Marvel: Monkey King

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The room was tense. Logan's fists were still clenched, his breathing just slightly heavier than normal. Hank adjusted his glasses. Storm's gaze flickered with curiosity. And Xavier? He had a lot of questions—but more than that, he had a feeling that dealing with this young man was going to be... difficult.

He decided to step back and reset the conversation. With a deep breath, Xavier spoke. "Let's start again, so we can talk more clearly."

His voice was calm, measured. He gestured to each person in the room. "I am Charles Xavier. This is Ororo Munroe. Henry McCoy. And the man currently restraining himself from tearing you apart is Logan."

Jack smiled, completely unfazed by the tension. He placed a hand on his chest, bowing dramatically. "Jack Hou, at your service."

Then—he straightened, clapping his hands together. "I actually just came here to settle my issue with Baldy over there for invading my me time while I was dancing. But now that we've resolved it…" He dusted off his black-and-pink hanfu robe. "I'll be on my way."

Jack turned to leave. 

"Wait." Logan's gruff voice stopped him.

Jack paused mid-step, raising a brow.

Logan took a step forward, eyes sharp. "You need to tell me how you know about my past."

Jack smirked. "Oh? But why?"

Logan's jaw tightened. "Because I don't remember it. And you—some guy who doesn't look a day over twenty-five—somehow do?"

Jack chuckled. Then, he turned to Logan fully, eyes gleaming. "I'll tell you."

Logan's muscles tensed.

Jack grinned wider. "But you have to earn it."

Logan scoffed. "What the hell does that mean?"

Jack pointed at him. "You have to fight me for it."

Xavier immediately tensed. "Jack—"

But before he could finish, Logan grinned. A sharp, feral grin. "Alright, bub. Let's go to the training grounds."

Jack raised his hands. "Whoa, hold your Tasmanian butt there, Logan."

Logan's grin faltered slightly. "...Tasmanian butt?"

Jack nodded seriously. "Yeah. You know, small, hairy, aggressive, makes growling noises—"

Storm snorted. Hank covered his mouth, hiding a chuckle. Logan exhaled sharply. "Just say when and where."

Jack grinned. "I'll fight you."

Logan nodded.

Jack paused.

Then, he rubbed his stomach. "After I eat."

Logan deadpanned. "...What."

Jack stretched his arms. "C'mon, man. You think I'm gonna fight on an empty stomach? That's barbaric. What kind of savage do you take me for?"

Logan's eye twitched.

Jack grinned wider. "Let's do dinner first. Then we can fight to the death or whatever."

Storm and Hank turned to Xavier.

Waiting for his decision.

Xavier sighed, rubbing his temples. "Logan, as much as I know you want answers... we do need the information he has."

He exhaled. "Ororo, please take him to the cafeteria."

Jack beamed. He stood, extending his hand toward Storm in an elegant, noble gesture. "Would you kindly lead me to the eternal paradise?"

Storm tilted her head. "Eternal paradise?"

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "Oh, I apologize. I mistook you for an angel—with such beauty, how could I not?"

Storm blinked. Then, she let out a soft chuckle. "You are insane."

Jack grinned. "And yet, here I am. Alive and thriving."

She sighed, motioning for him to follow. "Come on. Before I change my mind."

Jack happily strolled beside her, hands behind his back.

As Jack and Storm walked off, Xavier turned to Logan. Hank crossed his arms, watching Jack leave. "Well. He's certainly… eccentric."

Logan grunted.

Xavier folded his hands together. "Logan, I know this situation gives you hope. But I want you to be prepared."

Logan frowned. "Prepared for what?"

Xavier's gaze was calm, steady. "Prepared for the possibility that he might not tell you anything at all."

Logan's jaw clenched.

Hank nodded. "We just want you to know that you have family here. Even if you never regain your memories, you have a new life with us."

Logan's head lowered slightly. For a moment—just a brief moment—he looked... tired. Then—he exhaled sharply, nodding. "Yeah... I know." But his fists were still clenched. Because no matter how much they tried to prepare him—He needed those answers. And if he had to beat them out of that lunatic in pink and black robes? So be it.

…

Jack strode into the cafeteria, flanked by Storm. The moment he stepped inside, dozens of eyes turned toward him. Students of all ages were gathered, divided into their own cliques and circles. Some were eating, chatting, laughing. Others were deep in discussion.

But the moment a mysterious man in a pink-accented hanfu walked in beside Storm—

Silence.

Jack paused, placing a hand on his chest. "Wow. So many kids." Then, he smiled. "It's like walking into a high school cafeteria in an anime—where's the protagonist with crazy hair?"

A few students chuckled under their breath. 

Storm sighed, shaking her head. "Just grab some food, Jack."

Jack nodded sagely. "Right. Energy for the upcoming battle."

With that, he gracefully glided toward the food counter. As Jack moved, he took a mental note of the different groups around him. There were distinct cliques, each forming their own micro-kingdoms within the cafeteria.

