Training a group of rookies was simply a way to pass the time for Marcus. With nothing better to do while waiting for the mission, he might as well keep himself entertained.
"Since you've all asked for training, I won't hold back," Marcus announced with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I just hope you can make it to the end."
Despite his pleasant tone, everyone felt a chill run down their spines.
"Why do I feel like we've just signed up for hell?" Hank muttered under his breath. He had the distinct impression that their comfortable days were numbered.
The night passed uneventfully.
The next morning, while everyone was still peacefully asleep, Marcus quietly entered their rooms carrying buckets of ice water.
"WHAT THE—?!"
The collective howls of shock and outrage echoed through the facility as Marcus walked out, laughing to himself.
"You're still such a sadist," Logan commented from the balcony, puffing on his morning cigar as he watched the chaos unfold.
Marcus continued grinning, showing no remorse whatsoever.
"That's their first lesson—even in a supposedly secure location, they should never let their guard down."
Settling comfortably on the balcony railing, Marcus called out to the rooms still filled with cursing and scrambling:
"Ladies and gentlemen! Today marks the first day of your training. Are you ready for it?"
Minutes later, everyone had assembled on the lawn below, glaring up at Marcus with varying degrees of resentment.
"That was completely uncalled for!" Sean protested. "That water was freezing!"
"Of course it was cold," Marcus replied casually. "Would you have preferred boiling water instead?"
He raised his eyebrows and flashed them a mischievous smile. Looking at his unrepentant expression, they could only sigh in resignation. After all, they were the ones who had asked for his help.
Just as everyone was preparing themselves for whatever torment Marcus had planned next, Charles and Erik came running over.
"Sorry to interrupt," Charles announced, slightly out of breath, "but we've received intelligence on Shaw's location. We need to move immediately."
"Are you sure you want to take them along?" Marcus asked, nodding toward the untrained recruits. "Why not split into two teams? Logan can go with you while I continue training this group. If you need backup, we can join you later."
These young mutants could barely control their abilities—taking them on a mission now would likely cause more problems than it would solve.
Charles considered Marcus's suggestion thoughtfully. His original plan had been to bring everyone along, allowing them to learn through practical experience. But Marcus's point was valid.
This mission was too important to risk complications. They needed to capture Shaw and stop his plans.
"Alright," Charles agreed. "The three of us will go ahead. Keep everyone ready in case we need reinforcements."
With that settled, they turned to leave.
Logan shrugged helplessly at being volunteered. Still, he was getting bored hanging around the facility anyway. A mission would at least provide some excitement.
After seeing them off, Marcus turned his attention back to the recruits.
"Now that we're free from distractions, are you ready for some real training?"
His smile sent another collective shiver through the group, but no one backed out. They were tired of being treated like sideshow attractions.
"Excellent. Since nobody objects, let's begin.
"As mutants, you all have exceptional physical capabilities, but that's just the foundation. You'll need to continue developing your basic fitness on your own time. The training I'll provide will focus on combat skills and control of your abilities."
Marcus dragged out several large baskets filled with baseballs and other equipment.
"I assume everyone's played baseball? This exercise follows similar principles, but with some... modifications.
"Hank, you'll be the pitcher. Use your full strength to throw the ball to Sean. Sean, you're the batter—but instead of a bat, you'll use your sonic scream to direct the ball toward Darwin.
"Angel, your job is to intercept the ball as it approaches Darwin by firing your acid projectiles at it. Darwin, you need to adapt to whatever comes your way, then grab a fresh baseball from the basket and throw it in any direction.
"Hank, you'll need to catch that ball before it hits the ground, then restart the sequence."
Marcus then turned to the remaining two recruits.
"Raven, you'll be constantly shifting forms to create visual distractions while everyone else is working. You'll also operate this skeet launcher to fire targets into the air.
"And Alex..."
Marcus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of peculiar-looking gloves with intricate circuitry running through them. He tossed them to Alex.
"These gloves will help you control your energy output. All you need to do is focus your power through them and target the clay pigeons Raven will be launching."
The gloves were something Marcus had assembled the previous night, using electromagnetic field manipulation technology. They were essentially power regulators, custom-designed for Alex's specific mutation.
Alex walked to an open area to test them out. Within moments, his expression transformed from skepticism to amazement. For the first time, he could direct his destructive energy with precision.
"I can control it!" he shouted, his voice thick with emotion. "I can actually control my powers!"
He looked at Marcus with newfound respect. This was revolutionary—he no longer had to fear accidentally harming those around him.
"Now that you can control it, your real training begins," Marcus replied. "One more piece of advice for all of you: always stay alert to your surroundings."
With that cryptic warning, he waved dismissively and headed back inside, leaving the recruits exchanging confused glances.
They soon began their exercise. At first, coordination was a major issue. Hank's superhuman strength sent the baseball flying at incredible speed, making it nearly impossible for Sean to target accurately with his sonic cry.
But as time passed, they began to recognize patterns and anticipate each other's movements. Soon, they were working as a cohesive unit.
Hank leaped gracefully to catch baseballs thrown from unpredictable directions. Sean discovered he could modulate his sonic screams to change the ball's trajectory with remarkable precision. Angel's aerial maneuvers grew increasingly complex, her acid projectiles striking with improving accuracy. Darwin's body adapted instantaneously to whatever came his way.
Raven darted around the perimeter, firing clay pigeons in random patterns while shifting between different forms to create visual confusion. Alex, meanwhile, was making tremendous progress with his energy control, releasing blasts of varying intensity to shatter targets mid-air.
Just as they were beginning to gain confidence, they heard a mechanical clicking sound behind them.
"Time to increase the difficulty," Marcus called out, aiming an automatic rifle in their direction.
Before anyone could protest, the weapon began firing.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
The sound of gunfire filled the air. No one except Darwin was hit directly—Marcus was too skilled a marksman for that—but the bullets tore up the lawn around them, sending dirt and grass flying in all directions.
No one dared complain. They continued their exercise with renewed focus, trying to maintain concentration amid the gunfire, and persevered until Marcus finally called an end to the session.
By the time they finished, everyone was completely exhausted. Darwin in particular looked like he'd been through a war zone—which, in a way, he had. Not only had he endured acid burns and sonic impacts, but he'd also had to constantly adapt to deflect actual bullets. If not for his remarkable mutation, he would have been riddled with holes.