Chapter 9: This is Not the Beginning

Essex, England: Restricted Zone; May, 2007

Two soldiers dragged Magneto down a long, featureless, grey hallway. Finally, they reached his cell and shoved him into the dark, shadowy room. Magneto tried to reach out with his ability, but of course it did nothing more than cause a few small metal objects nearby to vibrate, like the guard's keys. The guard, clearly disapproving of this, hit him in the back with the butt of his rifle. Magneto fell to his knees, wincing and looked around at his new prison. Concrete walls and floor, a plexiglass window to let in a meager amount of light, no furniture or further notable features other than a pathetic looking little cot in the corner beneath the skylight.

"I hadn't expected to meet you here, old friend." Remarked an achingly familiar voice from the shadows. The guards left, locking them inside. "Didn't you lose your magnekinesis?"

"Didn't you die?" Magneto asked with the slight hint of a smile on his face, as Professor Charles Xavier rolled his unfortunately plastic wheelchair out of the shadows to face him. Magneto was secretly enraged to see that they had, in fact collared Charles.

"Ah yes, fair enough." Charles replied. Magneto moved over to sit on the pathetic little cot. There was a short silence while he considered their situation and Charles waited patiently.

"I'm glad to see you're alive and well." Magneto admitted.

"The same to you as well, although I wish we might have been reunited under better circumstances."

"I warned you. I knew it would come to this!"

"Unfortunately, I believe in this case we are just as much to blame for the current state of things as the humans."

Magneto glared at him before rising from the cot and beginning to pace.

"Enough of this." He declared. "We need to find a way out of this place."

"I am sure that if there is anyone who can escape from a place like this, that you can." Charles assured him, stoically watching him pace.

"I said 'We,' Charles." Magneto corrected shortly.

"I am sorry, Erik, but my movement has become extremely limited." Charles informed him, looking down at his chair briefly. Erik glared down at the strange locking mechanisms on each side of the damned thing. "I am afraid I would only slow you down."

"Then we will just have to think of something." Magneto replied simply.

"You could leave me behind." The 'again' was left unspoken, but Magneto still heard it loud and clear. He paused his pacing to look down at Charles as he responded.

"We both know what they will do to you, Charles. I will not permit such a thing."


A few hours later, the guards came back and took Charles to the lab for continued research. It might as well have been torture. It consisted mostly of taking samples and occasionally cutting into him. They never gave him anything for the pain. He tried not to think about it. He pushed the pain away to the periphery of his mind and focused on the dark silhouette that floated in the center of the huge tank, down past the foot of the lab table where he was strapped, against the wall to his left. He didn't know why yet, but whenever he was near it, that strange shape seemed to call to him, demanding his attention. It drew him in more and more each time he was brought into the lab. That was strange. For a moment he had felt another consciousness brush up against his. He was momentarily distracted from this discovery by the appearance of a new Doctor...No, not a Doctor. He was only holding the facemask over his nose and mouth with one hand, his tinted glasses and dark burgundy, tailored suit, completely incongruous in the current setting.

"Yes, yes, very good." The man said, nodding his approval, the harsh medical lighting shining off his slicked back, black hair. "Bring in the magnekinetic, please."

The Doctors began to prepare Charles to be returned with nimble, hurried movements. He grabbed one of the surgeon's hands.

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary. He's staying here." The strange man corrected. "Go, Fetch him." He ordered with a cool smile, and one of the doctors ran off with two guards trailing behind obediently. The others stared at him uncertainly. They hadn't patched Charles up yet.

"You can go."

He looked at the other Doctors who were still hesitant to leave. They hadn't finished stitching him up yet.

"You can go." The man prompted with a subtle, yet chilling sort of menace. They scattered like roaches and were gone.

"Hmmm." The man hummed to himself, inspecting Charles' form appraisingly, as if he was looking at an extremely interesting specimen. No, An addition to his collection. Charles realized as the man's fingers gently brushed the back of his wrist. The collar only worked as long as there was no skin to skin contact. He felt the unusual new consciousness within the tank calling his attention once again. Magneto was brought into the room and led over to stand to the right of the lab table by Charles' feet. The guards shoved him forward and he stumbled only slightly before pushing himself upright with his usual air of superiority still somehow intact. His cool silver eyes surveyed Charles' abused form, strapped to the lab table and then eyed this new mystery man with an air of bored, detachment.

"Oh yes. So finally we meet. You know, you just wouldn't believe how exited I am to finally meet you! I mean the two most powerful mutants alive today, here in my lab! I have been waiting for this for well... forever." Oh lovely, a madman. Erik and Charles exchanged the most fleeting of glances to communicate their agreement on this fact. "I mean Erik Lensherr himself! Here! Or- Oh right, of course you prefer to be called Magneto now, don't you?" Magneto didn't reply, simply raised an incredulous eyebrow at the maniac.

