Writer: Rowland Wells
Disclaimer: I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise. I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.
Alternate
X-Men
#14
"the sins of a father"
The long red bus pulled up outside a stop, the driver waiting for people to step in. Old men and women ambled up the stairs, depositing change into the man's small monetary compartment. Behind the group, Tessa was the last to get on. The driver looked at her stunned, and she walked past without having paid him. He nodded and smiled graciously as she then stopped her control over his mind. The bus came away from the pavement and proceeded to head down the roads leading to New York City.
Leaving Westchester behind on the half-hour long journey, Tessa closed her eyes wearily and tried to block out the noise of the engine. Lately, with the entire hubbub around the Mansion, she had gotten considerably less sleep than normal, and the recent events hadn't added to the pattern she tried to sustain. The builders arrived that morning to take control of the damage still present, and as the Professor was in the City, she had ordered and accommodated for them in his absence. The head of the company had called her while the builders were busy, explaining that a further increase on the substantial insurance bill was required in order for the job to be completed. She argued, but without exact knowledge of the reconstruction details, Tessa was not at liberty to put up much of a fight. Charles was not answering his phone for some reason, so she decided to follow his path to the Village in Manhattan. The time was half-past one, and all she had eaten so far today was a slice of toast. She could get away with not eating a large dietary meal for breakfast only when training was not on the menu for that day, but otherwise Charles would insist that his students eat properly for a long day ahead. Tessa regretted not eating anything else as her stomach shook its hunger.
Leaning her head on the graffiti scarred window pane, straight raven black floods of hair dangling over her face, she only paid mild attention to the increasing activity outside as the bus veered into the city. The weather was still cloudy from yesterday's early downpour and it didn't quite look like an American summer was about to blossom. Cars floated down the broken tarmac roads beside the bus, packing more and more into tighter lanes of fuming, smoky grey traffic. Glad to be living on the brighter more fruitful suburbs of New York's boundaries, Tessa thought about the area surrounding the estate's grounds. Cliffs an acre or two behind the Mansion's back fell into the beginning of the Atlantic Ocean's coastline bays, and the thin runway that spread underneath the length of that wooded area opened out to the free air above the water margin.
Being the first student to be enrolled at the school Tessa knew more about the building and grounds than anyone else, but instead of letting herself become the one student free of Xavier's tutored grasp, she now had the most responsibility among all of them. She didn't mind that much; her function was part of a larger machine that worked the minds of these young kids in the family. Tessa saw it as more of a school than an elite force, and she taught much of the sciences that Charles deemed necessary for them to be educated in.
Coming to a halt outside Central Park in Greenwich Village, Tessa wrenched herself from silent reverie and walked out to the park gates. Quickly observing the fluidity with which people moved and worked in this colossal city, she had to marvel at how many of the residents existed so routinely; shoppers, restaurant-goers, office workers on a break, and everywhere people cycling or skating along the pavements. For a moment it all seemed so mechanical, but she had to remind herself that if not for her unique trait then she might very well be one of these animals, parading insanely in a tight glass cage. Forcing herself onwards, she headed up the small slope in the wide expanse of this small paradise amid towering skyscrapers. Here is a little haven of normalcy, she thought. Children tossed and turned in the wind, flying kites and hurling balls in the air. Couples undeterred by what Tessa would consider to be bad weather, were out in the afternoon light enjoying each other's company, and all the while oblivious to the machine nature of everyone on the streets. They were a part of it, and Tessa only realised because she was a virus to this swaying, sweating body of people.
She nearly walked into Charles's stationary form while staring at the Manhattan skyline. He seemed stuck in thought, and showed as much surprise as she did. 'Professor, hi.' She said. 'Why weren't you answering your phone?' Charles turned away from his view of the rest of the park below, and looked at her. 'Not answering? I guess I must have had it switched off.' He suddenly realised where they were, and spoke up for concern. 'What's the matter? I can sense you're worried about something. What it is?'
