Marvel: Sin Lord

The news came the next morning, delivered in the sterile chill of the Massachusetts Academy's briefing room. The Hellions sat around the table, their usual chatter subdued. Inarius leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, feeling the tension in the air. Something was wrong.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and a tall man dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit strode into the room. His cold, calculating gaze swept across the students, his presence commanding silence. He adjusted his crimson tie with an air of authority before he spoke.

"My name is Sebastian Shaw," he began, his voice deep and unyielding. "I'm here because Emma Frost has been… incapacitated."

Inarius straightened in his chair, his chest tightening. "What do you mean 'incapacitated'?" he demanded, his voice sharper than intended.

Shaw's eyes flicked to him, and for a brief moment, there was a glimmer of respect in his expression. "She's in a coma," he said bluntly. "She had an encounter with Jean Grey—Phoenix—and things didn't go in her favor."

A murmur rippled through the room. Inarius felt the words hit him like a physical blow. Emma, the one person he trusted, the one who had helped him begin to piece himself back together, was hurt. No—not just hurt. Beaten.

"Until Emma recovers," Shaw continued, "I will oversee your training. You may not like it, but this is not up for debate. You will follow my orders, and you will push yourselves harder than you ever have. Is that clear?"

The Hellions exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to speak. Inarius, however, couldn't let it go.

"Who is this Phoenix?" he asked, his voice steady but simmering with anger.

Shaw's gaze lingered on him, calculating. "Jean Grey is a powerful mutant with telepathic and telekinetic abilities. When bonded with the Phoenix Force, she becomes something far beyond that—a force of nature, capable of destruction on a cosmic scale."

Inarius clenched his fists under the table, his knuckles whitening. How could someone like that hurt Emma? And why?

"Enough questions," Shaw said, cutting off further inquiry. "Get changed. Training starts in ten minutes."

The session was brutal.

Shaw pushed them harder than Emma ever had. The Hellions ran drills, sparred, and tested their abilities against simulations designed to exploit their weaknesses. By the end of it, most of them were drenched in sweat and dragging themselves off the mat.

Except Inarius.

His anger fueled him, sharpening his focus and driving him to prove himself. Every strike, every movement, was precise and deliberate. He dominated his sparring matches and tore through the simulations with an almost mechanical efficiency.

When the session finally ended, Shaw approached him, clapping slowly. "Impressive," he said. "You have potential, Inarius. More than most."

Inarius didn't respond. His mind was elsewhere, still fixated on Emma and the Phoenix.

"Don't let anger cloud your judgment," Shaw added, his tone almost fatherly. "Harness it. Use it. But don't let it consume you."

Inarius nodded stiffly and walked off without a word.

That night, he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. The dorm was quiet, the rest of the Hellions already asleep. His body ached from the day's training, but his mind was too restless for sleep.

When he finally did drift off, the darkness was waiting for him.

The void wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket, pulling him back into the place he feared most. The pale figure was there again, its black eyes staring into his soul.

"Leave me alone!" Inarius shouted, his voice echoing in the endless void. "I don't know what you want, but I'm done with this!"

The figure didn't move, didn't speak. It simply watched him.

Inarius took a step forward, his fear giving way to anger. "You hear me? Leave me alone! I don't want whatever you're offering. I'm not your champion or prince or whatever the hell you think I am!"

For the first time, the figure stirred. Its head tilted slightly, and the oppressive weight of its presence seemed to lessen.

The darkness began to recede, the void unraveling like smoke in the wind.

When Inarius woke, his breathing was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest. But the fear that usually gripped him after those dreams was absent.

For the first time, he felt like he'd taken a step toward reclaiming some measure of control.