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PART 15
"A Prison in His Mind - An Interlude"
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Amahl Farouk studied his wallless prison bitterly. The swirling colors surrounding him would have been considered by many to be beautiful, but to him they were a nuisance. He was a person who preferred the blackness of shadows, and had once proclaimed himself the Shadow King, so many years ago. He had stopped counting the days long ago, so he did not know exactly how long he had been in his prison. In this place, he could take on any appearance that he liked, be it bird or beast, but there was no way for him to escape. He passionately hated the man who had trapped him here, the man he had met in Cairo, Egypt that fateful day. The man who bested him in a psychic duel on these very grounds, the grounds of the mind, the Astral Plane, where all great psychics battle. The man who was called Charles Xavier. It had been so long ago, that Farouk couldn't even remember what started the argument that had ended in his imprisonment. A sudden burst of sound disrupted the Shadow King's reminisces. The mental transmission from one psychic to another, the constant chatter threatened to drive Farouk past the point of insanity, or at least, further than he already was past it. Occasionally he tried to seize hold of these mental transmissions and trace them to their source, trying to take possession of the body that had sent them, but a firm hand always slapped him away. In the stream of babble going on now, however, he heard something that attracted his attention.
"Professor Xavier... Jean, anyone! This is Betsy! Please, let me know if you're all right. I've been searching for you for weeks," the cry was so pathetic that it brought joy to Farouk's heart.
"So, one of Xavier's students is looking for her mentor. He has gone missing? Perhaps he is dead... no, that would be hoping for too much." He stretched out a hand, and was shocked to find that the barriers that had confined him for so long were gone. He grinned, reaching out further towards the mind of the girl, Betsy Braddock, and gently touched it. She was powerful, that was for certain, he thought, but she would not be capable of resisting the Shadow King. Farouk would once again be free soon. He closed his eyes and began to prepare his mind for what would be a brief, pathetic battle.
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Betsy laid on Warren's couch, still recovering from her battle with Kwannon. As she telepathically searched for her friends, she felt a presence in her mind. The blackness of the soul it belonged to sent a shiver down her spine. She decided to ignore the sensation, however, and continued reaching out for her companions.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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PART 15
"A Prison in His Mind - An Interlude"
================================
Amahl Farouk studied his wallless prison bitterly. The swirling colors surrounding him would have been considered by many to be beautiful, but to him they were a nuisance. He was a person who preferred the blackness of shadows, and had once proclaimed himself the Shadow King, so many years ago. He had stopped counting the days long ago, so he did not know exactly how long he had been in his prison. In this place, he could take on any appearance that he liked, be it bird or beast, but there was no way for him to escape. He passionately hated the man who had trapped him here, the man he had met in Cairo, Egypt that fateful day. The man who bested him in a psychic duel on these very grounds, the grounds of the mind, the Astral Plane, where all great psychics battle. The man who was called Charles Xavier. It had been so long ago, that Farouk couldn't even remember what started the argument that had ended in his imprisonment. A sudden burst of sound disrupted the Shadow King's reminisces. The mental transmission from one psychic to another, the constant chatter threatened to drive Farouk past the point of insanity, or at least, further than he already was past it. Occasionally he tried to seize hold of these mental transmissions and trace them to their source, trying to take possession of the body that had sent them, but a firm hand always slapped him away. In the stream of babble going on now, however, he heard something that attracted his attention.
"Professor Xavier... Jean, anyone! This is Betsy! Please, let me know if you're all right. I've been searching for you for weeks," the cry was so pathetic that it brought joy to Farouk's heart.
"So, one of Xavier's students is looking for her mentor. He has gone missing? Perhaps he is dead... no, that would be hoping for too much." He stretched out a hand, and was shocked to find that the barriers that had confined him for so long were gone. He grinned, reaching out further towards the mind of the girl, Betsy Braddock, and gently touched it. She was powerful, that was for certain, he thought, but she would not be capable of resisting the Shadow King. Farouk would once again be free soon. He closed his eyes and began to prepare his mind for what would be a brief, pathetic battle.
================================
Betsy laid on Warren's couch, still recovering from her battle with Kwannon. As she telepathically searched for her friends, she felt a presence in her mind. The blackness of the soul it belonged to sent a shiver down her spine. She decided to ignore the sensation, however, and continued reaching out for her companions.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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