'Nothing bad, the building organisers want to discuss the payment in-depth, but I said I wasn't in charge of the money. You need to call them about that; and I came out here because I needed a break from the constant drilling that grates into your skull. You can even hear it out in the gardens, which is why I bothered to travel.'
'Yes, it does get annoying after noticing it.' He smiled, hoping that Tessa wouldn't pick up on any hidden sensations lurking just below his mind. Unfortunately for him, she did. 'I know you said you would, but why did you come all the way out here?'
'Impulse journey… I wanted to get out just like you, so I thought that some fresh air and a trip to the city would clear my head.' He replied instantly. Ushering her slightly, his chair turned around and he started down the grassy slope. 'Are you feeling alright today?' Charles enquired after talking with her yesterday. 'Every day gets better, really. I guess I look a bit run-down, but that's a simple lack of sleep; nothing a good rest wouldn't cure.' Tessa stared up at the sky, opening her weary eyes to let the light in. She gazed around the various people in the park, under the trees and playing beside the small stream cutting the grassland in half. She passed over a man standing on the bridge who looked vaguely familiar. She thought nothing of it until Xavier looked at his watch and said: 'We'll be late for the next bus if we don't hurry soon.'
She found that remark strange, and turned a thought over in her mind. 'The bus leaves the Village in forty minutes time – you know that, Charles.'
He nodded but Tessa immediately sensed his anxiety lying just on the surface of his emotions. 'What are you so worried about?' She asked, stopping with the small wooden bridge scarcely in view.
Still with his back to her, Charles set his defences down, and paused while she began to figure it out. 'You're not stupid my girl.' He stated resignedly.
Her eyes fell back to the man on the bridge, his locks of greying hair splayed in the sudden blustering wind. He held his jacket over one shoulder, and smiled idly at the sight before him. There was something in his face and build that Tessa recognised; something grand. A presence hung over the man almost like a shroud, and images flashed into her head. 'Oh my god,' she remarked flatly 'you must be joking.'
Charles sighed, and rubbed his temples. 'I'm not ashamed of what I did; after all, he and I were companions – friends – before destiny chose our separate paths. He is a friend, if not just an opponent.'
'What the hell did you think you were doing? Everybody thinks Magneto is dead. It's been shown all over the tv – written up extensively… oh my god, Charles!'
'Magneto is dead, just as you say – when I used his body as a conductor and you all saw him vanish into the sky, I wiped his mind blank of everything I knew to be relevant to his alter ego. Erik is the man that's left – Erik Lehnsherr.'
Tessa whirled on him in a fit of rising questions and confused anger. Betrayal was at the top of her emotions, and she wasn't about to let her mentor escape without judgement. 'The man that's left? He isn't some kind of Jekyll and Hyde fusion; they're one and the same person. You didn't destroy his memories; you just shoved them to the back of his head!'
'Just calm down for a second will you? He's not what he used to be – Tessa, I don't need to be explaining this to you, you're a telepath for goodness sake, you know the way in which it works.' He replied, angrily. Charles admitted to himself that maybe he had made a miscalculation, but as long as he maintained control then nothing could accumulate under the mistake and send it overboard.
'Damn right, I know how it works – what if,' she lowered her voice afraid to shout 'what if he starts to remember? What if someone recognises him and he gets sent to prison, or executed for crimes to the state without even knowing why? What if someone from his past triggers a memory or two, and Erik figures out that he's the head of one of the biggest movements history has ever witnessed? How will you account for that fault in judgement?'
'Keep your voice down for mercy's sake, people can hear…' He tried to rationalise to her the concept of his forgiveness, but deep down Charles had already dissuaded himself from believing that Erik could be a new man. 'I understand everything you've just mentioned, but if I had let go of him on that fateful day, then the entire human world would be out for his blood. I couldn't kill an old friend, even if he had a difference of opinion.'
