Marvel: Sin Lord

The Massachusetts Academy buzzed with the usual hum of activity. It had been a month since Inarius Morningstar arrived, and while the adjustment had been rocky, he was starting to settle in. The Hellions were a surprisingly tight-knit group—except when they weren't.

Inarius found himself fitting in well with most of them. Tarot had a quiet, almost mystical charm that he found intriguing. Catseye's playful nature reminded him of the innocence he'd lost long ago. Jetstream and Thunderbird both treated him like a younger brother, ribbing him with jokes but showing him the ropes. Then there was Empath—Manuel de la Rocha—a walking storm cloud of smug superiority and underhanded jabs.

Inarius tried to ignore him. He really did. But something about Empath's smirk and the way he spoke down to everyone rubbed him the wrong way. And it was clear that Empath felt the same way about Inarius—if not worse.

The only person who seemed to truly understand him was Emma Frost. She wasn't just a mentor; she was the closest thing to family he'd had since Alex. She was helping him control his powers, yes, but more than that, she was helping him heal. Slowly, he was learning to trust her, even when he didn't trust himself.

Training sessions were always intense. Today, the Hellions were practicing precision combat in a simulated environment. The goal was simple: incapacitate the holographic opponents without damaging the surrounding area.

Inarius summoned his sword, its purple glow lighting up the room like a beacon. He moved swiftly, cutting through the enemies with practiced ease. But as he swung at one hologram, his focus wavered for just a moment. His blade struck a pillar in the simulation, causing the entire structure to destabilize.

The simulation froze, and the room's lights flickered back to normal. Empath's slow clap echoed across the training hall.

"Well done, Morningstar," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Truly, your control is awe-inspiring. I'm sure the Academy will recover from your... brilliance."

Inarius clenched his fists, his sword dissipating in a flash of purple energy. "Back off, Manuel."

But Empath wasn't done. He smirked, leaning casually against a wall. "What's the matter? Mad because you can't handle a little pressure? Or is it because you know you don't belong here?"

That was it. Something inside Inarius snapped. The air around him seemed to grow heavy, charged with energy. His hand shot out instinctively, and a tendril of purple light connected him to Empath.

Empath's smirk vanished as he gasped, his knees buckling. Memories flooded into Inarius's mind—acts of manipulation, cruelty, and selfishness. He saw every moment of pain Empath had caused, every sin he'd committed. The weight of it made Inarius's stomach churn, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

"Inarius, stop!"

Emma's voice cut through the haze like a knife. The tendril of light snapped back into Inarius, and he stumbled, panting. Empath collapsed to the floor, trembling, his usually sharp eyes wide with fear.

Emma knelt beside Empath, placing a hand on his forehead. Her eyes glowed faintly as she scanned his mind, her expression darkening.

"Inarius," she said without looking at him, her tone calm but firm. "Go to my office. Now."

"But—"

"Now."

He hesitated, guilt clawing at his chest, but eventually, he turned and left.

Two hours felt like an eternity. Inarius sat in Emma's office, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts—most of them terrible. What if she kicked him out? What if she told the other students what he'd done?

Finally, the door opened, and Emma walked in. Her face was unreadable as she closed the door behind her and took a seat across from him.

"I'm not angry," she said, breaking the silence.

Inarius blinked. "You're not?"

"No. I looked into Empath's mind. He used his powers to provoke you intentionally, hoping you'd lose control and get yourself expelled. He wanted you gone."

Inarius frowned. "Why?"

"Jealousy," Emma said simply. "He doesn't like sharing attention, especially mine. But that doesn't excuse what you did. Your powers are dangerous, Inarius. You can't let your emotions control them, no matter how justified your anger might feel."

He nodded, shame washing over him. "I know. I'm sorry."

Emma leaned back in her chair, studying him for a moment. "You and Empath need to find a way to coexist. To that end, you'll be sharing a room with him from now on."

"What?!"

Her tone brooked no argument. "Consider it an opportunity to learn restraint. And maybe, just maybe, you'll both grow from the experience."

That night, Inarius begrudgingly moved his belongings into Empath's room. He sat on his bed, his arms crossed, glaring at the floor.

Empath walked in not long after, his expression just as sour. "Well, isn't this cozy," he muttered, dropping his bag onto his bed.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Empath spoke.

"You're not the only one with a sob story, you know."

Inarius glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

Empath sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Everyone thinks I'm some spoiled rich kid who gets off on messing with people. And maybe I am. But I've got my reasons."

"What reasons could justify what you've done?" Inarius asked coldly.

Empath hesitated, then said, "You want to see for yourself?"

Inarius hesitated, then nodded. He reached out, his powers connecting them. For the first time, he saw Empath's life—the isolation, the expectations, the constant pressure to be perfect. He saw a lonely boy who lashed out because he didn't know how to ask for help.

When the connection broke, Empath was staring at him, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"Happy now?" he muttered.

Inarius shook his head. "No. But I get it."

Empath smirked faintly, though it lacked his usual malice. "Well, don't get too comfortable. I'm still better than you."

Inarius rolled his eyes, but for the first time, there was no anger behind it. "Sure, Manuel. Whatever you say."

That night, they fell asleep in the same room—not as enemies, but as something resembling allies.