X-Men: Standing Guard
Season One, Episode One
"Pilot"
New York City
September 23, 12:07 EST
-*
It was a bright and sunny summer day in New York City. The bright yellow sun and clear, baby-blue sky seemed to radiate happiness down on the busy city. The waters surrounding New York were glistening in the sunlight, seeming more like fluctuating mirrors than pools of water. Families were out on their boats and in the park, enjoying the warm sun and the delicious ice cream being passed around.
Inside the city, the streets were bustling. People ran about, performing odd tasks for their jobs, rushing to and from lunch. The concrete made the already high temperatures even higher and caused wealthy men in fine suits to curse the weather and wish it would rain while others enjoyed the perfect summer weather.
On the outskirts of the city, close to the water, was a little café that was nearly empty. It was small and cozy, with an unlit fireplace in one corner, many armchairs spread about, and books stacked higher than the people in the chairs in places. A round man who looked as if he should be in the Italian restaurant downtown was wiping the counter and sneaking finger-fulls of the icing from the back of the carrot cake on display. A white rug adorned the floor to the level of the doors and about three feet away from the eating area. Old, rickety bookcases stuffed with books in odd shapes looked as if they were about to topple over on one of the people sitting and reading.
One of these readers was chilling in a sleeveless hoodie and jean shorts. His hair was short and spiky and rather dark. His blue eyes looked like icicles. He was sitting sideways in the chair, his legs dangling over one arm, his head on the other. He had a stack of books next to him on evolution, glaciers, winter tundras, and the most recent book by Doctor Jean Grey on mutants.
As he was sitting there, someone walked up behind him and sat across from him. It took a cough from the person for the boy to even realize someone was there. He looked over the top of his book and straightened himself in his chair when he saw the person sitting across from him.
The girl was about his age, nearing the end of her high-school days. She was about 5'3" and very beautiful. Her red hair was short and spiky with a white streak in the front which she had tucked behind her left ear. She was dressed in tight, dark skinny jeans and a long-sleeved dark green top without the shoulders, showing the straps of her black tank-top. Her eyes were a strange dark green and seemed to mesmerize the boy.
"Hi," the girl greeted, extending her gloved hand to the boy. "I'm Anna."
The boy shook her hand in a detached and dazed way. "I'm Bobby, Bobby Drake."
"Nice t' meet you, Bobby." Anna replied. Her southern accent became very obvious and only increased her attractiveness to Bobby.
After a moment of silence, Anna asked: "So watcha readin' there?"
"Huh?" Bobby asked, yanking himself into reality. He glanced at the book in his hand. "Oh, its a book on mutants and how they get their powers, what they are..." Bobby dropped off, seemingly embarrassed.
"Isn't the woman who wrote that a mutant too?" Anna asked.
"Is she?" Bobby asked, looking at the cover with a clueless look.
Anna laughed.
Bobby's face turned bright red.
"So what's your interest in mutants?" Anna asked.
"Uh, just curiousity..." Bobby said. He cocked an eyebrow. "What's yours?"
"None." Anna replied with a smile.
"Then why'd you ask about the book?"
Anna leaned forward and whispered. "Who said I was interested in the book?"
At that moment Anna's phone buzzed. She glanced at it before standing.
"Sorry, Bobby," She said. "I've got to go."
She kissed him on the cheek and ran off. Bobby rubbed his cheek with a smile before realizing he had no way to contact her and ran out of the shop. Anna was nowhere to be found.
"Anna" watched from a rooftop across the street as Bobby went back inside the cafe.
"So whatd'ya you find out?" She asked her partner.
The other girl on the roof, currently engaged in packing a duffel bag with equipment, was much shorter than her counterpart with long, straight brown hair and brown eyes. She looked around thirteen. She was small and petite. She was clad in black leather with black hiking boots and gauntlets. She always had a scowl on her face and turned to her partner with one.
