Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 5738 - 4761: X Royal Family: Rebirth (Part 1)

With the words spoken, Professor X’s expression shifted. He scrutinized Cyclops for a considerable duration, remaining silent.

"Regardless, I am profoundly sorry." Professor X inhaled deeply, his rationality finally reasserting itself. Shiller alone detected a distinct coolness within the ebbs and flows of his brainwaves, reminiscent of a tempest.

Within the span of a mere minute, Professor X had reverted to his customary gentle demeanor. He even dislodged the Fourth Generation Brain Wave Amplifier Helmet from his head, his azure eyes deepening, resembling the tranquil Crystal Lake adjacent to the Clarkia Royal Court.

"There's no need for apologies, Professor..." Cyclops attempted to offer comfort to Professor X. He understood implicitly that perfection was not a prerequisite for anyone. To his perception, Professor X was already sufficiently flawless, and any missteps, even those that had impacted him directly, ought not to be scrutinized excessively.

"I am not apologizing for that." Professor X regarded him with an entirely altered disposition—a visage far more genuine, stripped of its pretense of affection—an observation that nearly paralyzed Cyclops, leaving him both astounded and deeply unnerved.

In the fleeting instant of their exchanged gaze, Cyclops felt as though he had connected with an entire planet. As immense as Earth, yet as inconsequential as Earth. As his senses amplified exponentially, his sense of self began to erode, supplanted by something immeasurably vast and potent that inexorably permeated him. This entity was known as X Power, ingrained within his very genes yet never fully acknowledged, and at this precise moment, within the consciousness of Professor X, he redefined his own existence amidst the grand tapestry of the cosmos and innumerable celestial bodies.

Cyclops abruptly snapped back to awareness, recoiling a step. Gabriel swiftly moved to steady him, directing a hostile glare at Professor X.

Cyclops gently patted Gabriel’s hand, halting his advance. He drew several quick breaths, and the opulently adorned, magnificent expanse of the Shi’ar Empire Palace gradually refocused within his vision. However, this sensation was disquieting; in comparison to such an overwhelming sensory influx, the tangible world appeared muted, and even the grand capital cities of the Three Great Empires seemed to have lost their former brilliance.

"Scott." Professor X’s tone resonated like the initial drops of rain preceding a downpour, "I trust you now comprehend that if I so desired, I could effortlessly expunge all your memories, leaving not a trace, not even your very personality. Therefore, the tragedy that transpired today is attributable to my choices, not a simple oversight."

"It is not that I am overly severe with you; quite the contrary, perhaps our shared history has tempered my resolve. I implemented no drastic alterations; any modifications to your memories were executed with extreme caution and restraint—I concede it was an error, for had it not been for that lapse, you would never have had the opportunity to encounter him."

Cyclops remained rooted to the spot, utterly dumbfounded. Professor X continued, "Otherwise, you would never have entertained the notion of sacrificing yourself to secure power for him. Scott, regardless of your personal assessment of me, I have never viewed the X-Men as mere instruments of war; you are my students, my children, and your very existence represents the culmination of my life’s work. Should you wish to squander all of this for the imperial ambitions of another, I assure you, destroying you would be a futile endeavor for them; you are aware of my capabilities in that regard."

"No, Professor." Cyclops stepped forward, extending a hand, "You must have misunderstood; I did not..."

"He manipulated you." Professor X met Cyclops’s gaze directly, "He concealed his avarice for power beneath your aspiration to elevate mutant capabilities. Irrespective of his persuasive tactics, his intention was to control you."

"But the Shi’ar Empire could indeed serve as a..."

"Scott, you are not thinking clearly." Professor X expressed disbelief, "With the ongoing turmoil on Earth unresolved, how much capacity do we possess to meddle in the internal affairs of the Three Great Empires? It is abundantly clear that past failures have not impressed upon you the inadequacy of force alone, and prior to embarking on any interventionist course, you must first ascertain your limitations."

"Furthermore, you should not perceive me as that type of individual." Professor X’s voice carried a hint of vexation, "How could I, after your repeated sacrifices, possibly dispatch you into yet another conflict for the so-called future of mutants? Each instance of your demise pulls me further from the dream of a mutant homeland, rather than drawing me closer—I shall never seek to inhabit such a place; you are actively dismantling my Utopia!"

With those pronouncements, he turned and departed, leaving Cyclops in a state of utter bewilderment. Shiller cast a brief glance at Cyclops, deeming it prudent to afford the siblings some private time. He then proceeded to seek out Professor X. Upon reaching the palace rooftop, or more accurately, the precipice of a terrace atop a spiraling staircase, he discovered Professor X. The latter was gazing intently into the distance, where a cataclysmic battle raged amidst the towering, alien architecture. The city he once called home was succumbing to destruction.

"Were you awaiting me, Professor?"

Professor X slowly pivoted his head towards Shiller, who was immediately assailed by potent brainwaves, conveying a palpable undercurrent of cold fury.

