Professor Charles Xavier entered the plastic prison once more to speak to an old friend. Or one could say an old enemy. It really depended on who you asked. Old friends, great friends, yet torn apart by one difference in opinion. Old allies torn apart by their beliefs, yet still connected by a shared goal of improvement for their people. Different methods for accomplishing the same end.
"Ah, Charles, you've come to visit me once again in my confinement. How thoughtful of youl, old friend," The occupant of the plastic prison greeted warmly, addressing the man being wheeled in by a guard. Most wouldn't recognize him out of his majestic red and deep purple costume that he wore as Magneto. And those who felt feel fear at the threat of Magneto might even laugh at how...nonthreating he looked now. But yet the elderly man sitting calmly at the bleach white table was, is, one of the most powerful men on the planet. "You know they seldom allow visitors for me. They fear I may escape."
"And that concern is very well justified." said visitor replied.
Even without his powers as Magneto, as a Mutant, Erik Lengsherr was a very powerful and influential man.
And so was his visitor, Professor Charles Xavier, though his powers went about in an entirely different way.
"Yes, Erik." The professor replied as the two of them set up the special plastic chess set. Plastic pieces, a plastic prison, even a plastic wheelchair for the professor all made for the man who could control metal.
"And how is the push for mutant equality going? As unsuccessfully as always, I assume." The leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants inquired as he moved his black knight out in a counter to his friend's opening move of a white pawn. "Why must you continue to chase you're delusions? This war cannot be decided in congress and peace speeches. The humans hate us and no amount of talking or speeches will ever change that."
"We're making progress, whether you'll admit it or not. We can live in peace." A second pawn is moved out by the speaker, accompanied by a deep sigh. "It's possible, Erik. Together we can accomplish this. Humans don't hate us, they simply fear the unknown. If we can show them that we aren't different, that we aren't something to be feared. . . both sides may prosper. Peace, Erik, we may finally have peace."
"But we are different, Charles. Mutants are the future, old friend. Peace is simply a pipe dream. They don't want it and we don't need it," A black pawn leaves it's starting perch. "We should be ruling over non-mutants, not trying to reason with them. We are simply delaying ourselves the place we should have claimed long ago."
And so the game begins, both sides moving in a familiar dance. Pawns preparing for the coming fight, Rooks moving to defend their king, Bishops traded for one of the opposite color, Queens sacrificed. All so that their leader might hope to when the encounter. Though both men knew the others strategies as well as their own. This set of arguments and accompanying chess game wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation or even this exact game. Nor would it be the last.
"Checkmate." The one player announces to the other before hands are shaken and the a single guard enters and begins to wheel the professor out until the time of the next game comes around, until the next argument between friends. And as the guard wheels the X-men's beloved mentor out, the master of magnetism addresses him one last time before the visit ends.
"Charles, this prison won't hold me forever. I can't be held by a simple plastic prison. We both know I'll escape sooner or later. And then you know what will happen. A plastic cage cannot contain our ascent, Charles."
"I know, Erik. I just hope you'll fight for mutant equality instead of superiority when that time comes." The professor replies as he once more leaves the prison, leaving both sides to ponder each others words once more. If only their argument were as black and white as their game of chess. If only there was a simple way to end the hatred, the threats, the lingering and suppressed fear on both sides. If only everyone could come to an understanding. If only it were that simple. . .
It wasn't though and both sides were preparing for the inevitable.
Neither wanted to admit that the other wouldn't come to see their side of their argument. Neither wanted to admit that the line in the sand had been drawn. Neither would admit it but they both knew.
The Mutant War was brewing and both had chosen their side.
For equality. For peace.
Or Superiority and the rightful place.
The board was set.
The pieces were in place.
An epic battle, set on a hair trigger.
One wrong Pawn's move would open the floodgates.
The floodgates of Mutants.
The floodgates to war.
To war!
Author's Note; I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot. I'm not real sure what triggered it but it's been laying around for a while and I finally published it. Thanks for the support and if you enjoy X-men, then you might want to go check out Project X. It's this collaboration I'm heading to tell the Mutant's story once again, with another spin on it. Curious? Good! Go check out the story here (Don't worry, it may seem short now but we (all the authors of the collaboration) have a lot in store at; s/10154073/1/Project-X-Book-One or check out the forum at; forum/Project-X/140941/. Trust me, it's worth it! Thanks again, and until next time, Baldore out!