"He's a cryokinetic." the girl responded, shoving a high-tech pair of binoculars in the duffel. "What did you find out from your little kiss, Rogue?"
"It was more of a peck." Rogue replied. "And he's not dangerous. I doubt he'd freeze a fly if it was annoying him."
Rogue's partner pulled out a radio. "X-23 to Sentinel, target is cryoknetic, threat level 1."
"Roger, X-23," a scratchy voice came over the radio. "Return to base."
X-23 dropped the radio in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Let's go."
-*
Xavier Institute, Lower Levels
September 23, 15:09 EST
-*
Xavier leaned down and picked up a spare computer chip, plugging it into its place.
"Kurt, would you hand me the photon-particle accepter please?" Xavier asked, holding out his hand while keeping his vision settled on the bundle of wires hanging beneath the desk.
A loud bang was heard, like a gunshot, and Xavier felt the weight of his desired piece land in his hand. He went to plug it in and sat up suddenly.
"Kurt! This is a psychic patch. I said a photon-particle accepter. I'm trying to find mutants, not kill them all!"
"Sorry, Provessor!" The blue-skinned mutant responded. "I'm not tat good vith computers."
"It's all right, Kurt." A new voice said. "Charles here has been working on this for so long, I doubt even he could tell the difference between an accepter and a linker."
"Erik, do you mind handing me a—" Charles felt the weight of the proper accepter in his hand as Erik levitated the piece to him. "Thank you." Charles ducked beneath the console again.
"Kurt, you can go outside with the others, I'll help Charles." Erik said. Kurt nodded and teleported away.
Charles Xavier was an old, balding man in his late sixties. He was wearing a black sweater with a tan jacket over it. His pants matched his shirt and his shoes his jacket. His eyes were lit with a blue light that seemed to be from another dimension. He managed to put together a very complicated piece of circuitry from his wheelchair.
Erik Lenscher was as old as Charles. He was tall and still standing strong. His hair was grey, leaning on white and his cold, gray eyes seemed to scan the room for something special. Erik was dressed in a maroon sweater and black trench coat. His pants and shoes were as dark as his trench-coat. He levitated a wrench to Charles.
"Thank you, Erik." Charles' voice came from beneath the console.
"How much longer until Cerebro is done?" Erik asked, looking around the gargantuan, silver room molded in the shape of a dome.
"Only a few more days and it will be fully operational." Charles responded.
"Good," Erik responded. "Then you can take a break and come outside with me."
"Too busy." Charles responded. "The faster I get this up and operational, the faster we can get to the mutants out there."
"Charles," Erik said in a tone that made his friend sit up in his wheelchair. "How about coming and checking on the mutants you already have, old friend?"
Erik wheeled Charles onto the large deck on the front of the Xavier Mansion. The building was tall and rustic, looking more like a state's capitol than a home or school. The front yard was about the size of several square city blocks. It was all green grass with a very nice gravel path leading from the porch and driveway to the gate. A fountain sat in the middle of the path near the porch.
Children were running around the front yard throwing balls, racing, shooting at each other with water guns. They were all mutants, they were all X-Men in training. Charles turned. Off to the side of the yard, some of his older students and full-fledged X-Men including the Summers brothers Havok and Cyclops as well as Jean Grey and Storm were messing around with their powers. Jean was scooping up balls of dirt with her psychic abilities and tossing them in the air for the Summers to aim and fire at. Storm was mixing up the battle by using wind to knock the dirt off course.
Charles smiled. "What a wonderful school we have here, what wonderful students."
A woman with white hair leaned out of the front door. "Professor, we're detecting a new mutant signature."
Charles sighed and wheeled himself inside. He rolled into the elevator with Erik and Emma Frost, descending with them to the lower levels he had just come from.
Emma Frost was a beautiful woman. She had a beautiful figure that looked as if it belonged to a model. Her hair was long and curly, a clear white. Her eyes were as clear as a diamond. She was dressed in a simple white tee and regular jeans. The doors opened and she followed Charles out of the elevator to the communications room.
