Hear
me, speaking
Asking why I even bother
Tell me, how you
Live
from day to day
With no metal within three hundred feet, he thought. Erik Lensherr sighed, and placed the bookmark at the page he was at. Closing the book, he placed it on the table, and reflected on the journey that had ended with him, trapped, caged by the authorities, in a clear acrylic cell suspended twenty feet above ground.
Take
your time and look around
Is this utopia you've found?
He had thought it had been, all those years ago. As an eighteen-year-old boy who had slaved away to get the steamer fare for a one-way trip to the United States from Portsmouth, alone, after escaping the hell on earth that had been Auschwitz. He had never seen his parents after they had been ripped away from him, moments before his powers had manifested. He remembered, as if it were only yesterday, the sight of the Statue of Liberty as the boat pulled up alongside Ellis Island. He had heard stories of the Land of Opportunity, and the green statue that welcomed any traveler with her torch and tablets. He had been in awe, and came to love everything that statue stood for.
Sick
of all of this
The suffering and we just carry on
Isn't it time
we care and lose the hate?
Understand our fears?
The Homo Sapiens didn't seem to think so. Even now, powerless, Erik marveled at the blinkered dichotomy exhibited by the world's most powerful government. Here they were, a land made up of immigrants, a relic of the European obsession with colonizing new lands. The old order had been transplanted, instead of being cast off and replaced. So, therefore, had all the old prejudices and fears been carried along. It was odd, that in this supposedly enlightened period, something as basic as civil rights, first for blacks, then gays, then mutants were still on the political agenda.
Erik shook his head, and chuckled humourlessly. And even now, the politicians still weren't willing to give ground. Unless you were white, rich, and conservative, you didn't have a chance at succeeding in America.
The politicians bleated on about equality, and liberty, and justice for all, but still the lynchings continued, still the mutants were discriminated against, and still the Mutant Registration Act was being considered.
But we do all that we can
Justify the
means to an end
And that's where the man formerly known as Magneto found himself now. The means: A plastic prison cell being fed drugged food, with no chance whatsoever of any metal finding its way to him. The end?
He didn't know. Death? Life imprisonment?
Possible re-integration to society?
He snorted.
Sorry
you must excuse me
I've painted my own Mona Lisa
She's fixed
everything
Now I'm spoiled beyond my wildest dreams
He had everything he could possibly need, except for three things:
Privacy. The damned cameras were fibre-optic, and so weren't susceptible to magnetic trickery. He couldn't even go to the toilet without someone watching. The only time they were switched off was when he was being interrogated.
Metal. They were, for obvious reasons, never going to let so much as a coin come his way if they could possibly help it.
Relief from Stryker. The man was insane. He had drugged Erik on more than one occasion, forcing him to give him details on the machine known as Cerebro. Erik had a fair idea on what Stryker planned to do with it, and his suspicions had been horribly confirmed when both him and Charles had both collapsed in the cell, knocked out by sleep gas. Erik had known true fear at that point, the memories of Auschwitz and the "Shower rooms" flooding back in an instant.
Blind
Faith we have in you
Invisible
Which direction do we
choose
Predictable
Blind faith? Who had it? And for whom? He considered the question. After all, there wasn't much in the way of a social life now.
The humans, for their leaders, and their Gods. Personally, Erik was of the opinion that any god who let something like Auschwitz happen was either having the day off, sadistic, or just didn't exist.
But try telling that to the Senate. They'd have a collective heart attack.
His followers?
What followers?
Toad, electrocuted by the Weather Witch at Liberty Island, and sent hurtling into the waters. Sabretooth, who had fallen from the top of Liberty's crown after his fight with the Wolverine, smashing through the boat directly underneath. Erik doubted very much that he'd survived.
Mystique. The shape-changer. Stabbed by Wolverine after she tried to impersonate Storm and infiltrate their team. It had been sheer bad luck that she had come across the feral first, and that he had been able to smell the difference.
And that was all of them. However, he had not seen Mystique die. He still clung to a faint hope that she had survived.
Because if she had not, then it meant that his dream was finished. Mutantkind and humankind would never live in harmony.
Take
the streets, the beaten path
Our system works for whom I ask
Yeah
I have it all
The bigger house
An iron fence to keep you out
And that thought led to his old friend Charles, and his Institute for Gifted Children. A wonderful idea in principle. Such a pity it would never work. Teaching the young was a noble profession, and Erik had no end of respect for Charles for doing so, especially with mutant children, those whose powers were just manifesting. Where Charles and Erik disagreed was the philosophy behind the education. Whereas Charles was filling the students' heads with idealistic notions of integrationism and peace, Erik had been there, done that, and got the tattoo in his arm. That was the one thing Charles had never understood. The lessons of the past could never be unlearnt, but Humanity as a whole seemed to have difficulty grasping the outcome of one group discriminating against another. It seemed to Erik that for the children of the future, they would learn of two historical Holocausts, of the Jews and the Mutants.
When
did we all let you down
So come Messiah show us how
Our human
spirit drowns
Don't think you hear me now
No sign of you
around
What is it you hope to see
Blind Faith we have in
you
Invisible
Which direction do we choose
Predictable
Always. Anything the humans feared, they lashed out at. He had seen it happen time and time again.
Give
us something we can use
Desirable
Cause you've done all you can
do
Regrettable
Regrettable. His actions at Liberty Island were. He had tried other ways to secure good mutant-human relations, but in the end, the only course that seemed open to him was to make humans feel what mutants felt. That, if anything would secure equal rights for mutants.
How did he saying go? "To see something from another's perspective, walk a mile in someone else's shoes."
And
still life pushes on
With or without you
We've got to carry
on
Our will, will guide us to
A place where we belong
Know
there lies the truth
I am the believer who gives purpose on to
you
Erik wondered if there was such a place. Where did mutants belong?
According to Senator Kelly, the American version of Auschwitz.
But then again, Kelly had suddenly changed his outlook and become a staunch liberal, with a pro-mutant outlook. Maybe his machine had worked.
I
don't think we let you down
So come Messiah show us how
Throw
us a pure lifeline
I hope that you hear me
Too proud to be
around
There's more to us than we see now
And then what Erik had deemed the highlight of the day occurred. Laurio, the guard, entered the cell through the collapsible plastic corridor with the afternoon meal. Plastic crockery, - was that an oxymoron? He'd have to think on that later. Plastic cutlery, and-
Senses awaken, perceptions shift. He almost dared to hope.
Blind
Faith we have in you
Invisible
"There's something different about you today, Mr. Laurio," he said, standing up. "What can it be?"
Which
direction do we choose
Predictable
"Sit down!" yelled Laurio, before suddenly finding himself two feet in the air, arms outstretched.
Self
ignorance, abuse
Desirable
"Too much iron in the blood," said Erik, exerting his will and dragging it out of him, molecule by molecule. It must have been Mystique. Only she would be capable and wily enough to think this up.
A red mist exuded from Laurio's chest, slowly forming into three ball-bearing sized lumps of metal.
"Never trust a beautiful woman, Mr. Laurio, especially one interested in you," he said to the lifeless corpse at his feet.
Cause
you've done all you can do
Incredible.
And with that, Magneto walked free.
