Blacklight. His "cheat" granted to him during his arrival to this new world. It was his only tool to even the playing field against all the dangers of this universe, and yet he hadn't the faintest clue on what it was, why he got it, and how it worked. Which was why it was figuring it out was basically priority number one once he finally secured a safe space for himself in the form of the X-mansion. It took a few weeks but he finally managed to confirm a few facts.

Using his powers without turning into a monstrosity was surprisingly enough actually really, really, reallly fucking difficult. Seiously why was there such a tendency for pulsing veins, spikes, and all the black and red?! Asethics asides, he was pretty happy with what he figured out. It took a long time and a lot of trial and errors to understand his new body and powers, but he worked out some of the mechanics behind his transformations.

1. Manual: He had to manually come up with and figure out forms for his shapeshifting, but it wasn't as easy as "imagine it" or "moving your body mass into the shape". Materials, structural composition, and muscle attachment. A sword made of muscle tissues and a sword made out of bones were completely different things after all. Having a sword arm was cool and all but how does one use it, how do the bones and ligaments have to shift to compensate for proper motor control and range of movements? He had to mess with his genetics and use all his creativity to make things. THEN he had to make it not seem so... Grotesque or something out of Freddy Kruger's nightmares. Wouldn't do to scare Jean or make Charles weary of him.

2. Assimilation: If he ate someone or something with said structure and ability he could comprehend it naturally and recreate it or modify it as need be. Andrew had no idea how to form proper feathery wings, and his attempts were only aesthetic at best like cosplay prop, but after eating quite a lot of chicken and turkey he managed to acquire the DNA and blueprints to them. He couldn't go around eating people and the idea of catching a random pigeon or rat to eat almost made him puke, so he just went to the supermarket for his supply of genetic information. It seems that completely Consuming a creature made the process far faster and efficient rather than only bits and pieces of the body, and he gained memories better from eating grey matter. Gross.

Also apparently the fresher the meat the better he could absorb and learn from it. Not that he was ever going to dive into a chicken's memory ever again. In fact, he was considering going vegan from now on. Nothing like experiencing being an animal in a slaughterhouse to put you off the stuff, quite frankly he almost considered asking Professor X to remove the memories from him.

It was that traumatic, and suddenly he felt a strange kinship with a certain green boy in another universe.

3. Was... Pretty fucking gross and stupid in his mind. It was basically to randomly unlock segments of his DNA, or rather infect other things and start fucking around with their DNA until something useful happens, but he'd rather never do that if he could. That was how you get zombies or cancerous eldritch abominations. He wouldn't submit anyone to that hell, so he only does small tests to himself, like on a finger. Since he had complete control over everything comprising his body, even if he fucks up he could easily break that part down back into basic Biomass and reabsorb it so there was no danger done.

Finally, 4 was the basis of all evolution, just sped up by a lot... Like a metric shit-ton. If he trained in certain actions or his body was under enough external stimulus and stress he would naturally be able to adapt to it. Well, nothing too useful at the moment. Playing with the stove's fire and the icebox only gave him slightly higher resistance to temperatures, and by that he meant after fucking around for 2 weeks he could go around in winter in shorts or summer in a sweater and be perfectly fine. It seems actual pain and danger were needed to get any real tangible results.

So unless he planned to get the crap utterly beaten out of him on a daily basis for the next month or two he probably won't get any tougher in a meaningful manner.

It was a bit frustrating, but then again also a relief.

With great power comes great responsibility, and although he made promised himself to change and work harder, old habits were hard to break and he wasn't quite ready to enter any suicidal training montage like other Isekai or Wuxia main characters.

Man, if only he could eat books instead. Maybe something like the gamer to convert skill books into powers? Why did it have to be super cannibalism?

School was pretty easy considering he was 16 before he died, but Xaiver was pretty damn strict. After the man pulled some strings to falsify/make him a government I.D the man sent him straight to the local school, along with home tutoring for Jean and Andrew after every session of training in their powers. Maybe it was because the man was a child genius? He always kept pushing Andrew regardless of how well he did. At this rate, they'll breeze through the entire high school curriculum!