The hallways in the lower levels were made of a shiny metal and illuminated by bright blue-white lights. Both pieces looked as if they were from the same dimension as Charles' eyes. The Communications Room itself was the home of Forge, a Hispanic mutant with the ability to "talk" to machines. The walls were black, sleek metal and the lights were more electronic and dark blue than the rest of the Institute. Wolverine was on the large screen in the middle of the room.
"Good to see you, Logan." Charles greeted as he entered the room.
"Good to see you too, Chuck." Logan replied. "Hey, just wanted to drop in and let you know S.H.I.E.L.D. just got the location of another mutant from the Sentinel Project."
"Ah, yes." Erik said dryly. "How nice of President McCoy."
Charles glanced a warning glance at him before turning back to Logan. "Continue."
"Right," Logan said in his usual gruff voice. He looked at a pad in front of him and scratched his head. "Uhh…likes cars…wuss…"
Emma Frost sighed a breath of cold air into the room.
"May I see the document, please, Logan?" Charles asked politely, but tired.
"Yeah, sure." Logan said, shoving the paper at the screen.
"Move it back a little please, Logan." Charles said. He maneuvered the paper to a point where he could read it while Magneto and Frost looked on extremely frustrated.
"He's a cryokinetic who is confused of his powers and is looking for somewhere to stay."
Logan scratched his head.
"He's a confused little mutant who can control ice."
"Ah"
"And he's a perfect candidate. Ms. Frost, if you'd be so kind as to get the Blackbird ready and summon Jean and Scott, we're going to New York City."
-*
New York City
September 23rd , 15:49 EST
-*
Bobby was walking down the street, kicking a coke can as he walked. He had his hands in his pockets and his hoodie pulled over his head. He sighed and looked up into the sky, thinking about the girl he had met earlier. What was her name again? Ah, Anna.
The hairs on the back of Bobby's neck stood straight up. He looked behind him. There was an odd group sitting at a café table nearby. One was an old, balding man in a wheelchair wearing a tan jacket and black sweater. Sitting at his side was another old man dressed in maroon and black with a dark hat covering his face. Across from the older men sat two others. Both looked like they were just out of college and so obviously a couple Bobby would've made kissy motions at them had he not been concerned who they were.
The first was the strong, built man wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He had a watch on his wrist that flashed in Bobby's direction as the sunlight hit it. His brown hair blew slightly in the city wind, but still managed to look organized. The most notable feature about him was his sunglasses. They were as red as his girlfriend's hair.
Speaking of the only female at the table, Bobby could only describe her as gorgeous. She was only sporting a green shirt with a shoulder hanging down and jeans, but it didn't make her any less attractive. As soon as she noticed him looking at her, she turned and whispered something to the bald man. He nodded, closed his eyes, and Bobby thought he had gone to sleep.
Things seemed to slow down around Bobby. People who had been running before were now frozen in mid-air. A bicycle rider who had hit a curb and was in the middle of his crash was frozen vertically in the air. The four at the table didn't freeze though. The man in the wheelchair smiled and gestured at the fifth chair at the table. Bobby hesitated, looking around, but cautiously joined the four at the table.
"Hello, Bobby." The balding man said. "I'm Charles Xavier. This is Erik Lenscher, Jean Grey, and Scott Summers."
"Summers?" Bobby asked. "Like the mutant?"
"Yeah." Scott interrupted. "The one and only."
"The truth is, we're all mutants." Charles said. "We know you are too."
Bobby stood up from his chair, knocking it over onto the concrete. It made a clanking sound the startled Bobby. He'd never heard anything like it in the bustling city. He looked back at the four at the table.
"Relax, Bobby. We're not here to hurt you. We want to offer you a…scholarship if you will."
"What?" Bobby said, completely clueless.
