On this day, Eric and Hank talked freely and talked until late.

Hank gave him a tour of his studio, showed him important equipment, and introduced him to some familiar faces---- including Nick the Fat Man, Mariano the Young Man, etc.

They are all frequent visitors here, and they usually volunteer to help Hank do what they can, and it doesn't seem that the relationship is very good, but in fact, these are enthusiastic people, quarrels are common, but there is no malice, and people are very high in the mutant circle.

Hank's studio is primarily for mutants. Some mutants have incomplete genetic awakening and are born with certain defects that make it difficult to live a normal life, so they need Hankmin's serum to help. This serum has been researched decades ago, first for Hank himself, so that he can suppress the mutation of his body, and later also once provided to the young Professor X, making him numb. Drunk yourself and regain the ability to walk on your feet. But this serum has a certain danger, if the dose is too large, it may have the opposite effect of the expectation, so that the mutation is stubbornly retained on the body---- just like the current beast Hank, who would have thought that this blue-haired rough man was a beautiful researcher decades ago?

The other type of user is a mutant who has been modified by various forces, such as Fat Nick. His experience is suffocating, he used to be as young and enthusiastic as Mariano today, revered Magneto, and treated him as his own idol to obey his orders, but after a mission failure, he fell into the hands of the notorious mutant enemy military scientist General William Stryker, and was transformed into a monster with an alloy blade all over his body, and finally escaped, and was abandoned by the organization. Usually he looks like a normal person, just a sub-alloy skeleton, but once his ability is out of control, his whole body will convulse, and his bones will turn into sharp blades that pierce the skin and flesh and stretch out of the body, and the pain is unbearable even if he has a slight ability to heal himself. And this loss of control is cyclical, and without serum suppression, he would have probably been wildly trying to end his life.

The last type of people, who are not genetically defective and simply want to live a normal life, are always hiding their heads and tails, coming and going in a hurry, and rarely communicating with their fellow citizens. They want to distance themselves from the mutant community. Even with such an indifferent attitude, Hank embraces them and provides them with pro bono services as much as possible like the first two.

Knowing this, Eric's already high opinion of Hank was once again raised, and the status of this beast in his mind was close to or even better than that of Professor X: he really did what he could for the mutants.

Look at the long-used but well-maintained microscopes, pipettes, and petri dishes in the studio, look at the expensive and sophisticated centrifuges, autoclaves, biochemistry analyzers, and look at Hank's white-washed coat and cuffed coat, and think about how much he has paid for the mutants. Hank McCoy is not a rich generation like a professor, he does not have a strong family industry behind him, and unlike Magneto, he can do whatever he wants, and every step of his career is bought by perseverance and courage.

"This is the uniform that the professor prepared for you." Opening a box, Hank pulls out a suit of clothes and shows it to Eric.

"Yellow?" Eric asked, the uniform was obviously different from the black and orange leather armor X-Men uniforms worn by Scott and Jean, and it was a bright yellow and black outfit.

"Yes, yellow." Shaking off the shirt, the talkative Hank fell silent, his eyes clouded as if he was reminiscing about the past.

"Yellow was the original style and we wore it the first time we acted. Charles, Eric, Raven, Alex, Sean, and me, we were all young and wanted to have a career...... Unexpectedly, after the first battle, Eric fell out with Charles, and Raven went with him. We never wore it again, and the uniforms didn't continue to be designed, although Charles and I kept the original one. ”

"Some time ago, Charles asked me to customize a uniform from Stark Industries, and an idea popped into my head: why use the current uniform? We're going to change it, change the style! I talked to Charles about my thoughts, and we thought about it. Can you believe it, that day we were so excited that we couldn't sleep all night, as if we had gone back decades, thinking about everyone we knew in the past like an old man, and then decided to customize this outfit. Black symbolizes the suffering that mutants have endured and are suffering, and yellow is our indelible pursuit of light. We should go back to the original starting point and not repeat the mistakes of the past. ”

"I'm sorry I didn't ask for your opinion, but I really hope you enjoy it."

Hank said, holding his clothes in his hands.

"I love it, really."

Eric stretched out his hands and took them solemnly.

The moment the uniforms changed hands, the bodies of the two shook at the same time, and an invisible responsibility seemed to be passed down from the previous generation to the next at this moment.

"I will fight for the unarmed."

"I swear to protect my fellow brothers."

"I will give a helping hand to those who ask for help."

"I'm going to fight back with a qiē mistake."

"I will stand up to rape."

The knight's proverbs, which he had heard in a certain world he had been to, resounded in Eric's heart at this moment, like the roar of a bell, and he followed the voice in his heart and muttered it.

A divine radiance of humanity seemed to fill the bottom of his heart, washing over the almost solidified blood from the world of the main god.

