The steady hum and beep of the monitors connected to the stasis tube filled the room. In it’s own way it was semi soothing to anyone in the room. A delicate and decidedly feminine hand trailed across the glass of the tube. In deep concentration, Jean’s eyelids fluttered as her mind reached out to the young man in the tube. Calvin Rankin, the mutant known as Mimic, lay prone in the tube after his battle with the X-Men.
Behind the redhead, Logan stood at full attention his arms crossed over his chest per usual. The typical grim, no nonsense look pasted upon his face. Softer and friendlier was the personage of Ororo beside him. Flowing white locks trailing down her back, her head turned to regard her best friend. The two women shared an unspoken exchange as Jean slid from the trance.
“So what’s the prognosis, Red? Ole’ Mimic gonna be getting up anytime soon?”
Her hand slid away from the glass, as Jean’s eyes drifted to settle upon the talking Logan. Blinking she fully re-entered the world at large. “Never one to mince words, are you Logan. As you both know from the Intel Cable gave us, Mimic was last reported under Onslaught’s influence.”
“Yes I recall the mention. Calvin was one of the many recruited by Onslaught.” Ororo moved forward to approach both her friends. “Is that what caused the outburst?”
“In a sense yes. Right now Calvin is trapped within his own mind, courtesy of the tampering upon Onslaught’s part. His work highlighted all the negative aspects of Mimic’s personality, driving him into the behavior he was displaying. I will have to go in and deconstruct all the damage Onslaught incurred. Until then he needs to remain in this stasis device till my work is complete.”
A grunt shoved passed his lips, as Logan leaned back. “What about field work. Wouldn’t mind a powerhouse like that on our side come a fight.”
A red nailed finger pressed a button alongside the tube, as it slid back into the wall obscuring the view of the occupant. “Yes well, not possible at this moment. His mind is very fractured, and at this moment he is wired for the most aggressive behavior. As you witnessed before. If he were released, there would definitely be a relapse in his conditioning and he could snap on the team at any moment.”
====================
Alleyne Residence, Chicago
“I assure you both, that the state of the art facilities that Xavier’s offers are more than up to the standards of a young man such as David.” Bobby Drake’s trademark smile was draped across his face, his hands folded carefully on his lap. It was a hard sell so far. “We offer a multitude of college prep, as well as full college courses for the advanced students. I myself have a degree in accounting thanks to Xavier’s.”
Michael Alleyne cleared his throat, as his hand tapped lightly upon his leg. “What about the public?”
“The public, sir?”
“Yes what about the public outcry of mutants. I might as well be putting a target on my sons back at your school.” Debra Alleyne practically shouted as she moved closer to her husband.
“I assure you ma’am that your son will be more than safe at our facility. The nature of Xavier’s is hidden from the world at large, no one will ever know it’s a mutant school.”
Gwynn Farm, Wales
“So my daughter would be free to express herself fully then? With her powers?” Mrs. Gwynn kept her hands clasped tightly together as she gazed lovingly upon her daughter Megan.
“Very much so. I myself like to get out for a morning flight now and then. There is no need for secrets or shame at Xavier’s. The school is well protected and hidden.” Warren smiled brightly as he caught sight of Megan’s excitement.
“Could I go flying with you?” The girl’s voice came out somewhat timid, but the excitement showed right through it.
“Of course. I’d be crazy to turn away the company of such a pretty young lady.”
Giggling softly Megan turned to her mother. “Please can I go? You said you always wanted me to go to America.”
Nodding softly, Mrs. Gwynn turned back to Warren. “I just have one question Mr. Worthington, what is the focus or goal of your school?”
The Abbott’s, San Francisco
“Control of powers. The utmost goal we foster is teaching the mutant youths how to use and control their powers for the betterment of all mankind. Our powers mark us apart from everyone else, but that doesn’t mean we have to be separated. Acceptance is a tenant of Xavier’s dream that we hold onto strongly.”
“And that is the dream? Acceptance?” David Abbott kept a hand on his daughter’s back as they listened to Bobby.