"Tell me, Bobby." Charles asked, turning his wheelchair to face the young man. "Have you ever heard of the Xavier Institute."
"No." Bobby replied. "What is it?"
"It's a school for people with special gifts. People like us."
"In short," Erik cut in. "It's a school for mutants."
"What do you want with me?" Bobby asked.
"We'd like to extend an invitation for you to come join us."
"There are many more like you, Bobby." Erik cut in once again. "All of us mutants, all of us able to exist in public without humiliation, without fear of mistreatment."
"How do I know you're not from the government?" Bobby asked. "Or a mutant-hater group? How do I even know you're mutants? Other than you two." He added the last sentence after looking at Scott and Jean.
'Mutant haters wouldn't invite you to a school, Bobby.' Jean's voice echoed in his mind. He turned and looked at the smiling red-head.
"The simple truth is we're not forcing you to come with us. If you want to come to the Institute and live with other mutants, train with other mutants, you can."
"Let me guess, that's my only other option. It's that or be hunted in the streets?"
"Yes." Erik replied firmly and coldly.
"No," Charles said, holding up a hand to Erik. "Your powers haven't fully evolved yet. I estimate you could remain invisible to the public eye for a few years with some luck. However, you would never know how to use your powers to their full potential."
Bobby was silent.
"What will your parents do when they find out, though?" Charles asked.
"What?" Bobby asked suddenly.
"You haven't told anyone you're a mutant, have you?" Erik asked. "You're afraid of what they'd think of you."
Bobby nodded. "I'm not sure what to think of this…this curse." The boy looked at his hands, smoking in the summer heat.
"Bobby," Charles said, wheeling next to the boy and leaning down to look into his eyes. "Mutants are not cursed. They are gifted."
Charles wheeled to the exit of the café, Jean, Scott, and Erik joining him.
"Consider what we said." Charles added. "If you decide to join us at the Institute…Jean? Our card?"
Jean pulled a card out of her purse and tossed it at Bobby. It stilled itself in mid air and zoomed gracefully to him.
"X-Men, let's go."
Bobby looked at his card as the crowd unfroze and resumed their journeys through life. In the distance Bobby heard the biker yell in pain.
"Wait!" Bobby exclaimed. Charles Xavier and his X-Men were already gone.
"At least I got their phone number…" Bobby muttered to himself.
The waitress dropped a check at his table.
"Are your freaking kidding me?!" he demanded.
-*
Project Sentinel Main Headquarters
September 23rd , 20:19 EST
-*
Rogue strode down the dimly lit and militaristic hallways of the Sentinel Project. The Sentinel Project had been formed by President Hank McCoy as the first action of his first term as President of the United States. As much as the President would have liked to leave mutants alone, he did realize that there were mutants out there who would use their powers for personal gain and needed to be taken down. The Sentinel Project was headed by Secretary of Defense Bolivar Trask. Rogue didn't like the man much, but she supposed she didn't need to. As long as she was the one they weren't taking steps against, she was fine with dealing with Trask occasionally.
The mutant who had forced McCoy to form the Sentinel Project in the first place was Gambit. No one could quite understand his powers, but he seemed to be able to make anything explode. Not a bad gift if your father put you up to robbing banks and taking out rival crime syndicates. He had been detained and was still at the Sentinel Project.
Rogue swiped her access card and dismissed the guard from his duty.
Gambit was a Louisiana boy, someone Rogue easily related to. His father was one of the largest gangsters in the Deep South. Daddy Gambit loved mutants for one reason and one reason only: for their abilities to make him richer and more powerful. Gambit had explained when he was younger, his father didn't care much for him 'cause he was a scrawny boy. As soon as Gambit developed his X-Gene however, his father immediately wanted "quality time" with his son. Gambit eventually broke off from his father and struck out on his own. It was a month before the Sentinel Project got him.
What Rogue most liked about him as she strolled the halls towards her destination, was he was someone she could relate to. She'd had parent issues, issues with being used. Her story was very similar to Gambit's; at least it was similar to the story she coaxed from it.
