When he's done telling his tragic tale she's silent—for a very long time. Long enough for him to squirm under the blooming quiet.

Finally, her mouth moves, but none of her other facial features flex. She is marble, she is stone. "And the X-men?"

"Diplomacy: like always. The professor still thinks he can 'reach' the Genoshans."

Her knuckles turn a lighter indigo as her fists curl and tremble by her sides. "Xavier's got that dream of his shoved so far up his ass he can't think clearly anymore."

He sees the workings of her brain, the calculations of her plans, and knows instinctively that he is not included. Mystique works alone.

"I'm going with you." He leaves no room for argument.


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