Day 91

It had been a week since Legacy had to take three of their brethren. A sort of wake was put into place by the survivors; it always began at the Rat Run. It never ended until dawn. Three sequential days of that made Guthrie and the other captains issue a rule: No more individual wakes, each day would have to be celebrated that night. Work still needed to be done in the morning, and the few healers they had were needed to conserve their strength and materials. Supplies were always limited.

Since that awful morning, those who fought seemed to fight with a new strength, a new determination. Rumors of Nightstar's fight, the facts, and hearsay had inflated the telling to new heights. There were few things everyone agreed on in the story, though. One of the facts that was universally declared was Magneto's proclamation of Rogue, now Legacy, and his reminder to all of unfailing loyalty to him.

It was a war, the consensus settled on. General Magnus was the one who saved them, the one who founded a place for them, and the one who led them. So if he wanted a mutant to mop up the battlefield of their dead, why not? A new name was circulating amongst the members of Citadel X for Legacy though. Everyone now called her, quietly, The Reaper.

Magnus was seated in his council room, observing the comm screens that Box had managed to set up. There were not enough monitoring cameras for the entirety of Citadel X, but steady progress was made. Progress. Right. As the days had wound on, Magnus felt his nerves tighten until he thought they would snap. He thought back to a week prior, when he had entered Rogue's – no, Legacy's – apartments. Perhaps it had started then.

"X, report."

"Legacy is currently in deep stages of REM-"

"That is not what I meant, X. Why is she restrained?"

"Legacy requested medical and mechanical restraints."

"Explain. Now."

"Legacy makes a request of medical restraints many nights, and mechanical restraints when she imprints another within her. She reports that sometimes she cannot control herself when unconscious."

Magnus stood before the shackled body for a long, impotent moment. He could not speak past the fury that caught his throat in a tight fist. The desire to rage and rail, destroying all in his sight, was so tempting that he knew he must remain still until he could control his ire. He had no one to blame but himself for her trials, and that was the worst of it. Further, he knew that he could not bring himself to rescind the command. Legacy would have to continue down the path he set for her.

In the present, Magnus felt the same pit of dread within when he had learned of Legacy's trials when absorbing another's life force. It was due to him; he had requested it of her. Lectured her, on the importance of obeying him, of her importance in this war. He wondered how much of Legacy can still hold together when he was molding her into something that would encompass all of them.

Much like his own life. Magnus was no longer just Magneto when in public. He was the General, and he was a living statue and martyr to their cause. He did this willingly, even eagerly. He knew finally that his life had purpose and meaning. More than that, his life's goal was attainable. Any sacrifice on his part would be too little in comparison to the triumph of fulfilling his dream.

And yet, to ask that the entirety of their race's heritage comes down to the preservation of one mutant. One that seemed so small, perhaps too small, in a way. He wanted to protect her and give her more than the responsibility he had leavened on her. An exiled king and kingdom, a land strewn with rubble and war, a people's enmity. Those were the labors of his realm. He couldn't give her that, it was not a gift befitting of her sacrifice.

Since that night, seven days ago, every battle raised his tensions higher and higher. The only relief came from the battle reports; his balm a no-casualty report. However, even as the relief faded and tension returned in anticipation of tomorrow's battle, he knew his decision remained unchanged. To ask of Legacy to take on more lives would be done. He would do it, even if his heart shredded to nothing when he did so.

The phreaks, the humans, they had to be taken care of. He had to defend his people, carve out a safe realm for them, create a promised land for their kind. And he had to do it by mortgaging his, and Anna Marie's souls.

Would she accept it? She had already, but would she continue to? Magnus was not certain. How much can a person fill a cup until it overflowed? How much more can flesh be burned once it is char and ash? Would that be the end of his rule? A barren wasteland, and a woman whose mind held the scores of memories their kind?

No. As he had thought the week prior, a life worth living is not lived if it is without joy. He would find the solutions he sought. He would save them, and most importantly her. Magnus shifted in his chair, the first move he had made in quite some time before settling back into deep thought. He would start small. Slowly.

"X. Bring Legacy to me."

"Right away, General."

She hadn't wanted to go; but there was no denying the General when he made a request. At X's ring, Anna Marie dutifully rose and exited the common room she had sat in during the battle, flipping through a waiting room's outdated magazines. She had hoped to find a book in a secretary's drawer but was unlucky in this one; though she had found a three-quarters eaten candy bar. She debated for a moment but set it back in the drawer with a smile. She liked chocolate, maybe she'd take it some other time; it wasn't like the person who purchased the bar would track it down. Or perhaps she'd give to one of the pitiful few children in the Fortress.

But now she rose and left the old magazines behind, forgotten and traveled through the halls. Mutants were out and about and everyone used it industriously. Anna Marie nodded to anyone who noticed her, but in truth, most seemed to ignore or avoid her. She could almost hear what they thought and whispered about her, though. It hurt, and in many ways made her feel more ghostly, and less of the physical world than she already did.

Dark thoughts stained her mood as she continued the walk to Magnus' quarters. She didn't know what he wanted to speak to her about this time, yet she knew she had not gone against any of his wishes, and so there should be no concerns at this time. And yet…

Keeping herself strictly apart from other memories and thoughts was difficult. She couldn't keep herself separate any more than she could keep opposite poles from attracting to one another. And isn't it just perfect I used an electromagnetic metaphor. She knew some of his mind, not only through their brief kiss…Anna Marie still remembered the heat of his body, the touch of his lips against hers…and the unheated halls took on a new warmth. It was hard to winnow her own feelings; but by involving herself intense study she managed to suss out what she felt.

She was grateful to him – he provided her the taste of real safety for the first time since Irene and Raven found her. She was in awe of him, their General Magnus. Their great protector, the king of the island. She was, she admitted to herself, a little afraid of him too. His powers were perhaps the strongest since the Phoenix destroyed Albany. No one could stand against him. Perhaps not even armies.

Did she love him, the way that she was certain he loved her? It was a more difficult question, and if she hadn't known even the limited contents of his mind that were now within her she would not have asked it.

Did she love him? She thought she did; it was certainly flattering to have the most powerful, most wanted, highest in profile mutant set his heart on her. A part of her squirmed with the discomfort of being raised to such a high profile as the paramour to the savior of mutants, aside from having her relationship scrutinized by allies and enemies.

Did that matter? After all, who cared what the world thought – she was already considered a butcher amongst her people, so should she really care about their comments regarding her heart?

Would Magnus?

No answers came to her, and she was already at the door to his quarters. She steeled herself; any possible scenario could play out and knocked.

The door swung open, and she entered.

The door closed. It did not open again for a long while, the next day.