Chapter 4: Kindred Strangers

"What have I done?"

Magneto, 2006

"This is a terrible joke," Magneto said, more to himself that to anyone else, it seemed.

Fellswoop sat across from him, at a table where untouched food sat, neither having had much of an appetite. He scratched one of his claws absently along the wood, concentrating on nothing, and wishing that reality were not as horrible as he had just described it. It was strange, having been born into this war, he thought nothing of it; of course, he had an inherent sense that there should not be such a war, but the fact that there was one was not as revolting to him as he saw it to be to Magneto. The way things were…well, were just the way they were.

But for Magneto, who had disappeared before any of this had happened—it must have seemed a nightmare. It made Fellswoop sick inside—as if, somehow, he were to blame for all of it—as if, by just being who and what he was, he had caused this war, had done nothing to achieve peace between the species. He felt like a child, appealing to his father for help, because he had failed to help himself. He was the prodigal son. He had squandered his father's inheritance, and now had to crawl back to him to save himself. In his desire to see Magneto in the flesh, he who was a hero of mythic proportions to so many, Fellswoop had not considered the shame that would accompany such an encounter. Explaining the current situation to the mutant who had fought for all mutantkind had brought with it almost unbearable regret.

He was brought out of his unpleasant reverie by the sound of Magneto's voice. "It's Fellswoop, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me your position again."

He sat up a little straighter, his wings tight against his back. "I am the Commander in Charge of the Animalis forces, class 4."

Magneto nodded. "And this Godspeed? She is the Commander in Charge of the—" he waved his hand, thinking.

"Elementals, sir."

"Elementals, yes. And where is she? Why is she not here?"

Fellswoop shook his head. "I am not sure. She should be here. I can only think that she has been captured. If she has, they have cured her already and will try to discern from her why she was fighting against her own kind."

Magneto frowned. "Cured her? The Cure still exists?"

Again, Fellswoop felt that inexplicable sick feeling inside of him. "There is very little left, not enough to use as a full scale weapon. We have never been able to reproduce it—"

"But you have tried?"

Fellswoop averted his eyes. "We have, yes," he answered reluctantly.

"My God…" the man whispered, "my God…what have I done?"

"I have heard that the Elementals use it to punish their own, I do not know if this is true…"

Magneto got up from the table, buried his face in his hands, and just said, "What have I done?" over and over again until Fellswoop could not bear it any longer.

"Sir! I beg you would not blame yourself!" he cried. But Magneto continued, monotone and grievingly, What had he done? What had he done?

Fellswoop fell to his knees, and placed his hand on Magneto's arm. "You have done nothing! If you had not…" He was going to say, 'If you had not died,' but stopped himself, as, obviously, Magneto had not died. "If you had been with us from victory, this would not have happened, I'm sure! Therefore, blame us! Blame your successors! Blame…" his voice caught in his throat, "blame...me!" He felt something strange then—tears. He could not remember the last time he had cried. Perhaps he never had. Perhaps this was the first time in his life.

The disorientation, the weakness and the feeling that he had slept for an entire lifetime clouded Magneto's thoughts and distorted his perceptions. He had half a mind to pinch himself as many times as he could to wake himself up from this horrible dream! He kept feeling as if he should call for Mystique, or Pyro, or Juggernaut…someone he recognized! He was desperate for familiarity…and this stranger, with the deep black skin, and the strange purple wings, was so foreign to him as to make him frightened.

Somewhere in his mind, he knew that all that this mutant had told him was true. But at the forefront, there was, of course, denial. It could not be true! It simply could not be!

And even if it were, why could he not remember anything? All he knew was that he had been fighting in battle, had blinked, and had woken up in a container of liquid with a dozen unfamiliar faces peering down anxiously at him.

He had blinked—and fifty years went by like nothing.

He was afraid to blink again—afraid to close his eyes, lest he should open them and find himself in yet another decade.

Even now, as he held his hands across his face, he kept two fingers slightly apart, so that he could see through them, like a child at a horror film.

He felt the claws of the mutant called Fellswoop pressing into his arm. The feeling of a solid hand against his arm was comforting in a strange sort of way, and he wished the claws would dig deeper. He had a sudden desire to feel pain—for, truly, if nothing else seems real, pain always is!

It occurred to him suddenly, in his desperate desire to find someone he knew, that if only half a century had gone by in the time since he was supposed to have died, it was possible that some of the younger members of his group might still be alive.

"Tell me," he said, still feeling the pressure of that hand, "do you know if any members of my Brotherhood are still alive?"

Fellswoop frowned. "Brotherhood?" he asked. "It was the Brotherhood who guarded you in your encasement. I had never heard of them before."

Magneto bristled. "That seems strange, since it was my Brotherhood that set out to conquer the human race and fight the X-Men."

Again Fellswoop seemed confused. "Ex-men?" he shook his head. "I have never heard of the Ex-Men."

"Charles Xavier? The Wolverine?"

As Magneto said these names, Fellswoop shook his head, his eyes wide with curiosity. Magneto felt a shiver run through him. "But you know of me?" he asked. "How can you not know of them? They were my principal adversaries."

"The only adversaries we know of are the humans, sir, no others. Perhaps they have disappeared into history."

Magneto was perplexed. "But if you know of me, how can you not know that my army was called the Brotherhood of Mutants?"