“For the most part. Charles Xavier dreamed of a world where mutants and humans could live in harmony, with no discrimination of any kind. It’s a dream that we continue to follow to this day.”
Vaccaro Home, New York City
“Acceptance? My son is a walking pile of rocks! No offense son, but how do you ever expect him to fit in this world?” Santo Vaccaro’s mother stood tall, her hands on her hips. The look in her eyes clearly marked her as one not to mess with, and Warren was definitely not going to cross her.
“Ms. Vaccaro, I have giant white wings upon my back. True they can be hidden unlike your son’s appearance, but the point is that part of our program is teaching young mutants to be secure with who and what they are. No matter their appearance. One of our founding students, Henry McCoy became a blue beast yet is still haled as one of the great Avengers. Its’ no different than teaching kids to ignore prejudice against their skin color or religion. There will always be those in life that don’t accept you for who you are. The point is to move past that and accept those that do accept you for who you are.”
Vale Residence, Upper New York
A slight nod came as the man took in each word. “I suspect you’ll expect me to pay some high tuition or the like. I may be well off, but that doesn’t mean you can fleece me or something.”
For probably the millionth time that day, Bobby smiled politely. “Of course not sir. And we would do no such thing. Tuition is a voluntary thing. We see it more as a donation to the school and the students. All costs are taken care of through the Xavier Foundation. Anything you choose to contribute towards your daughter’s education is just that, a contribution.”
Hammill’s, Salt Lake City
“Oh thank goodness. I don’t’ know if you noticed Mr. Worthington, but we’re not well off. I was afraid that this was all a moot point if Ben didn’t have the money to go.” Sarah Hammill wiped her forehead, relaxed a bit at least.
“No worries, Ms. Hammill. Ben is more than welcome at the school. We see great potential for your boy, and would be ecstatic to have him aboard.”
Sarah nodded, as she waved for her son to come forward. “Ben, tell this nice man if you’d like to go to the school. They are making a very nice offer for your education.”
A young man with flames surrounding his entire head stepped forward. Eyeing Warren warily, he settled onto the couch beside his mother. Once his head had exploded in flames, he knew that life would change. That most likely he’d be sent away from his family. It seemed it was finally that time.
“Yeah, sounds like fun I guess.” The words were accompanied by a shrug.
Warren’s hand reached out, and the young man accepted it. With a smile and firm pump of his hand, Warren sealed the deal. “Welcome to the X-Men Ben, hope you survive the experience.”
====================
“So that’s it? It’s done and over with already? That blows, when I was with the X-Men we wouldn’t stand for something like this.”
Sighing Monet rolled her eyes at Jubilee’s outburst. “The X-Men are the ones closing the school Jubilee.”
The six members of the class once referred to as ‘Generation X’ jokingly by the teachers, stood outside the massive mansion in Westchester. Their home in upper Massachusetts was gone. Closed by their mentors Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy. With the reshuffling of Xavier’s assets and the dream, the school was deemed to not fit into the plans anymore. Instead they were to become the senior class at the Institute with all the new arrivals. It felt strange for them to go from a large mansion of their own, to now sharing with countless others. Only Jubilee felt at home, once again reunited with her old teammates on the X-Men.
Sticking her tongue out at Monet, Jubilee crossed her arms. “Yeah well whatever. I still think we got a raw deal.”
“Back you all the way up there, chicka. But on the other hand there have been some fine ass girls wandering around here.” Ten gray fingers grasped a high branch of the tree, as Angelo hung down. His arms were stretched out bringing him closer to the ground. His eyes followed a young woman with pink wings moving across the path. “That fairy can sprinkle her dust on me anytime.”
“Grow up.” Monet gave him a shove, sending the skin manipulating mutant crumbling to the ground.
“Ah think this is tha perfect opportunity for us. Who woulda thought we’d be taught by tha X-Men themselves.” The soft Kentucky lilt drifted down from the tree, as Paige sat back against a thick branch. Her blond hair blew lightly in the wind.
Right below her on the next lower branch, Everett laid with his eyes closed. “That’s true. Besides I like this place better than Ms. Frost’s creepy old mansion already. And we’ll be able to work in the real Danger Room. Can’t beat a perk like that.”
