May 16, 1955

Bullets ripped around the corner. Charles ducked behind a wall, panting. A year ago he would have never believed himself capable of this. He'd been winded from running from three MRD officers for the love of everything good and holy. Now he was battling seven heavily armed guards with nothing but his mind. His gun was, he told himself, just there for emergencies.

Putting his hand to his temple he concentrated, leapfrogging from mind to mind. The guards collapsed, unconscious for the next fifteen hours. They would all suffer terrible headaches when they woke up, but their comfort wasn't something he had time for at the moment. The fact that they would live would have to be his gift. Not all of their co-workers would find such a fair deal from his companions.

He ran down the hall, heading for the power grid, glancing out the window at a rain-drenched land. Genosha. Charles knew very little about the island off the coast of Africa. There was only a vague mention of it in his textbooks. It was originally colonizied by Europeans, he remembered that. The natives had believed it to be cursed and uninhabitable.

It turned out that they may have been right about the curse part, but definitely not about the uninhabitable. Its strategic importance had meant its history was pock-marked with grisly battles. He was vaguely aware that it still operated by monarchy and kept itself isolated from much of the surrounding world.

For a long time he'd wondered how such a country could keep its autonomy in the face of the Soviet Union's expansionary ambitions. Now he knew.

"This is the largest of the three mutant detention centers on the island," he'd said two days earlier, "Apparently the Soviets have been shipping their mutants there for research for the past two years through some sort of program. Along with the local mutant population, which seems to be very high, there are thousands of mutants imprisoned there."

Next to him Erik had glared down at the schematic. Raven stood between him and Erik, her yellow eyes looking curiously down. She knew more about such things than she had several years ago, more than he was comfortable with her knowing. She was still so young. It was too late to change such things, to have her gain back her innocence to where it had been.

"Looks stupid. Why the hell don't those bastards just break out?"

Charles winced and looked up. The feline and incredibly unsettling eyes of Victor Creed looked down at him. Next to him his brother, Logan, gave him a quick glance before looking back at the schematic. The brothers made him wary for a number of reasons. Logan he wasn't really worried about; he was gruff but a decent person under it all. His brother was a nightmare.

He'd expressed his concerns to Erik. Erik had agreed, but said they couldn't afford to be picky about allies. He was, unfortunately, right. They just had to keep a level of separation between themselves and the brothers. Charles had also made sure to have a quiet word with Raven about never being alone with Victor. She was only eleven, and he didn't trust him.

When it came to ripping their way into a place the brothers were very effective though. Their fast-healing bodies were also an asset. Charles wondered if they could be killed at all.

"The reports I intercepted indicate that they have something deactivating their powers. Some sort of two-pronged grid," said Erik, "We have one shot at this. If we take down the first base then we can resupply and get fresh reinforcements to take down the next."

"We'll have to be quick about it," Logan said, scratching his chin, "This isn't going to be a cake walk."

"Duly noted. However, I already have a plan," Erik said.

"Figures," Victor said.

"We split up first off," Erik said, ignoring Victor, "and take an area. I'm counting on you and Logan to take care of the front and the back. The heaviest artillery will be there and I know you're both capable of disarming that."

Victor smirked.

"Any chance of getting to do it our way?"

Logan looked uncomfortable but Victor continued to smirk. In their short acquaintance the brothers had always been instructed to hold back. The first time they had seen them in action it had been a bloodbath. Charles' initial condition for them to come with them, something they all recognized they needed to do, was to refrain from ever repeating those actions. Erik had agreed, although his friend had been slightly more reluctant.

Victor was never particularly good at following that order, but Logan at least made the attempt. Charles got the feeling that Logan was different from his brother in several important ways. The only reason Victor did anything they said at all was because he didn't want to spend the rest of his life locked up. He also appreciated power and, at least when it came to their abilities, Charles and Erik were superior in that.

Charles never wanted to think about what would happen if they gave them the permission to go full throttle. It was why he disliked this part of the plan, had disliked Erik's particular edge for it. There were good arguments for it, time being one of them, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

"These people imprison and experiment on mutants," said Erik, "I don't give a damn what you do to them."

Victor grinned and inclined his head to Charles.

"You sure psychic-boy here feels the same way?"

"You could just ask me. I am here you know," Charles said coolly, "And quite honestly your definition of not holding back disgusts me. But this place is heavily armed. It's not like we have a choice right now."

Victor laughed. Logan glanced at Charles and then back down at the schematic. He wondered what was going on in his mind at the moment. Whatever he was thinking, it obviously wasn't the same as his brother.

"Feelin' righteous are we?" asked Victor.

"Enough," Erik said harshly, "We'll do this tomorrow. If we fail then we try to get as many out as possible and regroup for another attack. If we fail completely then there won't be anything we can do to recover."

The words echoed in Charles' ears as he continued on. He hadn't run into the cells yet but he could feel their minds. The place he was in was a place of deep pain and anguish. All of the prisoners knew that something was going on, but none of them thought it would mean their freedom. The sheer hopelessness was staggering.

He flung open the north door. Two scientists stood there, looking up at him in surprise. He immediately put one under and took control of the other. It felt uncomfortable, an aspect of his power that he had rarely used before he had run from his home. The fact that he could do it disgusted him, made him feel unclean.

However, he had no knowledge of the power grid. The scientist did. Guiding him gently he had him switch it off. When it was done Charles put him under and released him. With a deep sigh he headed out of the room, still on the lookout for soldiers. The rendezvous point was coming up soon. He had to find Erik and press on to the control room.