It also helped she thought he was hot.
She had arrived at her destination.
"Hey Cardshark." She called.
"Chere!" Gambit replied in surprise from his bench. He had been shuffling a deck of (processed and non-explosive) cards. When he saw her he sat up straight.
Gambit had red-brown hair that looked like it had been dropped from the heavens onto his head, flowing down in all directions. He never seemed to need to cut it. His goatee was neatly trimmed too. Rogue didn't know how he did it, but she had her suspicions.
Gambit's hair wasn't the only un-natural feature about him. His eyes had scared Rogue at first. Black eyeballs with red pupils, she had thought he was a demon at first, not a mutant. He had won her over with his charm though. He had been stripped of his "uniform", as he called it, when he was detained. He wore a blue T-shirt and jeans. He had been working out, seeing nothing else to do while he was imprisoned.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, tucking the cards away and walking towards the cell door.
"Wanted t' see how you were doin'. I was afraid you'd done gone and busted outta here, left me all alone."
"Oh no, my dear Rogue. If ever I break out, I'm taking you with me." Gambit responded, gripping the bars. They were supposed to be electrified, but Rogue had disabled it. She did have a remote activation switch in her back pocket just in case though.
Rogue giggled a little.
"I've had some exciting adventures in this little cell of mine," Gambit said sitting in a chair, folding one leg over the other and his hands behind his head. "But what have you been up to, Chere?"
This was Rogue's release valve. Everyone needed one. For some people it was writing, jogging, television, food. For X-23 it was some hard training sessions in the gym. Rogue came here when she needed someone to talk to. Gambit always listened (and actually listened!) and talked about things with her. He made jokes about his grand plans once he broke out, but Rogue never took him seriously. Unintentionally, the two had fallen for each other. Their relationship wouldn't be tolerated by Trask if he found out though, so she always made sure to tip the guard an extra bit to keep quiet she had ever been there.
And Rogue kept on talking about her day.
-*
New York City
September 23rd , 22:39 EST
-*
Bobby walked down the street. He looked at the card Xavier had given him. He tucked it into his pocket. He couldn't call them. He couldn't go to the Institute. What if his parents found out he was a mutant? He couldn't imagine his perfect parents and his perfect brother's reactions if they discovered their oldest son was
"a…a mutant?!"
The sound of his mother's voice resonated in his head. He sighed and stopped walking, standing under a light. What was he going to do? He had unintentionally stopped in front of his parents' house. He pulled out his phone to call Xavier and see if he had a cover story for the Institute when someone snatched his phone right out of his hands and ran away.
"Hey!" Bobby yelled. "Hey come back!"
The man kept running and Bobby darted after him. "Give me that!"
The man ducked around another corner.
"I'm warning you!"
The thief made his mistake, darting down an empty street. Bobby looked around to make sure no one was watching. He rubbed his hands together and pointed them at the thief. He breathed on them and a ray of ice shot from his hand at the thief. Ice wrapped around the man's legs and he tripped, falling to the ground. Bobby ran and dove, catching his phone and sliding on a piece of ice as he made sure it was still operational.
Unfortunately his last shenanigan had been noticed by a passing police car. Lights flashed and a brief burst of the siren brought the squad car to Bobby's location. The driver ran and body-slammed Bobby into the ground while the other pulled his gun.
"Yeah, we got you mutant thief!" the first officer yelled.
"What?!" Bobby exclaimed. "I'm not a thief! That guy stole from me! That's my phone! I was just trying to get it back!"
"Sure, sure!" the officer replied, struggling to put the handcuffs on Bobby.
"Hey, Dave? This one's face is all busted up!" the other officer yelled, looking at the real thief.
"So you mugged him? When is enough going to be enough? When will someone do something about you mutant freaks?"
"I'm not a freak!" Bobby growled through gritted teeth. "And I'm not a thief!"
