Inside Rogue's mind
Although initially flattered to see her mental state improved and her psychic plane in the form of sweeping fields and the beautiful countryside of Mississippi, he drew his focus back to the task at hand. "I apologize Rogue" the Professor addressed whatever representation Rogue had chosen for her mind, "indeed I should have approached this problem as soon as I was able, not leaving you here in pain". The first step to navigating a mind uninvited, make sure you are accepted as a friend and not evicted like a virus.
Approaching the epicentre of her mind, he was met with the site of the institute. It was still reassuring to know that her loyalties and trust still lie with them enough so to base her mind palace of their home. The mind palace was somewhere you knew, somewhere you trusted and someplace comforting for when their way was lost. Seeing the rolling countryside of the south, he became aware of just how homesick Rogue really was. 'To see your home only in your mind, I will be sure to let her know that she is free to visit her whenever she felt ready'
Progressing towards the house, he entered the grand doors after retina scan surprisingly enough allowed him through. 'I am glad to see her engineering skills have translated to mental defences'. Careful not to thread too deeply into the mind, everything a metaphor for her mental state, he took note of his surroundings. And what a sight it was that greeted him. Instead of the finely furnished interior or any sleek new decor that he had seen her design, the walls were peeling, the drapes in tatters, dirt hid in the dark corners of the room and the chandelier hanging on by a thread. As he said...metaphors.
Disturbed, yet emboldened by his discovery, he moved on, approaching the lower levels to reach Cerebra. The corridors on the way down were not much better, loose wires hung from the ceiling, sparking and swaying threateningly. Panels rusted and screws strewn about the floor, as though the corridor were slowly being dismantled. Pushing on further, he made his way to the Cerebra doors. Pushing them aside with minimal ease, but carefully, he made his way to the interface, knelt down and placed it on his head. Within each of his student's minds, a mini Cerebra had been built, allowing him access to their memories, powers and higher brain functions. With access allocated to only Charles and the student in question, the fact the doors opened so easily worried him even more. Protection against telepaths was the first line of defence that he could directly assist with.
Concentrating on the events, he failed to notice a silhouetted figure standing at the door watching him carefully. He opened his eyes and stood in Rogue's place, reliving the events as she felt, saw and heard.
'The building was falling, I only have seconds. Jean! She's unconscious, perhaps if I use her abilities for the time being. I'm sure saving her life constitutes as an emergency. Placing her fingers on her forehead and tracing across to brush a strand of hair out of her eye. Facing the falling debris, she raised her arms and splayed her hands out. She felt the atoms, the electronic bonds, the sub atomic textures. It felt glorious. It felt Powerful. It felt Dangerous.
The weight increased with every atom the telekinesis captured, each one taxing her minds tenacity until she realised...the task is impossible. With her last ounce of determination she kept her stance, closed her eyes and braced for impact. It never came. What was instead of pain felt in her hands, arms and legs, was a shattering migraine. What was instead felt was the accumulated weight of two kilogram's of Pillows. Opening her eyes was the top half of the building that was once falling, braced in mid-air by her own two hands.
Looking back to the migraine he embraced the pain and observed the results. Before he could however, a hand was laid upon his shoulder, firm, yet gentle. Removing the headgear, he stood and turned to face this acquaintance. Her hair was blond and flowing to past her shoulders, she stood tall and strong, her physique of an Olympic level state of perfection. His shock suddenly hit him as he saw the uniform she wore. A black swimsuit like piece, a bolt of lightning streaked down the middle. Black boots that came to her thighs and black gloves that came to her elbows. The final feature being the black domino mask that framed her pale blue eyes. She looked at him almost confused and lost, as though a stranger in this place, her knuckles look bloodied, her uniform scuffed and scratched. She had been trying to fight her way out!
"Where am I? Who are you and what happened on March eighth, 2001?" she listed off. 'Former military no doubt, but also no doubt she looks like...but it couldn't be?' Xavier was brought out of his thoughts by the questioning and impatient look on the woman's face. "My name is Professor Charles Xavier; right now we are in the mind of one of my Students. Is your name Carol Danvers by any chance?"
She looked quite taken aback by this question, but saw he was no threat. "Yes. Carol Danvers, also known as Ms Marvel. I know all about you Professor and no doubt you know about me."
"Yes, you went missing a few years back. From that day now that you mention it! SHIELD came to me for assistance, to use Cerebra to locate you. Unfortunately, it was only used to track genetic mutation and not scientific or biochemical mutation." 'How was it possible that Rogue would have absorbed Ms Danvers and why would she still be remaining after I had removed all psyches and memories of those psyches?' "Do you remember what happened before you found yourself here?"
She became noticeably grim being asked that, no doubt a painful memory on both their parts, Ms Danvers and Rogue's. "Routine inspection of the base, then I receive an update of a break-in on the east quadrant. As soon as I got near, the hanger doors were blown open and a jet was flying out. The Lockheed U-2, one of the finest spy planes on site. I dispatched the usual grunts, they were clad in black, thought it was Hydra. As soon..." she trailed off, looking more and more confuse, as though grasping at memory as if it were made of smoke. Offering to peruse the memory, Xavier entered the psyches thought patterns and saw it happen.
Flying as fast she could, she caught the tail with all her might. Pulling back to base, the jet split in two, allowing the occupants to escape. An older man, followed by a younger woman, both of them clad in black. Picking up speed, she chased them to the hanger, where the man turned around and whipped out a rifle strapped to his back. He took aim and shot at her throat. Although invulnerability was integrated to her DNA, the pain was there. But it was more than that, gas was surrounding her, clouding her senses. Hurtling at the man like a bullet, the young woman leaped up and, whipping her gloves off, she grabbed her face and bare arm. From there she began shooting all over the room trying to shake her off. She even slammed her against the walls and ceiling, each impact doing less damage as she felt her strength leave her. Soon enough, everything went black
Recoiling from what he saw, Xavier backed away from Danvers and supported himself on the consol. Reading a mid within a mind is seldom done and difficult to perform. He was pulled from his trance as he saw Rogue standing at the frame of the entrance to Cerebra. She and Carol looked at each other intently, examining each other while taking a step closer to one another. Within a hairs breadth of each other's faces, they continued to stare, until both clutched their heads, falling to the ground on their knees and sweating profusely. Ms Marvel fell to the side, off the walkway and into the dark chasm of cages beneath Cerebra. 'I remember this, the reason for a mental Cerebra in the first place. Control of the psyches that Rogue has absorbed, each one contained and controlled from Cerebra'.
With a start, the Professor was startled back into reality. The others were looking on with concern for their friend and mentor. With a heavy heart, he began to relay what was seen in Rogue's mind. Only now, looking into Erik's eyes did he see a slight gleam, not of the power hungry megalomaniac he became over the years, but of the concern a child would show to a parent when telling them he has done something wrong.