A.N. Hey guys! Merry Christmas! I'm writing way late at night (as usual) to bring you the sequel of Memories, or Lack Thereof. I do have one comment to make before I write though. I've gotten a few comments about my editing style. Some people apparently want me to start new paragraphs after each piece of speech. I know this is traditional for writing, and I know that some people like it that way. I don't. I find it irritating to format it that way as a writer, and I find it just as annoying as a reader to read it in that format. It's a personal preference thing, but this is my preference. If I get enough complaints I may change, but to be honest, my main concern is the quality of the writing.
There was a time delay before the memories that Charles had implanted broke down when he died. It was a small mercy—Erik was still unwilling to show any potential weaknesses in front of enemies. In the end, the memories that Charles had created for him collapsed after 10 minutes, in a wave of unbearable agony. The memories had existed for decades after all; it was fitting that their fall was precluded by death and pain. Nothing stands that long without bloodshed and tears leading to their collapse after all—Magneto knew that better than most.
The pain hit when Magneto entered the camp. He had been trying yet again to calm Pyro with his hot temper and lack of patience when he had collapsed. He was told later that he had been screaming non-stop. Healers had been called, and when they had found nothing wrong, telepaths had stepped in. His people had been informed of the cause of his pain, but there was no solution besides waiting. People had watched over his body for days. He had never been left alone. But Magneto didn't remember this. He only remembered pain, and fear, and the frightening sensation of having two sets of memories at once. There was a moment when Magneto was sure that he would die from the pain (the memory of seeing 'Casablanca' was dueling with a rather lighthearted debate over the role of hippies in a modern society.) According to multiple sources, Magneto had ripped the supporting structure out of two dozen tents and built a miniature cocoon around himself with the metal. His powers had instinctively tried to protect him, but nothing could stop the pain.
The pain had sent him into a coma after the third straight day of non-stop pain. He had only been in the coma for twelve hours, but when he awoke he felt as weak as a newborn kitten. The metal cocoon had air holes built in, so there was no reason to force his way out. Instead, Magneto recovered and remembered. The memories were still sorting themselves out, but for the most part, Magneto's mind was back to normal. He remembered the months where he hovered on the fence of the war, wishing that he could fight his battles without abandoning his friends. He remembered the secret meetings captured when his Brotherhood were otherwise occupied. He remembered snatched moments of peace, and joy, and love. But the memory manipulation cleared his mind of his own emotions. He now saw the pain on Charles' face as he had turned to flee his room when Hank had arrived unexpectedly. He recognized the increased rage that he had felt towards Charles, each time he had refused to see that the extremist actions were necessary. He could now see that Charles had been trying to save them from each other.
At first Magneto's mad—mad enough that if he had the strength at the moment, he would likely slaughter everyone within a hundred yards in a fit of temper. But his lack of strength drains the anger from him, and all he can feel is sorrow. 'Did it have to end this way?' he wonders. 'If Charles had let me keep my memories, would I be here today?' No, he decides. He and Charles would steel quiet moments, each hurting but both unwilling to leave. The pair would have been gasoline and fire, both feeding on each other until they had destroyed all they held dear. And neither could have stopped the other—a bullet and a helmet stood in their way. For a moment Magneto entertains the thought of leaving the war—of just leaving camp. Of living a life away from the struggle until the day he died to join his mother and his friend. But he knows this is impossible. Charles chose his path, and so did Magneto. Maybe Charles had closed part of a door in changing his memories, but Magneto had chosen to ignore the peaceful route. He had chosen to lock Erik away deep inside him.
And so Magneto burst forth from his metal cocoon. He refused to answer questions on the events that had lead him there, nor would he allow any telepaths to scan him. And only three days later, he lead his mutant army to find the mutant who was creating the cure. Secretly, Magneto hoped for his death. After all, only through Magneto's death could Erik finally live.