He found him down one of the halls after ten more minutes of travelling. A few guards were writhing on the floor from bullet wounds. Charles tried hard not to think about how many times his friend had set their weapons against him. His thoughts showed on his face and Erik rolled his eyes as Charles drew level with him.

"You know they would do worse to us if they caught us," Erik said.

"I'm aware," answered Charles, "I just don't see why we have to parrot their methods."

"An eye for an eye," Erik said as they came to a restricted door, "And then some more if they don't get the picture."

Charles shook his head. They stopped at the door. Erik stretched his hand out, the door shuddering as he tried to pull it apart. He stopped after a minute, panting and looking frustrated.

"Between serenity and rage Erik," Charles said gently, "Serenity and rage."

Erik took a deep breath. He could see his friend's struggle. Then the door shuddered, its interlocking parts coming undone. The door opened and Erik smiled, putting his hand down. Charles nodded. His friend's powers were growing; he really was gaining control. It made him wonder how much untapped potential Erik had. More than him, certainly.

Now that the door was open Charles could just make out a passageway. It was dark; the lights had probably gone down when he switched off the power grid. It didn't look like anyone was inside though. Most of the scientists had probably fled with any of the guards who had managed to escape Erik and the brothers.

Looking smug Erik took a step into the door. Immediately he fell to his knees, clutching his head and his face a mask of agony. Charles raced to his side. A sharp pain started in his head, nearly knocking him back as well. Feelings and sensations were being forced on him, but he put his shields up in time. He put a hand on his temple, driving the attacker from his mind.

Realizing what was going on he thought as loudly as he could;

We are not your enemies. We're here to help.

Next to him Erik's hands dropped from the side of his head. He looked up, panting and his eyes dark. From the shadows a girl stepped forward, barely out of her teens. Her hands were held limply by her side and traggling brown hair fell over a threadbare jumpsuit. It was a faded brown, a few numbers printed on the right breast pocket. Her cheekbones were sunken in she swallowed nervously. Blue eyes darted between the two of them.

We're here to help, Charles thought again.

She nodded. Charles felt his heart leap in delight, a childish giddiness.

English? she thought tentatively.

"Yes," Charles said aloud.

Erik looked at him curiously but said nothing. Charles helped him to his feet.

"Thank God. I don't know Genoshan," she said, "We're trying to disarm the doors."

"That's what we're here for," Erik said.

"Good," the girl said, "Azazel is working on it right now."

He blinked at the name, but he didn't have much time to contemplate it. She turned around and began walking down the darkened pathway. Erik rubbed his shoulder and gave the girl a questioning look.

"What just happened?" he asked.

Charles smiled, feeling the giddiness return.

"We're in the presence of another telepath," Charles said.

The girl looked over her shoulder.

"There's a name for it?" she asked.

"Yes, there is," Charles said, "Well, it's an English one. I'm American and-"

"I'm American too," she said.

"Then what on earth are you doing on Genosha?" asked Erik.

She reached the end of the hallway and pressed a button. The door slid open to see who he could only assume was Azazel tapping away furiously at a command center. The name fit.

"I ran a very long way," she said.

Azazel looked up. Pale blue eyes glared at Charles, deep set in red skin. He pulled his lips back into a snarl.

"Friends," the woman said quickly.

He snorted, his pointed tail slashing the air.

"We're the reason the alarms are going off," Erik said, "We have three more members of our party. Two are keeping the guards busy and the third is readying medical supplies."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"Explains screams from outside," Azazel said.

He dropped from the chair and pushed himself underneath the command center. As he did Charles saw briefly that his side was bloodied. Azazel grabbed two wires and fused them together. There was a brief shower of sparks and he pulled himself out. Pulling himself back into the chair he pressed a key.

"Your doors are open," he said.

Smirking he began to pull himself out of the chair. The girl hurried to his side and grabbed his arm.

"Don't you dare try to teleport with the state you're in," she said fiercely.

Azazel sighed and nodded, looking tired.

"We should be downstairs organizing them," Charles said, "We'd best get down there and organize them into troupes and see if we can help Victor and Logan overwhelm the soldiers."

"I think they'll be fine," Erik said, "But still. You two know the way down?"

Azazel nodded.

"Let's get going."

They began walking, making slow progress due to Azazel's wound. Charles went over to help, the girl nodding at him gratefully. He had to shift his weight, but the girl didn't seem to mind.

"How do you two know each other?" he asked.

"Cellmates," Azazel said, "I was in Russian Army so know Russian, English, native Genoshan. She speak English. Nyet going to make many friends that way."

"My powers meant I never had to," she protested, "And I spent one year on my own before they caught me, two with others.

"Others?" asked Erik.

The girl's face suddenly shut down. Her eyes became blank and her mouth opened slightly. Azazel shook his head furiously.

"Do nyet ask," he said, "All I know is she used to be with siblings. They are nyet here."

Charles swallowed uncomfortably and Erik's face hardened. Next to them the girl was slowly blinking again, taking gulps of air. Charles cast about for a subject they could discuss to distract her. Whatever had happened had obviously been traumatic for her. He wished he could find a way to help permanently. She couldn't be more than fifteen.

Her eyes regained their awareness.

"I'm terribly sorry," Charles said, casting desperately, "I forgot introductions. I'm Charles Xavier, and that's Erik Lensherr."

She titled her head proudly.

"Emma Frost."