"I must say, I'm a big fan of your work." The Maniac continued. Magneto narrowed his eyes slightly. "I have always believed that mutants like yourself, and well, Charlie here..." He smirked coldly down at Charles, and the Professor saw the flicker of hatred in Magneto's eyes. It was gone before the maniac looked up again. "…are the future. Unfortunately, Charlie here doesn't agree." Charles couldn't quite hold back the cry of pain when the maniac yanked the strap around his wrist too tight. Erik's face was stony and unreadable, but Charles knew him well enough to know this maniac had no chance of persuading him. To Magneto, this man was just another Shaw for him to slaughter. He was already dead. He just didn't know it yet.

Charles shifted his attention back to the shadow in the tank. He could feel the alien consciousness inside reaching out to him and so he reached out to it in turn. The mind he felt when he reached it was so unusual, both very complex and very basic. It was like nothing that Charles had ever encountered before in his long life, but at the same time it was so inescapably familiar, as if it was a part of him. The maniac noticed his unfocused eyes and determined expression and pulled the strap tight once again.

"Now, now, Charlie, we'll have none of that." The Maniac assured him. "Besides, it really is pointless even to try. Even you can't break through the collar. I've made sure of that. Now, where were we?"

Charles tuned out the other two as they continued their pointless little conversation and waited until he felt the other consciousness brush against his once more. It sent back an echo of his pain, along with the impression of a question. He sent back soothing impressions in apology. He hadn't meant to project his pain onto the poor thing. His response however was simply reflected straight back at him with an impatient question. The message was clear. I don't understand. He considered this for a moment then sent back a basic explanation of his situation to the other consciousness. Frustration. I'm sorry. I can't reach out any farther. It isn't safe. The other hastily absorbed this new information along with everything else he'd sent it. It sent back another question. He tried to control his own frustration. He could feel from the complexity and speed of the other mind that it was definitely clever enough to understand him. It had clearly been denied the proper stimulus for too long. How long has it been locked up alone in that tank? Magneto's gaze dropped down to study his face. Charles shook his head ever so slightly and Magneto looked away again, giving no indication that he'd noticed anything. The other consciousness followed their link back to Charles and pushed at the boundary of his mind impatiently. After only a momentary hesitation, he let it in. It explored his knowledge eagerly, first his emotions, then language, then his memories. When it began to dig too far into his psyche he pushed back gently. That's enough now. Some things are not meant for you to see. He explained patiently. You know more. I want to know, want to understand. Charles closed his eyes and sent soothing impressions over the link once again. I know. I will teach you more, but I cannot right now. It isn't safe. The other considered this. Not safe. That is bad? He felt another probing sensation in his language centers.

Later. The other decided.

I promise. Charles assured, and the other consciousness retreated hesitantly.


As soon as they were alone in their cell again Magneto rounded on Charles.

"What were you up to Charles? Have you found a way to break through the suppression collar?"

"No. I wish I had. However, I did discover another mutant being kept in the lab. It was the one that broke through."

"It?"

"It had a very unusual signature. I couldn't find any sense of an individual identity or gender…" Charles stared at the wall, unseeing, as he remembered. "It has been kept isolated in that tank for far too long. It didn't understand language until I let it explore my language centers."

"You let a strange, unknown-mutant into your head to have a look around. That's trusting even for you, Charles."

"It didn't mean me any harm." Magneto didn't look convinced. "It didn't want to hurt me. It couldn't even understand the concept without the aid of my experience."

"We need to learn more about this other mutant." Magneto admitted. As skeptical as he was about it, he was curious to see who or what could be powerful enough to punch straight through a suppression field like that.


Over the next week and a half, Magneto kept up the façade with Mr. Sinister. Mr. Sinister was apparently what the maniac preferred to be called. Magneto preferred to call him the Idiot. This both amused and troubled Charles but Magneto only used that particular moniker when they were alone together in their cell or in the privacy of his own mind. So it wasn't too risky. During each session in the lab, Charles would open up a little more of his mind to the being in the tank. He gradually began to feel the other mind's growing fondness and affection for him as they grew more familiar. There was still not much sense of identity, but there was progress. A very basic personality that was separate from Charles' was forming gradually. The next big development occurred after Charles and Magneto's failed escape attempt.

You see, as it turns out, Mr. Sinister was a mutant too. A psionic mutant, who had agreed to help the military capture his own kind in exchange for their continued sponsorship of his research and the freedom to experiment on captured mutants. They were brought into the lab and he projected intense pain into Charles' mind as punishment while Magneto was forced to watch. He was hoping to use the ensuing rage to his advantage later on.