The officer slammed Bobby's face into the ground. "Shut up mutey."
Bobby growled, then yelled. A wave of frigid air burst from his body and sent both officers flying back. Bobby froze the handcuffs, shattering them against the brick wall.
Both officers stumbled backwards, pulling their guns and firing at Bobby. He walked towards them, raising an ice-shield to block the bullets.
"F-Adam 12 to dispatch! We have a mutant attacker! Can control ice and is very angry! Get the Sentinel Project out here now!"
The first officer ran out of bullets. Bobby exchanged his shield for a baseball bat. He raised it to hit the cowering man when the bat was shattered by a bullet. Bobby looked up at the second officer.
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
Bobby knocked all four bullets out of the air with ice. A fifth shot was fired. Bobby aimed and fired at it, but somehow missed. He suddenly felt the world spinning around him. The lights from the police car were blinding, the siren ear-piercing. He fried the whole car with ice. His shoulder felt numb and he looked at the blood leaking from it. In the distance, more police cars. Bobby yelled in pain and ran off. The second officer fired, but his gun was empty.
"F-Adam 12 to dispatch. Target is wounded and headed east on Burnley Street around the Ellis Subdivision!"
Bobby stumbled into an alley, clutching his shoulder wound. He picked up his phone, which he had somehow managed to keep a grasp on during his fight, and dialed the number he had memorized from Xavier's card. He sat down against the alley wall between two trash cans, hiding himself as best he could. The phone rang and the weak boy pressed it up against his ear.
"Hello?" a foreign voice answered.
"Please help me." Bobby gasped out before losing the strength to hold the phone to his ear.
-*
Xavier Institute
September 23rd , 22:45 EST
-*
Charles was sitting in the living room with Storm, Erik, and some other students watching the news, reading books, playing board games when Forge darted into the room, his mechanical leg clanking.
"Charles?" he asked breathlessly.
"Forge? What is it?" Charles asked, setting his cup of tea down on its saucer.
"Someone called, asking for help. I've located the call. There was an incident nearby involving a cryokinetic and the police, both parties are wounded.
"Bobby!" Jean exclaimed.
"What do you mean 'injured'?" Erik asked slowly, angrily, standing up and clenching his fists.
"One of the officers shot him in the shoulder."
"His wound may be life threatening, then. X-Men, let's go!"
Bobby woke up some time later. He felt rather warm. His shoulder was still numb, but not in the same way. Yellow lights blinded him when he opened his eyes, but he grew accustomed to it. He turned on his good side and looked at the people next to his bedside. Charles Xavier, Jean Grey and Scott Summers, as well as a Mexican dude with a metal leg and a girl a little younger than him with brown hair in a ponytail and crystal-blue eyes. Standing a little behind them was Erik Lenscher and a man with sideburns, a funny hair style, and a gruff mean look in his eyes.
"Hello, Bobby." Charles greeted.
"Hey, where am I?" Bobby asked weakly.
"You're at the Xavier Institute." Charles replied. "You called Forge here for help." Charles gestured at the metal-leg man who waved.
"What about my parents? The police?"
"The police were ordered to stop looking for you by my friend Wolverine here." Charles gestured at the funny hair man who grunted in response. "I've also fixed their memories so that they will never be able to put a face to a name, and given them the true version of the incident. They've arrested the real thief and are stating you were a victim."
"Thank you." Bobby said.
"As for your parents, we've informed them you accepted our offer to the Xavier Institute. That is, assuming you will?"
"Do my parents know I'm a..."
"Mutant? No. They do believe however, that you are an exceptionally gifted young man going to a very elite private school and they are very proud of you." Charles responded with a smile.
"You didn't tell them what I was?"
"Not what, who." Charles corrected. "And that is your decision and your decision alone to make."
"So will you stay?" the brown-headed ponytail girl asked.
Bobby smiled. "Yeah, I think I will."