Nodding Paige laid her head back. Monet shrugged and continued to float in the air staring at some distant spot. Jubilee sent a few experimental sparks up off her fingers, turning to stare at the last member of their group. Jono stood behind the tree silent as ever. His face covered by the scarf like material of his uniform. Leaping up she bounced over and grabbed onto his arm. “So, Jono boy, what’s the sitch? You gonna enjoy our new home, or keep up the brooding silent act. Trust me there is plenty of that here, you need to smile…err well be happy.”
Shrugging his friend off, Jono pushed off the tree and stalked away. The others stared at the stunned Jubilee. “Was it something I said?”
====================
The dark room was illuminated briefly as a thin ray of light emerged from the opening door. Strolling into the room, Bastion closed the door behind himself. With a flick of his hand the wall of monitors all sprang to life. Schematics of varying degrees popped up. The compiled information taken from Xavier scrolled along another screen. Each one of the Xavier Protocols they had obtained was represented there.
The shadows parted on the other side of the room as another figure seemingly melted out.
“Progress.”
“The work has begun upon the Prime Sentinel Program. We’re ready to go into full production now. Each is being imprinted with the Protocols. Each unit will be deadlier than any Sentinel the world has ever seen.”
There was silence as the other figure moved into the light, still slightly obscured by the shadows. “Do not forget our deal Bastion.”
Nodding, Bastion pulled up another screen. A list of all the personnel at the base came up for their viewing. Every single one of them had a mark alongside their names. A mark that targeted them for the next part of the plan.
“I have not forgotten. As soon as the first batch of Sentinels is ready and operational, the staff replacement will begin. Soon there will be none left that are not Prime Sentinels. You can be assured of that.”
A knock sounded, and as the door opened the mystery occupant vanished into the shadows and from the facility. Bastion turned to regard the guardsman that had dared to enter. “What is it? I informed you all that I was not to be disturbed.”
“Sorry, sir. I came to give you an update on Prisoner M-13. The prisoner is still sedated, and showing no signs of mental activity outside the norm. Dr. Manning asked about a check up for the prisoner in the future, to ensure healthy status.”
“Very well. I expect the prisoner will be of no more use to us very soon, but the future may prove to be fruitful. With enough time and the right stimulus he will be broken. Tell Dr. Manning to proceed with the check up. Keep me updated on the prisoner’s status. Dismissed.”
Nodding, the guard shut the door tightly. Striding down the hall, they turned around a corner as their skin began to ripple slightly. The pale skin was replaced by a blue color as the uniform shifted away to a tight black outfit. Red hair sprung from the scalp, as Mystique finished her transformation. Pulling a small communication device from somewhere on her outfit, the correct channel was keyed up.
“Xavier’s location secure. Extraction plan Alpha is a go. Begin phase one.”
====================
A grunt slipped through determined lips, as hands grasped the heavily weighted barbell. With a final gasp, the bar was fully extended and dropped into the hooks to rest. Dropping arms to his side, Joseph sat up and took a deep breath. Wiping the sweat from his brow, his eyes settled upon the other two in the room. Their eyes had hardly moved from him even during their workouts.
Running a hand through his shorter hair, which he had cut recently, he moves to his feet. Catching his reflection in the wall mirrors, the man pauses momentarily. With the shorter hair, he looks just like the pictures he had seen of Magneto before his disappearance. It was striking, and was no doubt the reason for the stares.
Across the room, Sam stood over Rogue as she worked on lifting the largest amount of weight he had ever seen. It was on par with Piotr’s level of weight. She really didn’t need a spotter, but it was just a traditional thing to do. It also allowed softer conversation. “Ah just can’t get past how Magneto he looks now. It’s almost striking, ya know?”
Shoving up she exhaled and slightly nodded. “Ah know what ya mean, Sammy boy. Trust me, ya ain’t tha only one with those thoughts.”
Staring at Joseph for a few more moments, Sam finally pulled his eyes away almost sheepishly. “It’s funny ta think about it, cause of how many different Magneto’s there have sort of been. Ah think tha name means so many different things ta different people. Depending on when ya encountered tha man. If ya know what ah mean.”
