It was hard to believe that eight years had passed since the former students and faculty reunited with their teacher and confidante, Charles Xavier, at the site of their former school. Some were pleased to see the professor alive, while others were rightfully resentful of him for vanishing. But there were no excuses or regrets expressed by him. Instead, Xavier brought all of his colleagues and alumni to the entrance hall of his manor and presented them with a choice: "You can leave and resume your lives. Just know that you will always be welcomed back here—no questions about it. Or assist me with achieving my long-desired dream that every one of you believed in once. It will be a considerable and taxing effort that will always be constantly challenged without recognition from the world. But seeing a child feel valued and respected for the first time since their arrival will make all the hardships worth it in the end."

Some chose to leave for their own reasons, while others chose to remain and accept Charles' offer. Warren Worthington III was one of the few that stayed at the estate that evening. His reason was out of gratitude for the professor, who not only brought him to the school in its prime but fought tirelessly against his neglectful parents. The biweekly sessions with the Worthingtons were instrumental in building up their relationship over time. And, of course, it would've cost a fortune to renovate the estate—a fortune that he had through Worthington Industries. His father, the company's CEO, was more than eager to help out the mutant cause despite displeasure from the board of directors.

Warren examined the chandelier hanging over the renovated entrance hall with renewed purpose. To think it was initially lying on the floor, broken for decades before it was finally repaired. Now it was proudly displayed for new arrivals to marvel at. He heard a familiar feminine voice behind him, struggling to maintain her balance. "Mind helping me out with these boxes?"

"Of course," Warren shrugged at his friend, Monet St. Croix, before reaching for one of the boxes, not realizing how heavy it was. He nearly dropped the box on his feet. "Oh, shi-! What are you carrying?! Bell weights?"

"Textbooks." Monet said straightforwardly while climbing up the grand staircase.

Warren raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were going with digital textbooks?"

"Some, like me, still prefer print over electronic." Monet explained as she carefully took her final steps before making it to the second floor. She didn't realize that someone else was beside her until they grabbed a box, to her surprise and delight.

"At least you don't have to worry about papercuts with the digitals." Henry McCoy chortled while lifting the box over his shoulder with ease. He then started following both Monet and Warren to their destination.

"You done touring around the latest batch of students?" Warren asked, given that Henry's partner practically requested his help with the tour. Not to mention that the school year was officially going to start tomorrow, and students only had two days to settle into their new homes. And not to mention the mess from the New Year's celebration at the dining hall (he wasn't assigned to the clean-up team, thankfully).

"For now." Henry answered and then moved slightly ahead of the trio to hold the classroom door open. "I'm waiting for Bobby to come here with another batch shortly."

Monet entered her classroom, nodding at Henry to express thanks, and placed the box on one of the long wooden school desks. Then, she turned around to thank both of her assistants. "I appreciate the assistance, guys."

"Always." Warren put down his box on the teacher's desk. Henry followed his lead but placed the other box on the ground instead. "And if you need anything, my classroom's next door. So come fetch me if you need help with a rowdy student."

Monet chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Duly noted."

All three of them were startled by a knock on the door but only saw Professor Xavier at the entrance. His wheelchair stood out of the crowd because it originally had a sleek futuristic electric design. That was until the professor requested a change to manual for personal reasons. Other than that shift, much of it retained its original design, from the bronze metal parts to the light grayish-orange seating. It was quite a feat of craftsmanship. Xavier's hands were gripped to the metal handrims as he approached Henry with a warm smile while glancing over at the other two. "I believe someone's waiting for you with a bunch of impatient children downstairs."

They're already here? Henry told himself while nervously scratching the back of his neck. "I hope they didn't wait too long."

"Don't worry; I kept them busy for a minute with a quick summary about me." Xavier said almost in a calming manner, reaching out and touching Henry's enormous arm reassuringly. "And he's doing a good job managing the kids."

Henry, clearly more relaxed than earlier, gently grabbed the professor's hand and smiled softly before lightly jogging out of the classroom. "Thanks, profes... Charles."

Xavier turned towards Monet and Warren with a question while maintaining that warm smile. "Are the two of you ready for tomorrow?"

"Of course we are." Monet replied while pulling the textbooks out of the box on her desk.

"I heard earlier that you were down at the auditorium, practicing for the orientation." Warren said with such admiration that it made the professor blush. "I wish that I was there to hear you speak."

"I doubt rehearsing for a speech is as intriguing as you're picturing it." Charles laughed and then frowned for a fleeting moment so as not to alert them. "But I came here to see if either of you has seen Erik?"

Warren shook his head, but Monet responded with the answer. "I think he went to the gardens to meditate."

"Thank you." Charles thanked her and then departed with a farewell to the both of them. He made his way over to the elevator, wondering how rough the last couple of days had been for the faculty. The rather sudden announcement caught everyone, including himself, off-guard. But, there was no other option left in the campaign against the fanatical anti-mutant movement—seemingly spearheaded by President Robert Kelly. Charles had to know if the only sanctuary for mutants in the world was in danger. He needed to know if assembling the X-Men wasn't the mistake that would haunt him till the day he died.