets were busy enough not to attract unwanted attention and dangerous enough to find the right connections.

I felt like I had taken my first step toward finding my place in this new world.

I managed to find a building where rooms were rented for cash. In areas like this, that kind of arrangement was common. For landlords, it all came down to one thing: taxes. Official transactions meant paperwork and a significant loss of profit. So, renting to someone without proper documentation was a risk they were used to especially in places like Hell's Kitchen, where many people were running from the law or their past.

I paid several months in advance and took the keys. The room was small, with peeling walls and creaky floors, but I didn't care. What mattered was that it provided a roof over my head and space to think. Settling into an old chair by the window, I began planning my next move.

Information. I needed people who could acquire it. And such people didn't operate in well-lit offices or on bustling streets. They hid deeper, at the very heart of the criminal world. But to gain access to them, I needed resources resources I didn't yet have.

Another problem was the time of day.

During the day, this area went about its usual routine, with crime lurking in the shadows. Everything I needed happened at night but at night, I was weak. Outwardly, I looked like a sixteen-year-old, and my body, though strong and resilient in daylight, lost its power after sundown. If I wanted to survive and achieve my goals, I needed to become stronger. Not just physically, but tactically as well.

My combat skills? Barely above better than nothing. That wasn't enough. I decided I would find someone to train me, but that, too, would take time.

There were still a few hours until sunset, so I decided to head outside. While walking, I hoped to find something like a martial arts school. Maybe even something underground.

I let out a bitter chuckle. Never did I think that, possessing such power, I'd be looking for ways to learn how to throw a punch.

To avoid attracting unnecessary attention, I suppressed my power as much as possible. To the average eye, I was just a tall young man with a well-built physique. My height still made me stand out that was impossible to hide. I wore a simple yellow t-shirt and black pants nothing remarkable. Before I left, Hank had given me a couple of outfits, and for that, I was grateful.

Stepping outside, I felt the sun slowly sinking toward the horizon.

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Hell's Kitchen. I had heard a lot about it. People said you could buy drugs on every corner and that gangs roamed the streets with weapons as if they were marching in a parade. But when I finally got here, I realized the rumors were greatly exaggerated.

Yes, the neighborhood wasn't safe, but on the streets, I saw regular people going about their business. Some of them carried weapons, but more for self-defense than aggression. Hell's Kitchen wasn't the insane war zone I had heard about. At least, not at first glance.

The moment I turned into an alley, the scene changed drastically.

In the dimly lit passage, I spotted two figures furiously kicking someone lying on the ground. Weak groans echoed off the dirty walls.

At that moment, I asked myself: Am I a hero?

Should I interfere? Sure, I had stopped Juggernaut when he threatened to destroy my hometown. Back then, I had no choice I had to protect my home. But now? This was just a street fight in an alley. Was it worth the risk for a stranger?

A sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Hey, blondie! What are you staring at? Looking for trouble?" One of the attackers had noticed my gaze.

I straightened up, meeting his eyes directly.

"None of your business, scum," I replied coldly.

The thug sneered, looking me up and down with disdain.

"Watch your mouth, pup, or maybe you've got an extra tongue?" he said, pulling out a knife. The blade gleamed under the dim streetlight. He started moving toward me while his friends stayed behind, still grinning over their victim.

My heartbeat remained steady. If they struck first, I had every right to respond.

I stepped forward, locking eyes with him. The moment he got close enough, I struck fast, sending him into the land of dreams. His body crumpled to the ground. The second thug, caught off guard, didn't even have time to react before I rushed forward. Grabbing both of them by the head, I slammed them together with enough force to drop them instantly.

It was over in seconds.

The man they had been beating slowly started to rise. His face was bruised, lips bloodied. He looked into my eyes, and in his, I saw both gratitude and fear.

"You… who are you?" he rasped, breathing heavily.

I averted my gaze.

"Just passing through," I muttered and walked out of the alley.

"Thank you… thank you…" the man stammered behind me, struggling to stand. He gave me a brief look filled with both appreciation and apprehension before hurrying away.

Ten seconds of my time, and someone got to walk away with just a few bruises. I watched him go, then turned back to the street.

Not lingering any longer, I resumed my search for a place where I could learn what truly mattered. I asked around, but the reactions were all the same some people scoffed, some waved me off, and one man even snorted and pointed toward the nearest gun shop.

"Buy a piece, kid. No one survives here without one."

His words stuck with me. It was advice worth considering.

But I had a problem I couldn't obtain a firearm legally. That left only the illegal routes… but going back to the same thugs I had just put down wasn't exactly an option.

Weapons. They could give me an advantage when I was weak. But without the skills and knowledge to handle them properly, I would still be vulnerable. I needed more than just a gun.

After hours of searching, I found a few places, but they were more like children's classes, teaching only basic techniques. There was nothing remotely close to serious training.

Frustrated, I stopped at a small park. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon, but the day was still warm. I sat on a bench, leaned back, and closed my eyes, feeling the last rays of sunlight on my face.

"Excuse me, would you take one?"

A female voice interrupted my thoughts.

I opened my eyes and looked up. A young woman stood before me, holding out a small flyer.

I glanced at her, studying her features. She was of Asian descent, with a pleasant face. Her hair was neatly tied into a bun, and a cap sat atop her head. She looked simple, but what caught my attention were her hands her palms were rough with calluses, and her knuckles bore signs of bruising.

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"Sure," I said, reading the flyer out loud. "Chikara Dojo accepting new students. Martial arts training for self-defense. Evening classes available."

I looked up at her. "Judging by your hands, you either train there or work there."

She smiled. "Yeah, something like that. I own the dojo. So, are you interested?"

"I was looking for a place to develop my skills," I admitted, standing up from the bench. My height made me tower over her.

"I welcome all students. I'm Colleen Wing," she said, extending her hand.

"Escanor Pride," I replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm too firm for an ordinary person. If she was ordinary, that is.

"Nice to meet you, Escanor," she said, tilting her head slightly.

"Likewise," I responded.

"Classes are held daily, so drop by anytime," she added.

I nodded in response. She gave me a warm smile, bid me a short farewell, and continued handing out flyers, disappearing into the crowd.

Strange. If the dojo was any good, why was the owner handing out flyers on the street? Surely, it would already have plenty of students. Then again… her hands told a different story. Rough skin, the marks of repeated strikes those only come from training without gloves.

Well, at least now I knew there was a place.

Turning the flyer over, I found the address. The dojo was just a few blocks from my place. Convenient.

"Why not?" I muttered to myself.

Might as well check it out. I'd attend a few lessons and see if the place was worth my time. And since I was less noticeable at night, I wouldn't attract too much attention.

For now, it was time to call it a day. I had scouted the area, and there was nothing else of interest for the moment.

Author's Note

So it's better without fillers, I take it? I wrote it test to understand in general interesting or not.

Thanks to all who comment and support the work