Fellswoop's tears moved further down his face as he shook his head. "I do not know, sir."

His blood boiled. "Mystique, Toad, Sabretooth, Pyro?!" he cried.

At first, Fellswoop shook his head sorrowfully, and then stopped of a sudden on the name 'Pyro.' He got up from the floor, and walked over to the door and opened it. "Tymah," he said, "come in here."

The girl from the other room walked in respectfully, but self-assured. She stood near Fellswoop, and did not approach Magneto. Fellswoop closed the door again. "Tymah," he said, "a mutant called Pyro, do you know of him?"

Her eyes wandered, as she searched her mind. "Pyro…there is a very old mutant, outside of the city. I have never seen him myself, but he has lived through all the wars and I think he was there at the Great Battle, with you, sir," she nodded towards Magneto. "He was a fire mutant."

"Was?" said Magneto, as his heart fell. "Is he…is he dead?"

Tymah searched Magneto's face, curious about his concern. "He is dying, last I heard," she answered coolly. "I do not know any more than that. For some time, he was often referred to in matters of history, but I can't think when we last asked him for guidance." She shrugged. "He may be dead."

"I must see him."

Again, she searched his face. He knew now that she was trying to determine whether or not he was truly Magneto. "I can take you to him," she answered. "No one knows that I am party to this mission. Daytripper could transport us back to Elemental territory—but, is it really worth the risk?"

"Yes!" he said. "Yes! It is." If only for his own sanity, it had to be! He did not say this, but it was in his thoughts and his heart.

Tymah crossed her arms and walked past Fellswoop towards Magneto. She stared at him, at his face, into his eyes and down at his hands. "Are you really Magneto?" she whispered. "Really and truly?"

He sighed. "Yes."

Fellswoop took Tymah's shoulder, his claws indenting her shirt. "Do not question him. He is who he is."

She shrugged him off, and Magneto saw, with despair, the disdain she had for Fellswoop that she tried to hide, but could not.

"I see it in your eyes," he said aloud. "You hate him, don't you?"

Tymah faltered. "I…"

"I have always been hated, by someone, or someone else. I have been placed in categories—Jew, Mutant, Elemental…" he shuddered at the very idea of placing himself into a mutant category. "If I am to help you in any way, you must identify yourselves first and only as Mutants! As Brothers! If you cannot do that, then please, put me back in my coffin and let me die!"

Tymah seemed stunned, hurt, ashamed. All these feelings passed over her pretty face and finally stopped on shame. "Forgive me," she said quietly. She turned towards the other mutant. "Fellswoop," she said respectfully, with a nod, and then she turned and left the room.

When she was far enough away from that room, she flung herself into the wall, hit her fist against it and cried.

Oh, she knew he was Magneto!

Who else could look into the eyes of an Elemental and tell her to respect an Animalis, without meaning to be funny? Who else could have torn her heart open, seen the depth of her hate and made her see it too?

For the first time in her life, she knew that her life had been pointless. It grieved and sickened her and she wept for herself.

Shuddering like a child, Tymah pressed her forehead against the wall, felt the grainy dirt along it, felt the coolness of being underground. She let herself collapse, slowly, onto the floor, curled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested against the wall. Her breath came in staggers, as the tears flooded, poured over, and flooded again.

"Hey."

Her hands flew defensively towards her face. "W-what?" she asked.

Daytripper approached her from behind. "I heard you crying. What is it?" he asked.

"Why do you care?" she cried. "Who cares why I'm crying? It doesn't matter! Nothing does!"

"I just…thought I'd ask."

She heard him walk up behind her and sit along side, against the wall. She tried to muffle her sudden intakes of breath, which accompanied her tears, with difficulty.

"You know," he said, "you don't have to pretend you're not crying, because I already know you are."

"Oh, sh-ut up!"

He did so and she guessed he probably would have sat there in silence for an eternity, if she had not spoken first. "I just…I just got a wake up call, you know. I've just been informed, in not so many words, that my life is a joke!"

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody told me! I just…you should have heard him, he thinks that Elementals and Animalis are the same—he really thinks that! And if they are, then…then I'm…"

"Tymah," Daytripper said, "I don't know you. I don't know why I'm here, really. Of all the teleporters in the world, I just happened to get the call. And of all the Elementals, you're the one who's here. We're here together, and that makes us partners, on the same team, and what not. So…even if your life has been pointless so far—it's not now. We have a purpose now, and us two—we're witnessing something great here. Don't you feel that?"

She did feel it. And it frightened her. "You sound so hopeful."

"I guess I am then," was his reply.

Tymah wiped her eyes and turned towards him, knowing full well that her face was puffy and red. He did not seem to care. He smiled. "I've never had anything to fight for, my whole life. Now we both have something that's real."

"I wish I was as hopeful as you," she said quietly, "I'm only afraid."

He wrapped the cuff of his shirt around his fingers, and wiped her face with it. She did not know why, but she let him. When he was finished, he smiled again and said, "You won't be afraid forever." He rolled up his sleeves, got up off the floor, and extended his hand to help her do the same, "Anyway," he said, "go wash your face. I think I made it worse."

Tymah did take his hand and she did wash her face. Afterwards, they made plans. Tomorrow, at Magneto's insistence, they would proceed to the outskirts of the former New York City, and try to find the mutant Pyro.