'I can't believe how irrational you are being, Charles.' She said condescendingly. He nearly made to dispute her holier-than-thou approach, but relented for the information he now knew.
His visits to see Erik had become more frequent since his placement among the people in Manhattan. Charles helped to set him up with Wanda and Pietro's money, and then left him alone to find a life among the skyscrapers of New York. Concerned for his well-being, Charles arranged for the two to meet in the Village sometimes, whereupon they discussed events from their past and reminisced about old times. He might find himself watching for Erik in the park, just to study how the man's thoughts were functioning. Lately though, Charles had become disturbed by the appearance of recent memories relating to Magneto's usurping of the Savage land, and his distressing assault on the countries of the world. Perturbed by such information and its reaction to Erik's fragile mind, Charles had monitored his friend closely hoping that he might quell the memory before it incited total recall. Fears, anxiety and thoughts of strength were floating at the back of Erik's conscious mind more and more, and unless Charles were to wipe his mind again, which would erase the short peaceful history just experienced, Magneto might rise from the ashes. It would be an unmitigated catastrophe if he were to gain power once more. Not only would Xavier's life be at stake as well as his students, but the entire planet could feel his wrathful revenge.
'He is starting to remember.' Charles explained simply. Even with their hesitation for thoughts, the two X-Men knew the course of the conversation.
'I don't know whether you did the right thing or not.'
'Yes – that seems to be the crux of the matter. Have I done wrong or haven't I?' He answered, feeling as lost as she.
* * *
Approaching the detention block in SHIELD ground headquarters in Washington D.C, Val leapt down several flights of stairs, bounding with a sudden urgency that many of the armed Soldiers she passed found distracting. Having raided the Captain's personal office computer files and paper documents, she had discovered the exact details pertaining to Hawk Spaskyich's sentence. Currently the gruff, scarred Texan was situated in the basement detention cells, receiving regular but measly meals and looks of abhorrence from every guard walking through. He was to be placed in habitual interrogation sessions, just to squeeze every last piece of information from him before being transferred to the orbital SHIELD space station. Nick Fury was sure of his crimes, so any need to undergo a trial or court martial was deemed unnecessary. Val hoped to at least encounter the man before his journey, so she had to be quick in sneaking through security and protocol. Her status and identification would allow her access, but the principal itself was the worrying thing. Many officers and the guards on duty might disallow entry for the sole reason that Spaskyich didn't deserve company.
Whatever the reservations, she didn't have time to dwell on them. Reaching the main hallway, she took several turns and registered her identification with a guard behind a glass wall. She was let through into the detention block area, and walked by several men giving her strange looks. She wasn't interested in their opinions; Spaskyich was a unique man among the many prisoners sent up to the station each month. Val flashed a pass to the man patrolling the doorway, and then waited for several seconds outside the designated cell. Peering through the window, she saw Spaskyich lying idly on the bunk, and wondered if he had anything to occupy him in such a claustrophobic environment. It crossed her mind that he might not be so pleased at the prospect of meeting her, but Val wasn't about to let that interfere.
She stood still for a few more seconds, watching as the double doors to the long room slid open and another large guard in black strode in. He had tucked his scruffy tangles of fair hair underneath the rim of the cap, and his uniform seemed unusually tight and constrictive on his body compared to the other men. She eyed him dubiously, and then looked at the rather excessive lock mechanism on Spaskyich's cell door. She acknowledged the new arrival with a minimalist nod, and then let him stand by the door, almost blocking the view. 'Thanks for coming, Vic.' She whispered.
He gave a nonchalant grunt, and then took off the gloves shielding his hairy hands. Spaskyich looked up from inside his cell and gazed confused at the two just outside. He yelled something inaudible while the lock turned and snapped open. The Texan got up and stood at the back of his cell, nearly jumping out of his skin as the guard in black swiped the cap off the top of his hairy scalp. Val stepped into the tight room as well, eyeing the man all over. 'Don't make a sound.' She announced, producing a tiny syringe from the necklace hanging between her breasts.