I'm not a prodigy, damn it! I'm just a lazy guy trying to turn in his homework early so I have more time to play around and train! Stop giving me more work! I don't need to be challenged!

At least Bayville high was a lot nicer than his old high school. There were only a couple pieces of gum stuck under his desk instead of the 2-3 dozen he was used too!

Now that was classy.

Well, being the smartest kid in class for once didn't hurt, although it did kind of hurt his pride that Jean was somehow keeping up with him regardless of his "slight" advantage. Seriously, this 11-12 year old was catching up to him at a scary rate and his pride was crumbling beneath her relentless drive for academic pursuits because damned if he lost but damned if it wasn't a lot of work. He idly wondered if he could get enough DNA and Biomass from his teacher's hair or dead skin cells to learn everything in one go.

Maybe a prank gone wrong that "unfortunately" led to Mr. Burns's hair all being shaved off..?

At this point, he was almost tempted to try the insane idea. Seriously, he wasn't even human and functionally didn't need to eat, sleep, or piss. HOW WAS SHE OUT STUDYING HIM?!

Utterly ridiculous bullshit. Darn MC like characters and their genius. He didn't even want to know what kind of crap Tony Stark could pull outta his ass at their age. Especially since as he learned more and more materials to keep up with Jean he truly got a scope of how utterly insane and incredible making the ironman suit in a fucking cave was.

"...Oh my God. I'm fucking retarded..."

Andrew facepalmed so hard he almost felt like he got a concussion. The reason for his outburst? The realization that he was a shapeshifter.

A no brainer right? Of course, he knew that! He used it on a daily basis back at the mansion. No, rather it was an application of the power that he simply forgot about and or rather didn't think on.

He could have just morphed his body back into his 16-year-old form. He was so confused about his general situation and why his "default" body was de-aged that he forgot it didn't fucking matter. Truly stupidity at its finest. Alas, it was too fucking late and he'd have to put up with another half dozen years before Professor X would let him do stuff on his own. Damnit, now he'd have to wait 8 years to drink instead of 5... Double damn it, he could've gotten his driver's license and permit here by now! But nope, he had to be an idiot, and now he was suffering from the consequences of his stupidity. Walking everywhere, being stuck waiting for the bus, and riding in utterly disgusting subways.

If only there was a faster way to get around places.

While Marvel didn't have the best record of leaving the space-time continuum the fuck alone, he wasn't about to web swing and chance fucking up Spiderman's gimmick. He still had another handful of years until Peter was ready to hit the town.

"What does "fucking retard" mean?"

His eyes widened in horror was a young girl's voice sounded out behind him. A glance backward proved that, yup, little Jean was standing behind him with her head tilted adorably towards the right in confusion, face scrunched up ever so slightly at the unfamiliar terms.

"N-nothing!" Crap. He felt like someone with his pants caught down and quickly stammered out a reply. He could tell by the look in her face she only grew more curious at his reaction, so he took a deep calming breath and spoke slower this time. Play it off casually as they say. "It's nothing, and you shouldn't say those words."

"..? Why not..?" Wide innocent green eyes stared at him, her head slightly tilted to the right in confusion.

"Because they're bad words, and you're a good girl."

"But you said it..?"

One panicked half-assed explanation later that basically boiled down to "Because I said so" and "Please don't" and bribery of a triple scoop ice cream sundae later and he finally managed to get his ass out of the fire. He muttered a soft apology to God for doubting him and a prayer of thanks later on for somehow managing to get out of that fuck up.

Kids swearing on Vine and Youtube was funny, but corrupting such a sweet angel like lil Red was practically a Sin.

"Ok, I won't tell anybody 'bout the bad words." she said as she ate a big spoonful of strawberry ice cream with sprinkles on top. His was a more modest single scooper.

Andrew didn't even manage to let out a full sigh of relief before almost choking on his Mint Chocolate chip as the little "Angel" finished her sentence.

