Marvel: Starting with the Homelander Template

A week passed in relative calm, though under the surface, the gears of fate continued to grind.

From the peaceful green lawns of the Xavier Institute to the bustling city streets beyond, the world remained unaware of the storm slowly brewing.

Then came word from Charles Xavier himself.

Jean Grey—one of the most promising telepaths of her generation—had officially enrolled at the Institute for Gifted Youngsters. She would now be studying alongside some of Charles' finest protégés: Havok, Banshee, and a host of other talented young mutants.

"Well, isn't this interesting," Alex said when he heard the news. His voice was casual, almost dismissive, but there was a flicker of amusement behind his eyes, a knowing look that hinted at the larger implications of this development.

In both the comics and the films, Jean Grey and Scott Summers—Cyclops—were practically destined for one another, their romantic bond often portrayed as unbreakable. But now? Now, due to Alex's unexpected involvement in this universe, the two lovers had been forcibly kept apart, separated by circumstance and timing.

In the original timeline, their relationship wasn't merely coincidental. It was orchestrated—engineered, even. Mister Sinister had deliberately paired Phoenix and Cyclops, believing their genetic combination would produce an offspring powerful enough to challenge even Apocalypse himself.

But this was no comic book panel or cinematic adaptation. This was the real world—this version of it, at least.

Though Mister Sinister did exist here, it remained to be seen whether his goals aligned with his comic counterpart. Perhaps he still sought the perfect mutant child… or perhaps his ambitions had taken a darker, more twisted turn.

Either way, Alex was intrigued.

What would become of Jean and Scott now? Would fate pull them back together, or had Alex's interference permanently rewritten their destinies?

Of course, this was little more than idle speculation. He wasn't some puppet master playing matchmaker. He had no intention of meddling further—for now, at least.

But the universe had a way of answering questions in the most chaotic of ways.

Neither Alex nor Charles could have foreseen what happened next.

Just days after Jean's arrival at the mansion, a towering figure—broad-shouldered, muscle-bound, with golden-blond hair that gleamed like burnished bronze—approached the Institute's gates.

His steps were slow, deliberate, each footfall leaving a faint tremor in the ground.

His name was Cain Marko.

To the average onlooker, that name might have meant nothing. Just another man.

But to those familiar with the deeper lore of the Marvel world, the name carried weight—destruction, power, unstoppable force.

Because Cain Marko was more than just a man.

He was the Juggernaut.

That's right.

The being recently awakened in the shadows by Mister Sinister himself was none other than Juggernaut—Charles Xavier's estranged half-brother.

Their history was long and ugly.

Cain and Charles had grown up together, but their lives had taken vastly different paths. While Charles excelled academically, socially, and morally, Cain had floundered—constantly compared, criticized, and condemned.

Their father, a cold and abusive man, had heaped praise upon Charles while beating Cain down—figuratively and literally.

The resentment had grown like poison in Cain's heart.

And when their father died, Cain didn't mourn. He ran. Ran far away from home, from Charles, from everything.

As a result, Raven—who had lived with Charles since childhood—never once met the mysterious Cain.

Years later, in 1950, during the brutal chaos of the Korean War, fate brought the brothers back together.

Both were drafted, serving in the same unit by chance or destiny.

Their reunion on the battlefield was tense, filled with unspoken animosity, but they managed to fight side by side… for a time.

Then came the ambush.

Surrounded and outnumbered, they were forced to flee deep into the forest, evading gunfire and enemy patrols. As night fell and bullets whizzed overhead, they stumbled across a crumbling cave, its entrance partially hidden by undergrowth and shadow.

Desperate for cover, they ducked inside.

There, buried beneath layers of dust and decay, was something ancient. A crumbling temple, almost alien in design, its architecture unfamiliar and foreboding.

At its center stood a glowing altar—and upon it, a single, pulsating crimson gem.

The Gem of Cyttorak.

Cain, reckless and brimming with rage, reached for it without hesitation.

The moment his fingers brushed the gem, the temple quaked.

The ceiling collapsed.

Charles barely managed to escape the falling rubble. But Cain? He was buried alive.

Or so everyone believed.

In reality, the gem's magic had bound itself to him, transforming Cain Marko into something far more than human. His body became a vessel of destruction, his spirit infused with the essence of the unstoppable.

Then, for decades… silence.

Until now.

Until Sinister found and awakened him, drawn by the raw, ancient power Cain now possessed.

And with his awakening came one burning desire: revenge.

He didn't care how many years had passed. The anger hadn't faded—it had fermented, becoming something toxic and permanent.

In his mind, Charles had left him to die. Had abandoned him in that collapsing tomb.

Now, he would return the favor.

Cain stood before the gates of the Xavier mansion, staring at the sign mounted proudly on the iron arch: Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

His brow furrowed.

A school?

This was his childhood home.

Since when had it become a sanctuary for mutants?

For a fleeting moment, doubt flickered in his eyes. Had he come to the wrong place?

No.

He recognized the trees, the fencing, even the faint smell in the air.

This was it.

This was where his life had unraveled.

And now it would burn.

"Charles, I'm here!" he growled.

The words were less a greeting and more a challenge.

Crimson energy surged across Cain's body, armor materializing over his thick frame. His muscles bulged, reinforced by the unstoppable magic of Cyttorak.

The Juggernaut had arrived.

BOOOOOM!

With a single punch, he shattered the wrought-iron gates, splinters of metal soaring into the air like shrapnel. The sound echoed like a thunderclap.

Then he marched forward, each step a seismic event.

Inside the school, chaos erupted.

"What's happening?!"

"Did something explode?!"

Students spilled into the halls, faces pale, eyes wide.

Outside, they saw the approaching titan—a hulking mountain of muscle and rage stomping toward the building.

Panic spread like wildfire.

"Who is that?!"

"He's like a… a monster!"

Their fear was palpable.

But the Juggernaut didn't care. He ignored their screams, focused only on one name.

"Charles! Get out here!"

His bellow shook the mansion's walls.

And then—

"Who dares to cause trouble here? You've come to the wrong place!"

The voice cut through the panic like a blade.

Havok had arrived.

Alex Summers stepped into view, his expression cold and resolute. Clad in black and silver, he stared down the Juggernaut without flinching.

"Stop right there and identify yourself, or I won't hold back." He raised his hand, red energy humming at his fingertips.

"Trust me—you don't want to see me angry."

Cain laughed. A deep, guttural sound that echoed through the air.

"What kind of insect dares yell at me? I'll crush you!"

The gem's influence had amplified more than just his strength. It had ignited his fury, dulled his empathy, sharpened his bloodlust.

There would be no reasoning with him.

Havok sighed. "Well, you asked for it."

With a quick motion, he unleashed a beam of red plasma, crackling with heat and force.

It struck the Juggernaut dead-on.

But Cain didn't even flinch.

He kept walking—through the blast, through the smoke, through the fire—like nothing had happened.

The beam dissipated against his armor like water hitting steel.

"What?!" Havok staggered back, disbelief etched across his face.

Not a scratch.

Not even a mark.

He'd never seen anything like it.

And deep down, for the first time in a long while, Alex Summers felt something he rarely did.

Concern.

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