Spaskyich clearly couldn't grasp the nature of the confrontation and started to yell for the guards. Fear etched across his brow, and every single hair stood on end. He backed away carefully. The pitter-patter of feet resounded in the hallway and guards rushed in even though Spaskyich was quiet now. 'He's not feeling right.' Val explained, quickly hiding the empty syringe behind her back. The men took one look at Hawk who had slumped wearily against the bunk, his balance quite off. 'Bullshit.' They said; but before any one could make a move, Victor Creed rammed the lead against the wall and smacked the other two violently around the head. All three guards fell to the floor while Mystique morphed from Val's disreputable image into one of the downed guards. Spaskyich, who was not quite unconscious yet, tried to utter his disapproval, but was silenced as Sabretooth clapped a hefty hand over his mouth. Mystique, as the lead guard, walked up through the hallway and past the man behind the glass pane. With a finger near to the alarm button, Mystique knew she had to distract the guard long enough for Sabretooth to haul their bulky Texan rag doll through the doors. Until they were on the ground floor, escape by tearing a hole in the wall was not an option lest they fancied digging a way out through metres of earth. Sabretooth stood behind the opaque metal doors with Spaskyich in tow, hardly panting for fear of detection. He waited until Mystique went past the guard, and then returned in the form of a sultry black-suited agent woman.
'How are you doing?' She asked the man, standing by the door to his booth. He walked over and inspected the room straight in front, cautious of any mysterious activity. 'Which one of the guys sent you?' He asked, grinning like an idiot.
'Why don't we talk about them later…' She said, unzipping the front part of the black jacket and revealing more of herself to him.
'Who am I gonna get to watch the floor?' His voice held just the perfect amount of smugness and arrogance that Mystique knew he was engrossed. He unlocked the booth door, letting her walk through the entrance. With his back to the adjoining room, the man missed Sabretooth dragging Spaskyich in and then out of more doors. His eyes caught sight of the action on the monitor screens behind, and in the middle of a furious kiss, he threw her off of him. His hand landed on the alarm call button, and immediately the lighting within the halls switched to a deep crimson. Mystique disposed of him, before busting out the booth in his guise and running after Sabretooth.
As the lights suddenly switched, Victor knew the mission had been compromised. Fortunately, he could escape through the wall directly in front of them – it lead through to a small side entrance that was used as a fire escape. His powerful legs carried him rapidly toward the impediment, ready for the crashing impact that would arise from digging through the thick metal infrastructure. Wolverine had done it before in the Weapon X installation, and now he would emulate the performance, only better. To the left of him, and in the way of the wall, more SHIELD guards appeared; guns and riot prods at the ready. Spaskyich was deposited on the floor while Sabretooth took the brunt of the guards attack, mustering the anger and energy of his fatal retaliation. Mystique burst through the doors as Sabretooth gutted one of the guards and then dispatched the others. He raked his thin claws across the dented metal wall, and dug at its obstruction. After half a minute he managed to rip away part of the metal and tear a hole into the daylight. 'We don't have all damn day!' She shouted, glancing at the entrances for more gun-totting psychopathic men in black. Making a bigger gap, the feral mutant then climbed out into the side entrance and helped Mystique carry a delirious Spaskyich out. The shape-shifting enchantress assimilated the form of another SHIELD soldier and she ran out into the road just ahead, cordoning off an area for a large car to pull into. The doors of the vehicle were flung open, and Sabretooth packed their prisoner in, and then sat opposite the driver. 'Move it!' He shouted before Mystique bundled herself in, and the car lurched onto the road. It sped away while the building went up in a hail of panic.
