Cyclops

Scott Summers was the first. Before the school had a name, before the jet, before the dream had anyone to carry it, there was a boy who could not open his eyes without destroying whatever he looked at, and a teacher who told him that control was possible. The ruby-quartz visor is not a weapon. It is a promise he renews every waking second of his life: the most dangerous thing in the room, holding itself back on purpose. They call him the Boy Scout, usually while he is saving them. Field command of the X-Men has passed through many hands and always comes back to his, because tactics are what he does instead of blinking. The blasts are not heat and they are not light; they are pure concussive force from somewhere else, and the man behind them has spent his whole life doing geometry fast enough to use them gently.