X-Men: The Savage
Greetings, fellow beings, and thank you for your company. I am the Watcher, and you have stumbled upon my presence.
Can you imagine someone so important, so influential, that his life decides the fate of an entire planet? Charles Xavier is such an individual. The planet below has already seen what would have happened if he had died as a young man. But let us think, what if he had lived, but his life in no way granted such an optimistic vision. Yes, I am asking you to imagine, what if Charles Xavier grew to hold the views similar to the ones held by the man known as Magneto.
Below, on that very planet, this is going to happen. Conspiring forces have desperation to control the most powerful telepath in the universe, outside the Elders of course, but they have no chance of doing so at this point, not while he is so well known and well protected.
So now they have devised a plan, they will strike when he is younger. But time travel has rarely affected the planet in a positive way.
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It had gone better than planned, all of the stuff that wasn't supposed to be able to be sent back was there when they arrived. "Sir, if they survived to send this stuff back, doesn't that mean we had no real impact on the future?"
"Try not to think about it. All that matters is that it's here." They had arrived right where they wanted: beside the first Weapon X facility. It was abandoned after WWI, which left it there for anyone to break into. "Okay, set up everything by nightfall. The field squadron is going out to find him."
They were referring, of course, to the now eighteen year old Charles Xavier. They looked at the car that was according to the time they were in. "How fast can this P.O.S. go?"
"Our boys modified it to go as fast as a Porsche, but we probably won't want to seeing as how we'll either be bouncing through the woods, or going through a town."
"But it won't take us two weeks to do this, will it?"
"It shouldn't. Now get your up to date clothes on."
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They observed the young man trot out of the house, a girl wearing only a sheet peeked around the edge of the door and threw him his hat. The blond looked deeply into the woman's eyes. Soon, she mindlessly closed the door.
"Who would have thought that Xavier would use his powers to get laid without consequences," Private Jackson said.
"What else would a guy do with telepathy?"
"He's walking away, get him!" Commander Rippert was amused by their conversation, but they'd forgotten their task. The two soldiers walked up behind Xavier and injected the fluid. He was out within a second. It was late, so they weren't noticed.
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Charles felt the scar on the back of his head. "What have you done to me," he pleaded. He was wearing a blindfold and earplugs, and he couldn't sense anything, so he was going on blind hope that someone was in the room. His hopes were confirmed when someone pulled out the earplugs; unfortunately, the blindfold remained.
"Greetings, Charles; we've implanted a device that lets us determine when you can or can't use your powers." It was an official-sounding voice, like that of a general.
"How do you know who I am? How do you know about my powers?"
"We know a lot about you, but we weren't sure you were who we were looking for until we saw you… sampling the fine selection of New York women. We weren't sure of your skill level, though; how have you gained so much control at the tender age of sixteen?" Charles didn't give an answer. "Probably poking around the mind of your step-brother. That'll hurt you later."
"I left home to get away from him. He hates me. I tried entering his mind to fix it, but it just made things worse." Charles had decided that they might tell him more if he was cooperative.
"We'll make sure that, by the time we're done with you, you'll be so well versed in the human mind, you'll be able to make people love or hate you no matter what the circumstances."
"Who are you?"
"We are a branch of the international group known as Hydra. We've been trained in the ways of the telepathic mind so that we may pass it onto you."
"Why?"
"That is not important. All that matters is that you want to get stronger, is that true?"
"Yes."
"Good. We will begin your training tomorrow."
"What about my life?"
"We're your life now, and for the next ten years. After that, you're free to do whatever you want."
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Training involved daily torture. Charles' anger brought out the immensity of his true power, only to have it shut off right when he'd done what they asked of him. He grew to hate those training him, but they truly were bringing out the best of him power-wise. If he ever hoped to be rid of his captors, he would have to endure their torture until he could overload that damn chip. He'd heard them talking that he'd almost done it a few times.
He'd also heard them speak of who they actually were. However unbelievable it was, they had traveled through time in order defeat their rival organization S.H.I.E.L.D. in order for them to take control of the "mutant crisis;" a term that they called him on several occasions, and since there was a crisis in the future, logically, Charles assumed that there were more like him.
Because of their pushing his power, Xavier went unchallenged as the most powerful person on the planet until he was sent to destroy the facilities for the "Weapon X" project, a subsidiary of S.H.I.E.L.D. that he later found out trained other "mutants" in a similar way. The tree trunk of a man that they had altered practically had a lead box around his mind, preventing Charles from simply shutting down his mind. Every time Xavier tried to just suspend him in the air, he hooked onto something with the three foot metal claws they'd shoved in his arm. He was too nimble to be hit by psionic energy blasts, and he could jump to the roof, so it was difficult to float away from him. Charles eventually knocked him out by sending a huge piece of metal towards the beast. It took him about three seconds to regain consciousness, and, ironically, three of his friends showed up. Xavier managed to collapse the building, which was his actual mission, but the four soldiers survived. That was just another reason to increase his torture when he got back to base.
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They'd let him go. He'd long blown out the chip that suppressed his power, but he'd kept in line to make sure that he could expand his power and experience.
While they thought that the chip was activated, he was reading their minds. They hoped that they had conditioned him to work for their cause, seeing as how they gave him his daily "S.H.I.E.L.D. is evil" brainwashing. But they had failed. He knew he was part of a race, a race that even people from the future underestimated. Along his experience the Weapon X project, and the information gathered from such expeditions, he knew that there were more like him, and the number increased daily. This was a race of power and diversity: both of which are qualifications for a grand army.
They gave him the choice to do whatever he wanted, so he killed them. Next, he went out, getting rid of ten years of sexual frustration. He walked the streets of New York, noticing that they were too crowded; crowded with them. He'd been to a meeting of the House of Representatives, and he heard the thoughts of those privileged enough to know about mutants. They hated them; feared them. It wasn't only those who sought to use mutants that treated them negatively, it was every human. They were scared, expecting that they would lose their own world. And since Charles was a gentleman, he decided to give them their expectation.
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Up next: Wolverine.