Cecily stood quietly beside the professor as he taught the class, her eyes drifting to the windows where dark clouds loomed ominously in the sky. The mood outside seemed to echo something unsettled within her.

"We'll continue this tomorrow," the professor announced, bringing the lesson to a close. "Class dismissed."

As the students filed out, Cecily walked alongside Charles toward the balcony, where they found Storm standing alone, her gaze distant.

"The forecast was for sunny skies," the professor remarked gently.

Startled, Storm turned around, her eyes dull and heavy with unspoken thoughts. "Oh, I'm sorry," she murmured. Almost instantly, the clouds began to part, revealing the sun once more.

"I don't have to be psychic to see that something's bothering you," the professor said, his voice filled with quiet understanding.

As the three of them walked through the mansion, Storm broke the silence. "Magneto's a fugitive. We have a mutant in the cabinet and a president who understands us," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Why are we still hiding?"

"We're not hiding," the professor replied calmly. "But we still have enemies out there, and I must protect my students. You know that."

"Yes, but we can't be students forever," Storm countered.

The professor chuckled softly. "Storm, I haven't thought of you as my student for years. In fact, I believe that one day, you might take my place."

At his words, Cecily quietly drifted away from the conversation. She had long accepted that she would never take the professor's place—she was fine with that. But the sting remained, a quiet ache from the realization that she had never become a teacher herself. Charles hadn't thought it was a good idea, so she spent her days by his side, always learning but never leading.

Cecily walked ahead to the door, pausing as she waited for Storm and the Professor to catch up. She stood aside, holding the door open as Storm pushed the Professor's wheelchair inside.

"Hank?" Storm called out, her voice tinged with surprise.

"Ororo! Charles," Hank replied warmly.

Storm quickly moved forward to embrace Hank. Cecily watched the reunion unfold. She knew Hank—had met him many times before—but their interactions had always been brief, leaving her feeling like a stranger in his presence.

"I love what you've done with your hair," Storm said, her tone playful.

"Mmm. You too," Hank replied with a small smile.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," he said, turning to shake the Professor's hand.

"Henry, you are always welcome here. You're a part of this place," the Professor assured him.

"I have news," Hank began, his expression turning serious.

"Is it Erik?" the Professor inquired.

"No, though we've made some progress on that front," Hank replied. "Mystique was recently apprehended."

Before Cecily could process the information, she jumped slightly at the sound of Logan's voice behind her. She hadn't heard him approach.

"Who's the furball?" Logan asked.

"Hank McCoy, Secretary of Mutant Affairs," Hank introduced himself, extending a hand.

"Right, right. The Secretary. Nice suit," Logan commented, walking closer with a casual air.

"Henry, this is Logan. He's, uh—" the Professor began.

"Wolverine," Hank interjected with a knowing smile. "I hear you're quite the animal."

Logan smirked. "Look who's talking," he shot back, eyeing Hank's beastly appearance with a playful glint in his eyes.

Cecily tried to focus on the conversation, catching bits and pieces about a cure, but soon it became too much. The voices, the chatter—it all began to blur together in her mind. She closed her eyes, stretching her neck in a vain attempt to clear her head, but the overlapping voices only grew louder, blending into an overwhelming cacophony. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she quietly slipped out of the room, desperate to escape the relentless whispers echoing in her mind.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Cecily stood beside the professor, her voice trembling as she confessed that her visions were intensifying, spiraling out of control. The whispers that had plagued her were now an unbearable torrent, leaving her on edge.

Without warning, the professor's voice echoed in her mind, repeating a single word over and over—"Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott." The relentless repetition sent a sharp pain through her skull. Desperate, Cecily clutched her ears, her nails digging into her skin as if she could physically block out the invasive thoughts.

"Professor?" Cecily whispered, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Before she could say more, the door burst open as Storm and Logan rushed in, concern etched on their faces.

"Professor, are you okay?" Logan asked urgently.

The professor's eyes were distant, focused on something far away. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady but filled with an ominous urgency. "Get to Alkali Lake."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The jet landed softly, the three of them stepping out into the dense fog that enveloped everything. "You don't want to be here," Storm murmured, her voice tinged with unease.

"Do you?" Logan countered, suspicion lacing his words.

Cecily couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The fog pressed in around them, thick and disorienting. "I can't see a damn thing," Logan muttered, frustration evident in his tone.

"I can take care of that," Storm replied. Her eyes glazed over as she summoned her power, the fog slowly lifting and revealing their surroundings.

As the mist cleared, the scene that unfolded was eerie—debris and objects floating around them as if suspended in time. "What the—" Logan began, but the words died in his throat.

A cold dread settled over Cecily, tightening in her chest. She watched Logan move through the space, his movements deliberate. He knelt down, picking something up from the ground.

"What did you find?" Cecily asked, as she approached him. Logan said nothing, just stared at the object in his hand—Scott's glasses. The familiar ruby lenses were cracked, lifeless.

In that moment, Cecily's world shattered. Her heart ached with the weight of grief, the urge to scream, to curse the universe, rising within her. Tears welled up, but she forced them back, holding onto the fragile threads of her composure.

"Logan!" Storm's scream pierced the air, and Logan sprinted toward her. Cecily, still in a daze, followed slowly, her mind racing as she tried to piece together what was happening.

As she finally reached them, she closed her eyes, desperately trying to steady her breathing. But when she opened them, her heart nearly stopped. There, before her, was Jean.

Cecily's breath caught in her throat, her breathing becoming erratic once more as the reality of the situation hit her. The sight of Jean, alive but impossibly changed, sent shockwaves of fear and confusion through her. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Cecily, Storm, and the Professor rushed into the infirmary, where they found Logan lying unconscious on the floor. Panic gripped Cecily as she ran to his side. "Oh my god," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Logan?" She gently shook his shoulder, trying to wake him.

Logan stirred, eyes snapping open, still disoriented. "Jean? Jean!" he exclaimed, still alarmed.

Storm quickly moved to his side. "What happened?"

But before Logan could answer, the Professor's voice cut through the tension. "What have you done?" His tone was grave as he assessed the situation.

Logan's gaze shifted to Cecily, who was still clutching his arms, her face pale with fear. "I think she killed Scott."

Cecily recoiled as if struck, her mind refusing to accept the words. "What?" She shook her head in denial. "No. No, that's not possible. She wouldn't."

The Professor's voice was heavy with regret. "I warned you. Jean has left the mansion, and she's trying to block my thoughts. She's become so strong... It may be too late."