"Today, but if you wanna keep my mouth shut you'll have to keep taking me out for Ice Cream. Every... Week. Let's do Saturday!"

... Holy shit, he was getting blackmailed by a 12-year-old. Wtf. He'd probably be a whole lot less amused at the situation if she just wasn't so cute. This Cinnamon bun was a bit spicy it seems.

"Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain. I'll keep paying you your "hush money" now hurry up and let's get back." Little did he know just what exactly he signed up for and how much money he'd lose.

And so, even years from now when the X-men assembled, Saturday night was always Ice Cream Night.

"... No way, that's totally cheating. That's so unfair..." Andrew gave a half-hearted and feeble protest at the unrepentant and blatantly cheating girl. He gave up winning any arguments against her a long time ago, no matter how well structured his points were in his head, any defense against her mere crumbled away. He quickly learned when something was a lost cause, life was simply easier when he just let her have her way.

"Bleh," Jean stuck her tongue out at him while pulling her right eyelid down "the rules doesn't say that I can't use my powers." And how could one even begin to disagree with such outstanding logic? Although he was also pretty sure whoever invented baseball never imagined men and women being able to move things with their mind in the future or casually breaking the laws of physics.

"...Fair enough." He nodded along.

He didn't say anything else in response, but he felt as if the deadpan look he gave her was more than adequate to convey how full of shit he thought she was. Seriously, how the fuck was he supposed to catch the baseball when she was using her powers to make it fly away from him?! All the while the smug little shit was slowly strolling from 1st base all the way to home. He could jump pretty fucking far if he says so himself, especially if he enhanced his legs with extra Biomass. He could even stretch out his limbs or extend his arms into a rocket punch or something.

He could jump over the goddamn mansion if he wanted too!

All of that meant jack shit in front of her telekinesis though. Worst of all she was taunting him by hovering it juuuust barely out of reach. Playing sports against a cheating telekinetic was decidedly not very fun. He wasn't playing with her, he was being played by her. Oh well, at least they weren't having a water fight this time.

Getting slam dunked into the fountain once was more than enough, thank you very much.

Suddenly a devious idea popped into his head as he made a show of bending his knees deeply for another jump, an arm reached out as far as he could. Jean was smart and had already analyzed and mentally noted down the limits of how far his arm could stretch. Observant little thing she was, but that was precisely how he was going to get her.

She had just made it halfway to third base, walking backward as she watched him struggle. She hovered the ball a good foot out of reach. Right as his momentum started dying down from the jump she lowered the ball to keep pace with him, that was when a smirk grew on his face. Predicable.

Just as planned. You fool! You've fallen right into my trap, muhahahaha- I really need to stop doing this.

Andrew made a mental note to himself for future reference, because he'd probably die from embarrassment if any telepath mentally eavesdropped on his internal bullshit. He'd have to pack up and move to Mexico, or Wakanda or Atlantis or someshit and start a new life.

"Wha-what the-?!" She was so shocked that she tripped and landed on her butt as she stared with mouth wide open. To her credit, she did quickly got a hold of herself, but unfortunately not quick enough.

He swiftly raced over and tagged her with the baseball. The girl sputtered for a moment before huffing in defeat. It wasn't every day when your friend literally detaches his hand in a rocket punch to win at a kids' game of baseball after all.

It was a neat trick he learned to do recently, and by that, he meant within in the last half minute or so. As a virus hive mind thingy, he wasn't actually limited by "human" physiology, but rather he was only mimicking its body and function since it was what he was used too. So, why couldn't he separate parts of himself?

Lo and behold turns out he could!

... Shit, he probably shouldn't let anyone else know he could split himself off, this just screamed "trump card" or "Clone Saga Fuckery."

Another bribery of sugary goodness convinced the redhead to keep quiet about this too. Man, at the rate he was burning through his cash he was going to need to get a job or something. Or maybe he should pick up night strolling again?

Somewhere out there in the criminal underground of New York, a bunch of smaller gangs felt an inexplicable shiver crawling up their back as a certain X-man in training contemplated the benefits of beating them up for money to binge on ice cream with his friend.