After the third wave of agony hit something changed. The form in the tank moved. It wasn't a small tremor of movement like the ones that had occurred before. This was a noticeable ripple. Magneto and Charles' eyes met briefly. Yes, they had both seen it.

He is affecting you. The mutant in the tank observed. It still wasn't able to process pain but it understood the distress and anger from Charles' mind just fine.

Yes. I am unable to block him out. Charles replied apologetically.

You do not like it. The silhouette shifted once again as it projected this.

No. Charles confirmed. He'd meant to say more but the next wave of pain hit him and he fell out of his chair onto the cold cement floor in front of the tank. He pushed himself up as much as he could and dragged himself over to lean against it. Two arms spread out from the dark shape in the tank as the mutant surged forward with surprising speed despite the many cords attached to it. As it came closer two glowing blue eyes came into view. A slender, pale hand was pressed against the glass beside Charles. He reached up and pressed his hand to the other side and the agony being projected into him ceased as Sinister was caught off guard. Sinister reached up a hand to regain control.

He will stop. The boy decided simply, his voice in Charles' mind was growing more distinct, his mind building into a roar in Charles' mind as he formed his first distinctive agenda, a new sense of self and purpose creating a new, more solid persona. There was a rush of power that surged through Charles. It didn't affect him at all. Sinister, on the other hand, let out a startled cry of pain, tears of blood pouring down his cheeks, and dropped to the ground, dead. The soldiers all raised their weapons immediately to aim at either Magneto or Charles. For a moment Charles could only stare at the boy in the tank. A pale boy with dark hair, and now that the glow had died down, he saw impossibly familiar electric blue eyes studying him. I looked away from him to the soldiers and got ready to attack again. They are threats. I concluded.

"No! Don't! You don't need to kill them!" Charles exclaimed both telepathically and aloud. I studied him for a moment before pulling back and swimming back into the shadows of my tank. He seemed relieved by my decision. I'm not sure why. There was amused laughter from somewhere behind Charles. He turned to look and saw that it was coming from Sinister's corpse. He got up off the floor and wiped the blood off his face with a fine, silk handkerchief.

"Oh, that was brilliant! This is perfect! You know, I have been trying to get a reaction like that for years! Really, years, and you've just done it in well…Oh! Oh, of course it had to be you! Oh that's just so elegant!"

Magneto and Charles exchanged confused looks.

"A genetic, telepathic connection!" Sinister concluded. He then turned to the guards. "I've changed my mind! We're keeping them alive. Especially that one." He informed them, pointing to Charles. "Oh, this is just so exciting!"


Essex, England: Restricted Zone; June, 2007

I lay quietly on the drab little grey cot in my featureless, white cell, staring up at the white ceiling. The only furniture in the tiny room other than my cot was a white plexiglass desk and matching white chair that I sat in when Mr. Sinister came to visit for my 'sessions'. Metal was kept out of my cell on the off-chance that I had inherited Magneto's magnekinesis as well as Professor X's telepathy.

It'd been a few weeks since I'd been banned from seeing Charles or Magneto. Sinister, or the Idiot if you prefer, had caught me calling Charles 'Dad' and suffice it to say, he had not been too pleased about it. I hadn't seen either of my 'progenitors' since.

Apparently 'progenitor' is what test tube babies like myself are meant to call their parents. I though the word 'parent' suited just fine; fuck-you-very-much Mr. Sinister, you red-eyed wanker. I knew he'd come by my cell soon for another 'session'. This week he was testing me to see if I really had inherited Magneto's magnekinesis. Ah, there he was. I obediently moved over to sit at the table, like a good little bio-weapon, and he poured some iron shavings out onto the tray in front of me. I didn't like this but I'm no fool. As potent as my telepathy might be, I was still a kid locked in a cell, in the middle of a military facility and the Idiot was virtually immortal.

"Good afternoon, Thirteen." Mr. Sinister said with a smile. Oh yes, that was me: Subject 13. I was an experiment to these people, not a child. "Let's get started shall we?"

I obediently held out my hand over the pile of shavings, fingers splayed, and I focused. What a shock. Nothing. It was almost as if I wasn't magnekinetic. Okay, so I admit: I wasn't actually trying too hard at that point. I'd recently discovered that on top of regular humans having trouble reading me(I hadn't learned facial expressions yet) my unique mind made it equally difficult for any telepaths other than Dad to read me as well.