Shiller stood alongside Professor X, both their gazes fixed on the city in the distance. He remarked, "When the manipulation of memories was uncovered, you must have been plagued by guilt, questioning if your urge for control was excessive. Yet, the outcome proved you were never truly formidable enough."

"The vacuum you leave will invariably be filled by others. What these new occupants will do with your students remains unknown. Warfare, slaughter, treachery – anything is conceivable. Perhaps the professors from alternate universes didn't relish such harsh measures either; they simply had no alternative."

"I had anticipated you would attempt to persuade me that seizing control of the Shi’ar Empire was the optimal path," Professor X stated. "We could have allowed mutants to establish a foothold and flourish here, much like in your own reality."

Shiller offered a gentle shake of his head. "My ambitions have always been centered solely on you all."

He then turned to face Professor X. As their eyes met, Professor X could discern no hint of falsehood in Shiller's declaration.

"No nation, faction, or resource can rival humanity," Shiller continued, drawing a soft breath. "All transformations within the cosmos must originate from a transformation within humankind. Securing political legitimacy for Clarkia, dismantling the Red Orchid Factory, and restructuring the Shi’ar Empire are but instruments, not ultimate objectives."

"Validating Clarkia serves to alleviate your existential unease. Eradicating the Red Orchid Factory removes impediments to human unity with you. Reorganizing the Shi’ar Empire aims to reunite estranged kin and to illuminate the true courage required to 'never abandon any mutant.'"

"Rescuing the frail and downtrodden mutants poses little challenge for you; even when confronted with immense peril, you can face it head-on. But what if a mutant is powerful, self-reliant, and harbors intense animosity towards you? How would you then proceed?"

Within Professor X's mind, the lingering ice began to recede, signifying his serious contemplation of the matter.

As Shiller elucidated, it became evident that mutants cannot all be weak, and Clarkia cannot limit its focus solely to safeguarding vulnerable mutants in distress. If their aspiration is to genuinely serve as a sanctuary and haven for mutants, confronting those powerful mutants who stand opposed will be the true test.

Should they evade confrontation, they invite a harsh strike; engaging directly would violate their own principles, leading to internal conflict and an unnecessary drain on mutant strength. Unable to fight, unwilling to kill, and finding recruitment exceedingly difficult – what course of action remains?

Professor X had long understood, just as Shiller articulated, that for mutants, issues resolvable by brute force were never the true problems. Their offensive capabilities were more than adequate, even excessive. The genuine obstacles, and their persistent Achilles' heel, lay in matters demanding careful deliberation, multi-faceted strategies, nuanced approaches, psychological acumen, and political shrewdness.

Regrettably, mutants were likely to encounter such complex dilemmas at every turn. Their adversaries would not be simpletons, nor were they typically weak. Even humanity, in its fragile individual form, had managed to conceive of entities like the Red Orchid Factory, posing a significant threat to them.

Concurrently, Professor X grasped that the mutants within Shiller's central universe had undoubtedly forged their position not merely through physical might. They must possess an exceptionally refined level of political adeptness to maintain stability both on Earth and amongst extraterrestrial civilizations.

A dual domain signified amplified opportunities, but it invariably meant doubled adversaries. Engaging with terrestrial politicians on one front while confronting alien powers on another – their current achievements were well-earned.

Professor X let out a soft sigh and turned his gaze back to Shiller. "You desire that I articulate my thoughts, and so I shall. Might I have the opportunity to meet the mutants from your universe?"

"Indeed, Professor. It would be my pleasure," Shiller replied with a smile.

As the setting sun bathed the distant structures in a warm, golden light, the grand palace seemed to diminish in scale against the majestic rings of Proxima Centauri. Two smaller figures began their descent down a winding staircase.

"I am curious: you possessed the clear capacity to execute this with far greater subtlety, ensuring no one recognized your involvement in the Shi’ar Empire's machinations. Why then, reveal yourself so openly?"

"No entity in existence can employ Shiller without a price. It is preferable for the Multiverse to learn this truth sooner rather than later, thereby preventing falls into cleverly laid traps by other Shillers."

"So, this is merely a measure of foresight? Yet, I sense you are primarily seeking to circumvent inconvenience, unwilling to have numerous universes seeking aid from the central universe?"

"I do harbor such considerations. As I've stated, we do not subscribe to interventionism."

"Even unsolicited assistance is not welcomed?"

"Had circumstances been different, I might have welcomed anyone seeking aid. However, I now possess a clearer understanding of why my companions prefer dedicating their time to leisure, dining, and festive gatherings."

"And what about your own price? I’ve heard your consultation fees are exceptionally steep."

"That's true, I always demand a high price, but you have settled the debt."

"Settled the debt? What did you take?"

"Clarkia Island is truly a captivating place, an outstanding vacation spot. Thank you for extending the invitation; we shall have a most agreeable time." Shiller offered him a smile.

Professor X came to a halt, while Shiller continued on his path. Professor X observed him as he slowly vanished around the bend, as if he had momentarily grasped a fundamental truth hidden behind inscrutable cosmic principles—a truth as straightforward as could be, yet overwhelmingly profound.