* * *
Arriving back at the Mansion, Tessa was still angry with Charles's decision. She assumed it had never dawned on him that Erik would start to recall all the events, because the man had unusually high brainpower without being a telepath. It had taken great effort to bring Erik to his knees in the first place, almost getting Piotr and Logan killed in the process, not to mention the entire presidential cabinet and the leader of the country as well. However one looked at the situation, it appeared fraught with danger. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now; Charles had confirmed his choice even no-one else concurred, and Tessa was in no position to quarrel. Things were returning to a state of normality – their home was being rebuilt from devastation, and the students themselves had come through the ordeal alive and well. She couldn't speak for everyone, but whatever didn't kill her, made her stronger. Right now, Tessa estimated that she must have been feeling very strong.
The memories from Weapon X still lingered, and at times she had nightmares about the barbarity witnessed there. Such a place had become a torture chamber fit only for the downfall of society, but the irony was that the mutants themselves were considered to be part of it. They weren't required to adapt to the conditions set within Spaskyich's bizarre domain, they were supposed to integrate themselves to a predisposed environment. It was almost as if the man believed that a mutant's lot in life existed around base human servitude. Equality in one man's dominion was the hardest task to achieve as a person could only create as was defined by their personality.
Deciding to leave these morbid thoughts behind, Tessa stepped into the lobby and wondered at the unusual silence echoing in and out of the building. The workmen must be on a break, she assumed correctly. Her travels brought her through to the ground floor monitoring station. It was a small room, fit only for standing in the doorway and watching the bank of screens carefully for cctv activity in and out of the estate. Just inside the doorway though, was an empty shotgun with the keys to a tiny safe next to the screens. Put specifically for safety measures, Tessa hoped they would never have to defend themselves with such a weapon again. Scott and Jean swam lazily in the indoor pool, and Tessa found herself feeling glad at their pursued relationship. From what she had seen the two were not a couple yet due to Scott's procrastination, but after Logan's dealings with the both of them, Jean was warming to him once more. Tessa glanced at the other panning cctv camera screens and saw the rest of the students engaged in a rather furious table tennis tournament in the conservatory.
She went up to her room on the second floor which she sometimes shared with Jean, but on the way became distracted by the bustling sound of material coming from across the balcony. Walking into the men's dormitory corridor, she entered the first room and saw Piotr stuffing his suitcases with belongings. Somehow in the sway of excitement shown on camera she had missed him. He was hurrying; shoving clothes, bits and pieces into every empty crevice in the bags. 'What's going on here?' She asked leaning on the door frame. The big man faced her with a graven expression stained on his chiselled features. 'I'm leaving – I have to go back home.' He said, zipping up a case and tossing it onto the bed sheets.
'This is a bit sudden…' Tessa responded, going into the room and toying with several of his possessions still lying around. 'Why exactly?'
'It's none of your business.' Piotr clunked more cases onto the bed, full, and checked the room once over.
'Did you get a phone call? Shouldn't you check with the Professor first? I mean we don't want to get rid of you.' She stepped behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Have you told Kitty? She kind of likes you.'
'No! Look, I haven't got time to deal with anyone else here – just let me go in peace.'
'Can't you give me any explanation?' She enquired, searching for something to postpone his exit. He plucked his heavy bags up in large hands and ambled out of the entrance, storming down the hallway. 'It'll be the first death in our family!' She shouted in anger. Any last attempts for his restraint vanished, so using harsh language was her last resort.
'I already have a family!' He replied.
Tessa bounded down the stairs after him and ran to get the others before he departed. When his entourage finally accumulated in the lobby, Piotr had taken a cab straight to the airport and left nothing behind.
* * *
Moving his chair slowly behind the crowds of people ducking in and out of the plaza shops, Charles talked to his acquaintances while choosing his words carefully. Even though they were aiming to get to a secluded corner of the mall, Charles had to make sure he kept his voice low. Mention of Magneto's name could get anybody's ears to perk up, and he could never really tell how people were going to react. Pietro and Wanda were with him, contacted through a cell phone number left by the speedy mutant when he was taken back with the students. His act of bravery had allowed for Magneto's downfall, and without the intervention, the master of magnetism could surely have eradicated the entire city of Washington D.C. Still living in fear of his father, Pietro felt guided by his sister, Wanda, and her leadership. Although they had left Magneto's followers, both still saw their father regularly since his relocation, but never conformed to anything else. As far as the Maximoff children were concerned, they played no more part in the world's politics.