Sinister usually gave up on the exercise and left me alone after about an hour and a half, but this time hour number two rolled around and he gave no indication he was planning on leaving anytime soon. I started to try a little harder, growing even more frustrated by my lack of progress. Another half hour later, I had still made no progress toward his apparently impossible goal, nor toward my own goal to shove the Iron shavings through certain orifices of his. He finally decided it was time to leave. Perhaps he had picked up on my imminent rage-explosion. He took the tray and the shavings out of the cell with him. I proceeded to have a tantrum. Given my age at the time and my current situation, I feel that I can be excused for this behavior. It was pretty much your average fury induced temper tantrum -until I went to punch the table and instead accidentally converted the sheet draped haphazardly over it into energy with a shrill whistling sound and a minor concussive pulse. Luckily, the pulse temporarily knocked out the surveillance cameras in my cell. So my captors weren't privy to my little discovery. Perfect.

I ended up staying awake after lights out, hidden under my blanket every night, and experimenting with my new power.

At the end of that week, Sinister came to visit me with an even more unsettling look in his eyes.

"Your progenitors have abandoned you." He announced, I already knew that they were gone, of course. I'd heard the racket outside my cell the night before and felt Dad's frustration at not being able to reach me and take me away with them. I gave no indication of this knowledge. The Idiot didn't need to know. "You see, Subject 13, they don't realize how special you truly are. They were chosen because they represented a peak in human evolution. Progress certainly, but you are so much more."

I didn't need this shit. I held my hand out over the iron shavings to begin the pointless exercise and he grabbed my hand in both of his, kneeling down until he was at my eye level. I stared, feeling surprised and disturbed. I think that may have been the first time he'd ever touched me.

"You are the pinnacle of over a century of research, a combination of the very best that evolution has to offer. We have yet even to begin to discover your full potential, and when we do you will show them, Thirteen." He touched my cheek affectionately. "You will show them that they have been made obsolete."

It took another week of practice and preparation before I was ready to make my move.

Sinister came into my cell with a tray and a pair of odd-looking devices that he set down in front of me. This test had something to do with fire I believe… I don't know. To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention. He blathered on about tapping into my potential and progress etc, etc.

I don't think it would've even mattered much to him if he'd noticed that I wasn't listening. He seemed to enjoy talking at someone that, for all he knew, was not even capable of speech. I picked up one of the devices. I could feel it held a huge amount of potential energy, maybe too much for my purposes. I was still just learning the boundaries of my ability, after all.

"We must continue to explore your capabilities. We will strive for perfection." The Idiot ranted. "We have only just begun to discover what you are truly capable of!"

I set the device down on the tray and looked up at him, finally making eye-contact.

"You want to see what I am capable of?" I asked blandly. As I've said before, self expression was still new to me, not that that was a bad thing in this case. Sinister was visibly surprised to hear me speak, but he recovered quickly.

"Yes, yes! I most certainly do." He confirmed, eagerly moving closer. He was too distracted to notice the guard opening the cell door behind him. Shortly before he arrived, I had used my ability and my pillowcase to short out the surveillance cameras, knowing that they would want me to be isolated until the problem was resolved. In one fluid motion I knocked the two devices off of the tray and pushed it up against Sinister's chest, converting it. The concussive pulse sent him flying back into the wall behind him, sandwiching the unfortunate guard between the door and the wall. I stepped over them and hurried out into the hall taking out any soldiers that got in my way as I went.

It really is frightening when the experimental bio-weapon you've been holding captive suddenly breaks loose and causes a ruckus. This is especially so when said bio-weapon has until that point been relatively well-behaved. It took me twenty minutes to get out of the base. It was an interesting experience, going outside for the first time in my life. I didn't really get to savor the moment though. I needed to get out of harms way first, and the Sentinels posed a bit of a problem for me. I was small, which was to my advantage. They had thermal sensors, which most definitely was not. They ended up causing me twice as much trouble as the bloody dogs. At least you can frighten dogs into backing off; machines, not so much. It took me almost another hour to reach someplace I could stop for rest without feeling insane for doing so. A little run-down shack in the middle of who-knows-where.

My feet were cut up and bleeding and I had been shot in the arm at some point. I was fairly sure that was bad news. I passed out on top of a grimy, wooden table in the corner and I don't remember much after that. Just waking up to see a dark-skinned woman with white hair and a worried expression, Ororo or Storm, I would learn later, telling me over and over that it was going to be alright and that I was safe now. Then later waking up briefly to find a big furry someone… I suppose that was probably Beast carrying me. I knew I was safe. I could sense from their minds that these were friends of Dad's. They were here to bring me home.


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A/N: Okay guys, sorry about the lateness of this update, but as you may already know, my computer is seriously fucked up. I have to type the new chapters up and post using public computers now so updates are going to be a bit sporadic for a while. I hope that won't be too much of a problem. Anyway, thank you all for reading. I was really looking forward to doing some Flashback/forwards whatever you wanna call them, and I hope you liked it too. The next chapter is going to be back in the sixties timeline again with Charles&Erik and the rest so there's that. I'll try to post it as promptly as I can manage. As always, please review.