The crimson memories did not fade, but gradually became crystal clear, and it was the sublimated consciousness that made him dare to face his past again, and then enter a new realm.

Hank looked at the young man opposite, silently feeling the change in him, he was coming out of the shadows that words could not describe, and the closer he got to the light, the last trace of worry in his heart disappeared.

"It's too heavy to say that's always going to be too heavy, so let's change the subject. You've been in the academy long enough during this time, why don't you go to the city to relax, I've asked a friend to get your documents, and you can go shopping on the street with confidence. Westchester is known as a wealthy area in the country, and the girls are pretty and bold, and you can't be sure what adventures you'll have. Hank winked his eyes and gave Eric a card.

"Now, change your clothes and go out with confidence. I'll take a leave of absence from Charles, and you can have a few days of fun before you officially join, young man. ”

***

Saying goodbye to Hank, Eric did not wander into the city, but found a bench to sit down by a nameless creek in the suburbs.

As a reincarnation who used to be wide, shopping is really boring.

I have been surrounded by queens and princesses of the Champs-Élysées and painted their faces with my own hands, I have swept Antwerp like a tyrant with sacks on my back, I have rudely packed diamonds cut like stars in the sky, I have led armies and trampled the capitals of the world under my feet, so that emperors bend their waists and nobles prostrate themselves.

Even if it falls for a while now, what does it matter.

The greatest happiness is to be able to re-experience life and change the mistakes you have made.

Protect what should be protected, and smash what should be crushed.

With this in mind, Eric sat by the quiet river, listening to the murmuring of the water, the chirping of birds, and the moon and stars, and spent the night on the bench.

When I was thinking about it, time flew by, and in a blink of an eye, the sun rose and the moon set, and the morning arrived.

The river began to pass by6 years after a while, most of them were residents who came out to the vicinity, and most of them were young men and women, and the rather youthful girls glanced curiously at the benches, looking at their energetic fullness, Eric couldn't help but be a little intoxicated.

The boredom after recovering his memories a few days ago dissipated a lot during the night after resolving his conversation with Hank.

After all, it is a new life, and we must face it with a new attitude.

I'm going to paint a beautiful picture on this blank piece of paper, Eric said to himself.

Then he heard someone read out the words of his heart.

"I'm going to paint a beautiful picture on this blank piece of paper." A bearded man with a sketchpad said this, making the passing girl giggle.

"I'm an artist, not a playboy, you know I'm inexperienced, I just want to leave the beauty on paper and keep it forever, and when we're old, we can point to the paintings of that year and say: Look, we used to have such a youth---- we shouldn't live up to it, shouldn't we?" The mustache twists the paintbrush and leans diagonally against a tree to strike up a conversation with an athletic girl.

"Forget it, do you want our contact information next, I don't want to mess around with an old man who smells of alcohol early in the morning, you just want to pull us to the bed, don't underestimate us." The girls were so shrewd that they didn't take the bait at all, and after a few laughs, they ran away with a smile.

"Old man?" The mustache suffered a great blow, and fell to the tree with his chest clutched in grief, and the leaves of the tree rattled.

Eric watched this scene and felt very interesting. The story of the wits of the ** and the smart girl, he shook his head and planned to stand up.

"Don't move!" The mustache suddenly picked up from the blow and shouted at him. "Don't spoil my inspiration."

The mustache said, picking up the brush and moving quickly on the drawing board, as if there was really a spark of thought.

Eric sat back and waited with interest to see what he was up to, when a stupid sled dog lay at his feet, sticking out his tongue and gasping for air.

Eric stroked the sled dog's head, and the guy stuck to him, leaning his face over for him to scratch, a pleasant purr coming out of his throat.

The owner of the dog was a beautiful lady, and her tight tracksuit showed off her delicate curves perfectly, and she was standing curiously next to the mustache, looking at his paintings.

The mustache drew quickly, and it was quickly completed, and the lady stared at the drawing board, and she couldn't help but laugh at what she saw, and the mustache took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with her, and after a while the two of them began to talk as if they were familiar with each other.

"I gave it to you. Remember, this is Tony Stark's masterpiece, keep it safe, and it will increase in value in the future. The mustache said arrogantly, threw the sketchpad to Eric, put his hand on the woman's waist, and the two walked away laughing.

Eric was a little surprised, he didn't expect to meet the producer of the uniform here, he broke into the main god space, he hadn't seen anything before, he didn't care about this kind of publicity, but he was a little curious about what tricks this playboy used to make the beauty happy.

He privately speculated whether he had deliberately ugly himself or had drawn something funny.

Flipping through the drawing board, Eric smiled dumbly: there was only a bench on the drawing board, and an exaggerated sled dog next to the chair, but he was nowhere to be seen.

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