Charles was glad that they had the sense to steer clear of any more influence as together they became quite formidable. He felt it was only right that Erik now had no hold on them. He did, however, understand it was his duty to inform them of the recent disturbances he could feel. 'I'm not sure where this will lead to, but I can certainly feel strong emotions bubbling up through his mind. I can't tell whether they have started to affect him yet, or whether they actually will, but it's something to be cautious of.' He observed the twins while they came to rest on a bench in a much quieter part of the plaza. 'I'd be sorry if I had to destroy his mind once more – it doesn't seem right.'
'Perhaps we should get him out of the city… take him to another much more private area in the country.' Wanda suggested. She wrapped the long purple coat around herself, the wind beginning to pick up in the open-air mall. 'After all, it might be the atmosphere that's provoking these passionate flares in his memory.'
'As I said, I don't know whether they are penetrating his waking thoughts yet – it could just be nightmares.' Charles replied, rubbing his temples. Not only was it confusing Erik, but him too.
'Bad dreams are usually an indication of recent events or feelings.' Pietro said, watching the crowd. 'If he tries to interpret any of them, it could lead to triggering all the events trapped in his mind. If that were to happen, only the inevitable, terrible truth would arise.'
'What would be worse was if his memories are altered from the experience, and our father can't quite recall everything properly. He could blame us, or you, Charles or even the entire world!' Wanda exclaimed. She got up and walked to the tip of the milling people, almost expecting the descent of a solution upon them. 'How are we supposed to combat his anger then?' She posed to Pietro. He shook his head despairingly, and stared at Charles.
'Are you suggesting another attempt at destroying his mind?' The Professor asked, swivelling on his chair.
'How much time do you think we have left with the real Erik?'
'It's too difficult to tell – do you want to see him before I do it?' Charles replied. The two defeated siblings agreed, and then turned the option down. 'I think it might be too painful. I don't want to see him and then have him forget that I was there… It's not right.' Pietro said. 'God!'
'Then right away, I suppose.' Charles stated, gazing at the ground. This option was hardly his first choice, but if it was the difference between amity and hostility, then he was willing to make the sacrifice. 'There will be large parts of his memory missing, just like before. He won't be able to access them consciously, but they will still exist in his subconscious. Again,' he continued, laying down the law 'it is not one hundred percent effective – the time might arrive when we have to make this choice again. It won't be any easier.'
A thought struck Wanda, and she managed to voice it before they concluded the meeting. 'What if you were to alter his memories – change the bad ones into good; wouldn't that work?'
'Doing such a task is even more hazardous to his already fragile mind. It might work, but then he could have a nervous breakdown if nothing made complete sense. Discontinuity would exist everywhere, and it might end up that I have to alter his entire mind – then, he wouldn't be the man you know.'
'If it's like that, then we might as well get him a lobotomy.' Pietro answered. 'No; this is the way it must be done. You and I, Wanda, we can see him afterwards and explain he had some kind of a stroke or something… I'm not sure, but we can decide what to tell him.'
'It will be tough-going, but you always have my number for advice.' Xavier placed both hands on Wanda's outstretched palm. 'I'll do it tomorrow morning, and then have him placed in the best hospital in upstate New York. You can then arrive as relatives and take him with you. Any medication they prescribe – just throw it away, or decline.'
As the three departed, and Charles went off into the crowd of shoppers, Wanda and Pietro were left to walk alone. 'It's funny almost,' Pietro exclaimed, chuckling in spite of the pang of guilt hanging over him 'our father would never admit his ignorance is bliss.'
