Charles led Alex to test several more people, including children. Each person's C drive was around 100G, but younger people used less capacity.
"My theory was right," Charles said after testing over a dozen people. "Each person's C drive varies slightly but is about 100G. Usage ties to lifespan."
"You're probably right," Alex agreed, his expression serious. The comparisons convinced him.
A computer's C drive fills up over time, and Alex's digitized body followed the same rule, linked to his lifespan. He felt a wave of relief. He'd planned to copy more powers as the mutant team grew, but now he knew the risk. Filling his C drive could mean death.
Thankfully, he'd confessed to Charles, uncovering this limit early.
"Your power has room to grow," Charles said, focusing on helping Alex improve. His face showed a thoughtful expression as he considered the risks and limits of Alex's copying ability.
"Room to grow?" Alex asked, curious.
"Of course," Charles said confidently. "If your power is digitized, you should be able to delete as well as copy. You could remove unneeded abilities or even…" He paused, his tone turning grave.
Alex's eyes widened. "Even delete other people's powers?" he finished, excited.
Both took a deep breath. If true, Alex's power was staggering—not just copying but potentially stripping mutants of their abilities, reducing them to ordinary humans if used right.
"That's just a theory," Charles said, uneasy about the deletion idea. "Besides, you have three other disks—D, E, and F—that you can't access yet. We don't know what they do."
Alex nodded, intrigued. He'd wondered about those disks but couldn't open them. Charles was right—his power had untapped potential.
"You mentioned copying is slow and stops if interrupted, forcing you to restart," Charles continued. "I'll design physical training to boost your stamina. Then test if copying speeds up. Don't worry about capacity—just interrupt the copy before it finishes."
"That makes sense," Alex said. Testing copy speed was a smart way to check if his power could improve.
--------------------------
Over the next few days, Alex trained with the mutant team, exhausted by the intense workouts. But he felt his stamina improving rapidly.
Even if the training didn't boost his copying power, a stronger body couldn't hurt, right?
Alex knew the truth: he wasn't a true mutant. His powers came from copying Eric's genes. Without them, he'd be just an Awakened from his apocalyptic world, where zombies, evolved beasts, and Awakened with graded abilities emerged during the crisis.
As a first-level Awakened, Alex wondered if training could elevate him to second or third level, unlocking new abilities—like the D, E, and F disks or the deletion power Charles theorized.
Physical fitness was key. Even his copied magnetic power improved. Once limited to two or three pounds, Alex could now control over ten pounds of metal steadily. The progress fueled his motivation.
If just one week brought such gains, what could years of training do? Even without copying, mastering Eric's power could be formidable.
At X Academy, the mutant team trained hard to face the Hellfire Club. Outside, nuclear weapon deployment plans advanced. Moira, the CIA agent, visited or called with updates, warning that time was running out.
One night, Alex ran laps with dozens of pounds of weights, drenched in sweat. Hank, carrying hundreds of pounds, sprinted up, his face grim. "Alex, come back now! Eric got news about Shaw and went for revenge alone."
"What? Alone?" Alex's expression shifted. He dropped the weights and raced back with Hank.
The mutant team was gathered, including Moira. Worry and frustration marked their faces. Eric's solo move angered them.
Alex sighed inwardly. Eric's hatred for Shaw consumed him completely. His solo revenge was surprising yet understandable. In X-Men: First Class, Eric tried to stop Shaw's submarine, nearly drowning rather than letting go. Recent training must have boosted his confidence.
"What's the situation, Charles?" Alex asked, wiping sweat.
"I'll explain," Moira said. The CIA had tracked Shaw to a boat that night. She came to inform the team, but Eric overheard first and left without telling anyone.
"Alex, any thoughts?" Charles asked. Though Alex admitted his foresight was fake, his accurate predictions made him a key strategist.
Alex paused, considering his next move.
----------------------------------------
A cruise ship drifted on the river under a half-moon's pale glow, the night eerily calm.
Sebastian Shaw, in a crisp white suit, looked polished. Beside him stood Janos in a black suit and Emma in a sleek white outfit. The Hellfire Club trio discussed their plan to spark a U.S.-Soviet war.
In the shadows, Eric charged, dagger in hand. Charles's training had boosted his powers, and he felt confident facing Shaw alone.
But he didn't know Emma, the White Queen, was a mind-reader like Charles. As Eric attacked, she disrupted his mind, making it hard for him to use his powers.
"Long time no see," Shaw said confidently, eyeing Eric, who struggled to stand. "I didn't expect our little Eric to come at me with a knife."
A police boat sped through the waves, carrying Alex, Charles, and the mutant team, their faces tense. Eric's solo revenge had prompted Alex to rally the team.
Alex had briefed them on the Hellfire Club's key mutants: Shaw absorbed any energy, Emma used telepathy and could turn diamond-hard, Janos conjured tornadoes, and Azazel, the crimson teleporter, moved instantly. Eric couldn't face them alone.
Charles, also a mind-reader, knew he was the only one who could counter Emma. He'd agreed to Alex's plan to deploy the whole team.
"You're our only shot," Moira, in a life jacket, said seriously to Charles and Alex. Ordinary humans could do little in a mutant fight.
With Shaw's location known, the police boat raced toward the cruise ship. Soon, they spotted it—and the ship's anchor and chains thrashing like a snake, clearly Eric's work.
"They're fighting," Alex said. "Angel, Sean, check it out. Be careful." Angel's insect-like wings buzzed as she took flight. Sean activated his gliding gear, using sonic waves to propel himself. They soared toward the cruise ship.