When they entered Professor X’s room, he was already fast asleep.
He lay completely still, his expression peaceful.
“Bit of bad timing.”
Hawkeye kept his easy smile. “No worries, let’s wait a bit. Use this time to get to know each other!”
Bruce glanced at the frail figure lying in bed.
It was hard to believe that this withered old man was once the mutant leader Kathoom had spoken of.
He turned to look at the two other elders in the room.
One was slouched on the couch, taking deep swigs from a bottle, apparently far more interested in drowning himself in alcohol than in anything happening around him.
This was supposed to be Wolverine—Logan—the hero who’d saved the world countless times?
Ridiculous.
All Bruce could see was deep-seated weariness. There wasn’t a trace of heroism left.
Hawkeye, on the other hand, had an enthusiasm bordering on awkwardness, giving off the vibe of a quirky old man trying too hard.
So, this is what superheroes look like in their twilight?
Bruce felt his worldview shattering. “If I ever became a hero, would this be my future too?”
Nah, don’t worry.
Kathoom hurried to reassure him. If you stayed your old self, odds are you wouldn’t live long enough to grow old.
So no need to worry about it.
Bruce took a deep breath, steadying himself.
Kathoom’s words were somehow worse than a crow’s call.
“Want something to drink, Bruce?”
The elderly Hawkeye opened a decrepit fridge with the air of a grandfather rummaging for snacks, apparently forgetting it was Logan’s fridge, stocked only with alcohol.
After searching, he finally found two bottles of water, handing one to Bruce.
“Sorry, kid. This is all we’ve got.”
“Thanks.”
Bruce took the water, and Hawkeye sat down next to him.
“So, Bruce, where are you from?” Hawkeye asked, curious. “Did you come all this way on your own?”
Bruce shook his head and pointed to Kathoom. “No, I came with him.”
Hawkeye’s face lit up. “Ah, I see. You’re traveling with your animal companion.
“Back in my day, we had teammates with all sorts of animal pals—hawks, ants, raccoons, all kinds.”
He drifted into nostalgia, as if fifty years had disappeared in a blink.
Not wanting to interrupt, Bruce quietly sipped his water, waiting as Hawkeye continued to reminisce.
Hawkeye’s stories grew a bit intrusive.
“Once, I had a partner called Falcon. He could talk to birds, taught me a few tricks too,” he offered, eager to bond.
He looked at the owl perched on Bruce’s shoulder. “Want me to give it a try?”
Without waiting for Bruce’s answer, he tried engaging Kathoom.
“Hey, little bird, how’s it going?”
Kathoom: “Idiot.”
Still smiling, Hawkeye turned to Bruce. “See? Your bird just greeted me back.”
Bruce decided not to correct him.
Instead, he mentally scolded Kathoom, Can’t you be polite? The guy’s just an old man.
I’m the most refined owl in the whole damn universe, Kathoom sneered. When’s this poor sap gonna realize Professor X is already dead?
Bruce’s eyes widened. What?
—
Perhaps a world on the brink of collapse was destined to be unpredictable.
After Bruce subtly suggested checking on Professor X, Logan and Clint finally realized that the professor had passed quietly in his sleep.
They seemed prepared for this. In silent acceptance, they held a small, simple funeral for him and buried him near a lake, hoping it captured a fragment of the Xavier School’s former peace.
“May he find rest.”
Hawkeye knelt before the crude wooden marker that served as Professor X’s headstone, Logan standing behind him.
Their expressions were solemn but strangely serene. For Professor X, death was a release, a mercy in these dark times.
Besides, Hawkeye and Logan knew that they, too, would join him soon enough.
The only regret—
“He really wanted to meet you.”
Hawkeye stood and walked over to Bruce. “He called you ‘hope,’ which is why he guided you here. I’m not sure what he meant…maybe he saw you inheriting the mantle of a hero.
“I’ve got a lot of stories I’d like to tell you, about Captain America, Iron Man, Thor—all our old comrades.
“But there’s no time now, Bruce. I’m just glad I got to meet you before heading out.”
Professor X’s passing had sparked a firm resolve in Hawkeye.
He realized that he was on borrowed time. Death could come for him any day.
What he had to do couldn’t be delayed any longer.
If Logan refused to join him, he’d go alone—even if it meant total destruction.
Bruce’s gaze lingered on the professor’s grave.
It wasn’t his first encounter with death, but it was the first time he’d witnessed the end of a hero.
Bruce hadn’t known Professor X or the deeds he’d done. The few fragments he’d learned had come from Kathoom.
But whatever the past, Professor X had once burned with youthful passion.
Now, he had died in silence, without a coffin, his grave marked only by a plain wooden plank.
Bruce couldn’t help but wonder.
Would he end up like this? Would he spend his life fighting for justice, only to die in some forgotten corner?
Was that the cost of heroism?
Could he accept that fate?
Kathoom, Bruce suddenly asked, Is this why you brought me to this world?
Could be. Kathoom’s answer was vague.
Their conversation ended there, as Hawkeye prepared to leave.
When he passed Logan, Logan suddenly asked, “Where are you going?”
“You know where.”
Hawkeye forced a smile. “I’m off to New Utopia—to burn whatever youth I have left.”
“New Utopia?”
Then Bruce’s voice came.
“New Utopia…isn’t that what you call New York?”
The name “New York” still felt odd to him. In the DC world, there was no New York, only Gotham and Metropolis.
Hawkeye, too, seemed momentarily lost in nostalgia.
“It is,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Take me with you!”
Bruce didn’t hesitate. “I was planning to go to New York anyway. It’s easier with someone along.”
Hawkeye instinctively wanted to refuse. “What I’m about to do is dangerous…”
“I can take care of myself.”
Bruce cut him off, extending a hand toward a distant rock, which floated toward him at his command.
Logan, who had been silent, suddenly narrowed his eyes. “You’re a mutant?”
It was a logical assumption—otherwise, why would Professor X consider Bruce “hope”?
Bruce neither confirmed nor denied it, his gaze focused on Hawkeye.
After a long silence, Hawkeye finally nodded.
“Fine. But I’m only taking you as far as New Utopia.”
“That’s all I need.”
Bruce stepped beside him, ready to set off.
Then Hawkeye turned one last time, addressing Wolverine.
“Logan, you sure you don’t want to come?”
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