* * *
Fabian Cortez stood atop the small hill in the heart of Central Park. He was alone; save for the comforting bluster of wind that reminded him of what it was to be free. It slapped his long fair around his cheeks before he tired and trussed it up in a ponytail behind. The weather outside was dreary, much like the atmosphere within the city and he longed to be back in the sunshine, basking like a lizard as it warmed his cold blood. Narrow eyes scoured the surrounding grassland below, surveying the contents with great contempt. Much like Tessa had felt earlier but merely more extreme, Cortez detested normal people. They appeared as cattle to him, fit only for herding and slaughter. He had come to Magneto as part of a rebel faction of Mutant Terrorism. Along with his sister, Anne Marie, they had banded together with an army Sergeant Harry Delgado, and several other men, one known simply as Chrome. Deciding to hone their skills so that they might serve a higher cause, Fabian eventually found Magneto and persuaded the others to join. In a fight to secure their safety among the Savage land peoples, the Acolytes were hounded by SHIELD soldiers whom they had stolen several boats off. In the process of their egression from humanity, SHIELD destroyed several accompanying ships that carried other Acolytes, and Cortez was the only man left strong enough to lead. Before the two fighting forces even came close to the Savage land's coasts, Magneto himself entered the area and took apart ships. Their lord's original intention was to abandon the two forces to drown, but through pleading, Cortez managed to gain access to the hidden territory.
Once both sides were released in Magneto's fortress, the SHIELD agents tried to kill Delgado and his personal force for his disbanding. Anne Marie was caught in the cross-fire, and nearly died in Magneto's arms. Through sudden anger at the futile attempts to engage each other in his dominion, the lord killed the agents, and allowed for Cortez to heal his sister. The remaining mutant terrorists pledged themselves to his cause, and were set up to protect and serve their master. Soon after, through a tangled series of events, many of the Acolytes were captured by genetic researchers who were revealed to be linked with Weapon X. Although Magneto had no interest in such an operation or its objectives, he took revenge on the scientists and their installation in the West Siberian Plains by levelling the entire locale. Grateful for their freedom once more, Cortez stood by Magneto as he progressed to demand of the world.
After the brutal and uncompromising assault on the Savage land, Cortez usurped control over the small empire, and began to have it rebuilt. The Sentinels had been disposed of, and even in Magneto's absence, Fabian knew that the land could forever be a haven for those who wanted freedom from abuse. Somehow, the society escaped punishment for its potential criminal harbouring because their benevolent dictator was brought to justice, but as Cortez estimated, it would only be a matter of time before the land ignited once more and the fire of retribution scorched the free world. He would ensure that justice was wrought upon those who wronged him and the rationalized cause. The only way such a resurrection could take place though, was if his lord remembered; were Magneto to rise from the ashes, he could surely bring the world to its knees without mercy this time.
Determined to seal his fate, Cortez made a way down the grassy slope and toward the wooden bridge. Leaves flew in the wind, and then danced around him as he waited on the crossing. The faint trickle of water gurgled below, and he stared down into the murky depths. Holding his ponytail hair out of the way, he spat into the dark water, and then looked up as footsteps clunked over the first few parts of the bridge. Cortez's eyes widened in recognition, and his excitement flared inside, before he contained it. The man appeared just the same as before, but an aura of peace blinked out from the eyes; he was almost resting among these people – satisfied with a life such as this. Cortez swallowed his exasperation, and gave a toothy grin to his former lord. Behind his thin, dark eyes lay a disturbing truth, but it wasn't about to reveal itself for everyone else to realise. 'Mr Lehnsherr?'
Erik stopped just beside the man.
'I have something to speak to you about. You… may not remember me – we have met once before I think. Here.' Cortez extended his hand from the jacket and shook Erik's ominously. 'I want to discuss your past. Please come with me.' Fabian snuck an arm around the puzzled man's shoulders and slowly pulled them across the bridge. As the wind fluttered angrily through the park, the two men disappeared.