Pushing the bar up and into the hooks she sat up. “Ah know what ya mean Sam.”
“We all know what you mean.” The two glanced up to see Joseph himself standing beside them. The man had moved almost silently into place. “Magneto is a ghost. A ghost that haunts me everyday. No matter how much I work to prove myself or no matter how much good I do, he’s always there. A specter of my past and the wrongs that were committed. I’m not sure I’ll ever be rid of him. So yes Magneto does mean different things to all.”
“Ah once had feelings for Magneto.” The two men paused at her words. “Ah thought he was someone that could finally understand and touch me in ways others never had. Ah thought a lot of things about him. Then ah saw the man for who he was, and it all faded away. Magneto was not a man that ah could love. Ah understand tha feeling of not being trusted, Joseph. Ah understand it every day. Ah’m the person that essentially killed Carol Danvers, leaving behind a woman that only retained the name. Eventually it will pass, and you’ll push it aside. It’s tha only way.”
Pushing off the bench, Rogue grabbed a towel and wiped at her brow. “After all, we all have black spots upon our souls. Some just greater than others.”
“Ah think of Magneto tha Headmaster. A man that ah respected and looked up to. Ah man that was kind and gentle and cared about helping teach tha next generation. A man that lived up ta his promise to a life long friend to care for his dream.” Moving forward, Sam’s hand clasped on Joseph’s shoulder. “When ah look at you, that’s the man ah see. Ah see a man that may have dark deeds in his past, but a good heart and soul to overcome that past. Just like tha rest of us. Shoot look at me, ah was pretty much part of tha Hellfire Club, almost.”
A grunted chuckle interrupted them, as all eyes turned to the new arrival in the doorway. Smoke curled lazily into the air from the tip of the cigar, as Logan puffed away. “I guess I almost missed sharing hour. I thought this was a gym not the shrink’s office. You want to talk about reminders of Magneto? I got a constant reminder.” With that there was a sound as six bone claws erupted from the back of Logan’s hands. The slight pain was clear on his face as they erupted from the skin.
With just that motion, Sam and Rogue’s minds shot back to the incident with Magneto. Sam wasn’t there personally, but had heard enough stories to piece it together. The moment Magneto had ripped every ounce of adamantium from the man’s bones. “Looking at you is hard kid. I’ll grant you that. Greatest pain in my life is associated with a fellow that looks just like you. But you aren’t that man. You’ve proven your muster enough for me to trust. So remember that next time you want to start a doubt fest.”
With that statement, Logan left the room and left the three of them in thought about his words. Smiling slightly, Joseph pushed the weight of thought off. Magneto was still in there somewhere lurking in the depths of his mind, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t that man, and that was all that mattered.
====================
Sitting in the chair, behind the massive oak desk that was once their mentor’s, it felt odd. Xavier should be sitting behind the desk, dispensing his years of wisdom. The man should be there to see the next step of his dream come true. But he wasn’t. It was all in the hands of the original class now. They were carrying on the dream, just like the man had envisioned all those years before. No matter how much Charles tried to drill it into their heads, none of them could ever imagine a world without Xavier.
The phone began to ring, and his hand shot out to grasp it tightly. Tensing slightly, he presumed the worst. “Xavier Institute. Scott Summers speaking.”
“Scott, it’s Warren.”
The tenseness slid away knowing that it was his friend on the phone. “Report.”
“Everything is going according to plan. You can expect the newest students to be arriving over the next few weeks. A few are already on their way I believe. I’m about to hook up with Popsicle for the return flight. We should be arriving back home soon.”
“Good work, Warren. See you upon your return.” The phone settled back down as he stared at the vast array of files spread across the desk. Each one represented a member of the field team or one of the students attending the school.
Everything was in place now, and the last pieces were fitting in. The dream would continue, just as it was meant to. Every one of the files on his desk represented the future in a way. The future of their race. The future of the very school he sat in. The key was to grasping the full potential of that future. Closing the files, he pushed away from the desk. Striding out of the office, he turned back for one last look before sealing the door with a click.