So right after Professor X sent out that psychic "GET OUT" vibe, Lin Fan felt it. Right in the forehead. Like someone stabbed him with a mental toothpick.
"Ow. Okay, rude," Lin Fan muttered, rubbing between his eyebrows. "Baldy's got hands—mental ones."
Now, normally Lin Fan wouldn't even flinch if someone dropped a nuke on his head. He could literally take a bath on the sun and come out looking fresher than a spa day. But this? This was a different kind of pain.
Psychic pain. The worst kind. No bruises, just vibes.
But before you could cue the dramatic anime music, Lin Fan's eyes flickered gold. The Mind Stone in his infinity gauntlet glowed like it just remembered it had rent due.
Poof. Pain? Gone.
Professor X blinked. "...That's not supposed to happen."
In his mind, X was like, Wait. What? I just mind-punched this guy and he shrugged it off like I tickled him?
Lin Fan stared back with a grin. "Yo, you done? That tickled."
Behind him, Psylocke folded her arms. "You know, if you're done flirting with Charles' brain, we still have a mission."
Then X, ever the tactician, had an idea: Fine. If I can't beat the boss, I'll brainjack the minions.
He redirected his psychic assault toward Psylocke and the Hellfire Seven.
"Really?" Lin Fan said, deadpan. "You're going after my party members? I just unlocked those!"
With a flick of his hand, the Mind Stone pulsed. Suddenly—
BOOM.
The courtyard trembled like it had seen things it couldn't unsee.
X's face went pale, and not just because of the wheelchair tan. He spat blood. Not figuratively. Literally.
"Wha—?!" the X-Men gasped.
Psylocke raised an eyebrow. "Did you just psychic-slap Professor X?"
"I defended myself," Lin Fan said innocently, Mind Stone still glowing like a smug lamp.
But the fight wasn't over.
X's eyes turned red—literally. Veins popped up like horror movie decorations. He pressed a button on his wheelchair, and boom! Out popped the iconic brainwave helmet: that weird, clunky, noodle-filled dome of doom.
Cyclops muttered, "Uh-oh. He brought out the hat."
Beast whispered, "When Charles puts that thing on, you run."
With the helmet snug on his bald dome, X floated off the ground, his wheelchair spinning in a psychic whirlwind. It looked like a magic trick gone wrong at a circus.
A spiritual storm formed—translucent, violent, world-ending. Even Lin Fan had to admit...
"Okay, that's impressive."
Behind him, one of the Hellfire guys screamed, "I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR PSYCHIC HURRICANES!"
Everyone watched as Charles Xavier unleashed his full might—the mind of a god, turned into a cyclone of pure pressure.
Psylocke gritted her teeth, shielding herself. "That's not psychic power. That's a mind-based natural disaster."
Lin Fan just stood there, admiring the chaos.
Then he slowly raised his left hand—the one wearing the Infinity Gauntlet.
"Alright, Baldy. You're strong. Honestly, props. Strongest mental power I've seen."
He smiled.
"And now I'm gonna cheat."
SNAP.
The sound echoed like a mic drop from the universe itself.
Instantly, silence.
The storm stopped mid-spin. Xavier's chair thunked back to the ground like an old office chair losing air pressure. The clouds broke apart and sunshine hit him square in the face like a spotlight saying, "You tried."
Xavier blinked up at the sky.
"I... failed."
Lin Fan walked over, offered a little wave. "You did great, man. Seriously. A for effort. But these," he raised the gauntlet, "are basically cheat codes."
Psylocke sighed. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
"Yeah," Lin Fan replied. "But I'm winning."
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