The future leaders, the responsible ones, the ones who train harder than anyone else. Seated at one of the larger tables were the late-teenagers, the older boys.

At the head—Scott Summers (Cyclops). Posture perfect, eyes hidden behind his signature visor. Always looking like he was one bad decision away from giving a leadership speech.

Beside him—his younger brother, Alex Summers (Havok). Unlike Scott, Alex had a casual confidence, leaning back in his chair, smirking at something Bobby said.

Bobby Drake (Iceman) sat across from them, laughing. A guy who had the power of ice but the personality of a warm, friendly golden retriever.

Armando Muñoz (Darwin) was next to Bobby. Smiling. Calm. Relaxed. The kind of guy who never panicked because his power literally made sure he couldn't die.

The others at the table were older mutants training under the X-Men.

This was the "big brother" table—the guys who trained the hardest, took on the most responsibility, and were expected to be the next generation of X-Men.

Jack tilted his head. "Ah. The future heroes club. The protagonist table."

Scott glanced at him, then back to his food. 

Alex snorted. "What the hell is that guy wearing?" he muttered to Bobby.

Bobby grinned. "Bro, I think he's cosplaying as a Kung Fu master."

Scott sighed. "Logan brought him in. That means we take him seriously."

Jack caught Scott's gaze for a moment. Then—he winked. Scott brow raised, intrigue.

And on the other side of the table. The mischievous ones, the energy, the troublemakers, but also the ones with potential. If Scott's table was the big brothers—Then this was the little brothers.

At the center—Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler). Excited, chatty, telling a story while animatedly using his tail to gesture.

Next to him—Jamie Madrox (Multiple Man), nodding along—until his body split into another copy of himself just to argue with himself.

Across from them—Roberto Da Costa (Sunspot), smirking, leaning back. He was the kind of guy who looked like he should be on a yacht, sipping a cocktail, but instead, he was here making sarcastic comments.

Beside him—Samuel Guthrie (Cannonball), who always looked like he was just about to do something reckless.

Then there was Tenzin—the bald, young monk, the outlier in the group. Unlike the rest, he sat quietly, sipping his tea. He was the balance in the storm of chaos around him.

Jack nodded to himself. "The troublemakers. The next generation of little shits."

This was the group that would sneak out past curfew, prank teachers, and still somehow save the day when it counted.

Jack grinned. "This is my kinda table."

Scattered throughout the cafeteria were the students who preferred quiet. Some sat alone, reading books. Others were watching Jack carefully, trying to figure out what his deal was.

Jack noticed a few girls whispering about him. He grinned, flipping his hair dramatically. "Yes, kids. I am this handsome naturally."

Storm raised an eyebrow. "Are you just categorizing them in your head?"

Jack shrugged. "No, I'm profiling them so I can manipulate them later."

Storm stared at him.

Jack grinned. "Kidding. Maybe."

Storm sighed. "Just get your food."

Jack grabbed a ridiculous amount of food, carrying his overloaded tray to the younger boys' table.

THUMP.

His tray hit the table, stacked with absurd amounts of chicken, mashed potatoes, cornbread, and a sketchy-looking green smoothie.

Kurt blinked. "Wow, zat is… a lot of food."

Jack grinned. "Guten Abend, my blue friend."

Kurt smiled, tail flicking. "Ah, you speak German?"

Jack waved a hand. "Nope. I just like pretending I do. Also a warrior's strength is directly tied to his digestion."

Roberto raised an eyebrow. "That makes no sense."

Jack grinned. "Exactly."

Tenzin took a sip of his tea. "Are you a mutant?"

Jack paused mid-bite. Then, he leaned forward dramatically. "No."

The kids leaned in.

Jack whispered. "I'm actually a government experiment. You ever heard of Project Banana?"

Jamie blinked. "Project… Banana?"

Jack nodded seriously. "They injected monkey DNA into a human fetus to create the ultimate warrior. But I escaped."

Silence.

Then—Tenzin smiled. "You are joking."

Jack grinned. "Or am I?"

At the older kids' table, Scott glanced over. 

Bobby leaned toward him. "Dude. Who is that guy?"

Scott adjusted his visor. "Logan dragged him in earlier. No idea."

Alex smirked. "He's sitting with the kids. Thinks he's one of them."

Armando shrugged. "He acts like one of them."

Then—they saw Jack stand up.

Holding a piece of cornbread above his head. 

"THIS BREAD—IS A SYMBOL OF LIFE ITSELF."

"Soft on the inside. Hard on the outside. And best served with butter."

The entire cafeteria went silent.

Scott sighed, rubbing his temples. "Never mind."

Logan stood in the doorway, arms crossed. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't annoyed. He was watching. Because Jack wasn't normal. He wasn't just an idiot talking nonsense.

There was something behind those golden eyes. Something dangerous. And Logan was going to find out what. One way or another.

**A/N**

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