Whether or not Howard Stark was a Mutant didn't really matter.
Tony wasn't going to exhume his father's grave to test for the X-Gene, and there wasn't any other way to verify it either. The truth would likely remain a mystery forever.
But Joseph's words had done what they were meant to do—he had planted a seed in Tony's mind.
And Joseph knew Tony well. Though the billionaire playboy wouldn't suddenly become hostile to Mutants, reinforcing a sense of personal connection to them could only be beneficial. A feeling of kinship, of belonging, could tilt the scales when it counted most.
See, Tony? You're not just our partner. You might be one of us.
And if the day ever came when Mutants truly needed him—how could he refuse?
After leaving Stark Tower, Joseph's next destination was Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
In the principal's office, the X-Men had gathered together, eyes fixed on the television. Professor Xavier sat quietly in his wheelchair, his gaze focused on the news broadcast playing out on-screen—footage from the disaster at the Hammer Expo.
"Boom!"
The air cracked as Joseph apparated into the room.
Logan was the first to speak, his voice gruff but calm. "Well, well, if it isn't the kid magician."
His injuries were long healed now, thanks in part to both Joseph's spell and his own powerful healing factor. He extended his bone claw and nonchalantly sliced the tip off a cigar before placing it between his lips.
"But let me ask you something," Logan muttered, the cigar dangling from his mouth. "I've only been your teacher for a few days, but before you go around casting spells on me, don't you think it's polite to at least let me know first?"
Despite his words, Logan wasn't truly angry. Maybe it was age. Maybe it was time. Or maybe it was because Joseph, for all his manipulation, still felt like a student. A gifted one, but a student nonetheless.
"My apologies, Logan," Joseph said with a slight bow. He rubbed his fingers together, and a small flame flickered to life in the air, floating gently toward Logan's mouth to light the cigar. "But let's be honest—you're not exactly a trained actor. If I had told you in advance, the performance would've lost its punch."
Logan took a drag from the cigar and exhaled slowly, nodding with begrudging approval. "Fair enough. For the flame, I'll let it slide this time."
Joseph grinned. "Actually, I'd like to make it up to you properly."
"Oh?" Logan narrowed his eyes. "What're you offering?"
Joseph's expression turned serious. "How about I help you recover your lost memories?"
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.
Logan froze, his entire body going still. "My memories?"
Even after everything he'd seen Joseph do, the idea seemed too good to be true. "You're saying you can do what Charles couldn't?"
"I said I'd try," Joseph replied. "I know a bit of memory magic."
Logan's gaze sharpened. He'd heard that before—"a bit." But with Joseph, "a bit" might as well mean "mastered."
The kid was a walking anomaly.
Jean Grey's eyes lit up. The memory of the heart-space encounter still lingered in her mind, and she leaned in slightly. "Logan, I think you should let him try. If Joseph says he's confident, then he won't disappoint you."
Storm and Cyclops exchanged glances, eyebrows raised. There was something different in Jean's tone when she spoke about Joseph.
Storm especially noticed it—and didn't like it.
She glanced around the room at the others, then back at Joseph. In just a short time, his influence had grown far beyond what anyone had expected. Whether it was the earlier training sessions or tonight's events at the Expo, Joseph had proven himself to be bold—dangerously bold.
He had known about Ivan Vanko's plans in advance.
He hadn't tried to stop them.
Instead, he had allowed the chaos to unfold... in order to boost the X-Men's public image.
He had cast an illusion on Logan to simulate serious injury—purely for public sympathy.
In Storm's mind, there was no doubt about it. Joseph was the most gifted student Xavier's School had ever seen.
But what if he went too far?
What if he followed a path similar to Magneto?
Storm clenched her fists. She had a duty. As a teacher, she had to guide him—before he lost his way.
"Enough," she said coldly, stepping forward. "We'll talk about Logan's memory later. Right now, Joseph, don't you think you owe us an explanation?"
Joseph blinked. "An explanation for what?"
"Don't play coy," Storm snapped. "Tonight. The Expo. I'll admit, your speech made sense. The X-Men should lead the way, step into the light, and give hope to other Mutants around the world."
"But that kind of visibility... it should be done with planning. With control. With preparation."
"You exposed us to millions of viewers—without warning!"
She wasn't wrong.
Even Logan, Jean, and Scott nodded in agreement.
It wasn't that they were against Joseph's vision. But they knew the world wasn't kind to Mutants. Sudden moves could bring sudden consequences. Governments. Surveillance. Threats.
If you're going to reveal yourself, do it gradually.
Bite by bite.
Otherwise, it's chaos.
But Joseph didn't flinch.
"And yet," he said, pointing toward the television screen, "we've already achieved results that months of preparation couldn't have."
The others followed his gaze.
News coverage of the Hammer Expo was still airing, and on the side, social media reactions scrolled like wildfire.
"In just a few hours," Joseph continued, "the internet has exploded with discussion. At least twenty percent of users are defending the X-Men. And Logan—Logan has become the symbol."
"There's admiration. Sympathy. Some people who were once indifferent to Mutants now see us as heroes."
He paused, looking at each of them in turn.
"Tell me—when was the last time Mutants got this kind of press?"
Storm opened her mouth, but Joseph answered his own question.
"Oh, right... it was during the push for the Mutant Registration Act."
That shut them up.
Because he was right.
Back then, Mutants had been branded as threats. Villains. Walking disasters.
Their names were plastered across headlines—always in connection with crime, destruction, or fear.
But tonight?
Tonight, the story was different.
This time, people were cheering.
"We forced the world to see us," Joseph said softly. "Not as monsters... but as protectors."
Storm hesitated. The logic made sense. But the ruthlessness... it worried her.
"I still don't like it," she muttered.
"You don't have to," Joseph replied. "But the world isn't changed through comfort. It changes through action."
"And right now?" He gestured toward the TV again. "The idea that Mutants might be heroes... it's already taken root."
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