"Excellent," Charles responded. "I'll have Kitty arrange your room for you. We can go pick up your personal affects tonight. You get some rest. You're in good hands here."
-*
Project Sentinel Main Headquarters
September 23rd , 23:56 EST
-*
"He's harmless?!" Trask exclaimed. "He just attacked two police officers and mugged someone!"
"That ain't the reading I got off o' him when I came in contact with 'im!" Rogue exclaimed.
"Well your reading was wrong, Agent Rogue!" Trask yelled. Rogue wiped the spit off of her face with a defiance that well fit her name.
"Sir, is it possible you aren't getting the full story here?" X-23 asked.
"What are you implying, Agent X?" Trask demanded, turning to her, spit flying on her face as well. X-23 didn't move to wipe it off. She remained straight, cold, and resolute.
"I trust Rogue with my life, sir, as do many people here. If she didn't get that type of reading off of the boy, then maybe the story got mixed up. It isn't the first time someone's gotten something wrong when dealing with mutants."
Trask growled. He straightened up and listened to a report coming from his earpiece. He glared at X-23 before dismissing both of them with another growl.
As soon as the two girls were out in the hallway, X-23 wiped the spit off of her face.
"Thanks." Rogue whispered.
"For what?" X-23 demanded.
"For standin' up for me in there." Rogue replied.
X-23 paused. "I don't like Trask."
Rogue laughed softly. "Me neither." She wrapped her arm around X's shoulders. "Come on "Agent X", let's go raid a 'fridgerator."
-*
Xavier Institute
September 24th , 00:36 EST
-*
"Can't sleep Erik?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I can't stop thinking about those humans' treatment of mutants."
"That's only some of them, Erik. There are plenty of good humans out there, just like mutants. There are those of us who use our powers for good, and others for personal gain."
"But shooting a seventeen year old kid?" Erik demanded, turning in his seat at the kitchen table. "Just because he's a mutant?"
"I understand your frustration, Erik. I feel it too. A burning anger against those who treat us the way Bobby was treated tonight. We can't let it consume us, Erik. We must rise above it and prove that we have it in us to be the better man."
"We already are the better man." Erik replied.
There was a moment of silence in the dim kitchen between the two friends.
"I'm not alone, Charles." Erik finally said. He said it softly, though, as if he were revealing a secret too dangerous for anyone else to hear. "Others think as I do."
"Erik! We can not afford to think that way!" Charles exclaimed, leaning on the table. "If we attack the humans first, then we are the guilty party! We are giving them permission to mistreat mutants everywhere!"
"If we do not strike first, Charles! We will be wiped from the face of the Earth!"
"I have a personal assurance from President Hank McCoy that—"
"What about the President after McCoy? Or if that blasted Edward Kelly gets the Presidency? Then what Charles? Will you sit back and watch as they seize the students from your own home?"
Charles' entire tone changed. He had a serious, grave look that Erik had only seen him with few times. "I pity the poor soul who comes here looking for trouble."
Erik stood up. "We debate this too long, Charles. We are our own political system. We must act now! I will strike against the humans, with or without you. However my dear, old friend, I hope that you are with me."
Charles sighed. "You know I can not do that, Erik."
"Then I will end this war by myself, old friend."
"Erik! Please consider what you are doing! Consider the reprecussions!" Charles begged.
"I have considered long enough." Erik replied. "I must do this, Charles."
Erik made it to the kitchen door.
"Erik!" Charles called sadly, regretfully.
"Yes, Charles?"
Charles looked up with tears in his eyes. "You realize I will defend the humans against any attack. I still have hope for them."
Erik's face set into a determined look. "Then the next time we meet, old friend, it will be on the battlefield."
Charles nodded. Erik left.
A large group of students followed Erik Lenscher out of the Xavier Institute into the darkness. Charles knew he would never see his old friend again. He rested with that thought, lying his head on the table and falling asleep.
X-MEN: STANDING GUARD