Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters
The sound of the bell echoed through the corridors, signaling the end of the last class of the day.
Jean Grey left the classroom slowly, carefully closing the door behind her, as if she didn't want to disturb the newly formed silence. Once she was alone in the hallway, she raised a hand to her temples and gently massaged them, feeling the accumulated fatigue inevitably surface.
"I wonder what Arthur, Gwen, and… that redhead are doing right now…" she murmured to herself.
She let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
"It's only been a few days since I last saw them… and I already miss them."
It wasn't something Jean would easily admit out loud. After all, it really had only been a few days since she had last seen him. And yet, the absence of Gwen and that red-haired woman weighed on her more than she cared to acknowledge.
When they returned to the institute after the battle against the Abomination, she had gone straight to speak with Professor Xavier. However, to her surprise and frustration, the very next morning Charles ordered the complete lockdown of the institute.
No one was allowed to leave for an indefinite period of time.
Moreover, Jean hadn't seen him again since then.
For most of the X-Men—and even for the students at the institute—this kind of behavior wasn't new. Many didn't even mind. For them, the Xavier Institute was, paradoxically, the only place in the world where they could experience something close to freedom.
Jean understood that.
She also understood that it would be impossible to make Charles accept her words overnight.
Changes like that didn't happen abruptly.
After all, Professor X had been walking the same path for decades. Convincing him would require patience, persistence… and time.
Sighing, Jean resumed walking, heading toward her dormitory.
That was when something caught her attention.
"Logan?"
She frowned as she recognized the unmistakable figure walking toward the administrative building—more specifically, toward the wing where the headmaster's office was located.
Jean knew Logan well enough to understand that whenever he headed there, it meant Charles had called for him.
She considered continuing on her way, but curiosity got the better of her.
Almost instinctively, Jean began to follow him, enveloping herself in a subtle layer of psychic energy, concealing her presence—not from Logan, but from Charles.
She didn't want to be detected.
Logan, on the other hand, immediately noticed that he was being followed, but he didn't comment on it.
He simply kept walking.
Soon after, the two arrived at the door to Professor X's office. Logan entered without knocking.
Jean remained outside, but stepped closer to the door to listen to the conversation.
---
Professor Xavier's Office
Upon entering, Logan found Charles with his back turned, standing in front of the large window that overlooked the institute's gardens.
"Charles, why did you call me?" Logan asked, as direct as ever.
"Logan…" Charles's voice was calm, but it carried an unease that was hard to conceal. "I'm curious to know who Jean has been meeting with lately."
Logan raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Can you tell me?" Charles continued. "I must admit that… his thoughts are… interesting. Beneficial, even."
"I'm sure you already know who it is, Charles," Logan replied bluntly.
An odd silence settled in the room for a few seconds.
"Yes… I know…" Charles sighed deeply.
He brought a hand to his forehead, as if that name weighed more heavily than he wished.
"Kenshin…" he murmured. "No. Arthur Morgan. Who would have imagined he would reappear in Jean's life like this…"
"He's very different from the cold assassin we knew years ago," Logan said, leaning against the wall. "But I have no doubt it's him. I'd never forget that bastard's scent—and Jean had the same scent on her."
Charles remained silent for a few moments.
"I need to find an opportunity to speak with him…" he finally said.
Logan shrugged.
"That's not my problem anymore, Charles," he replied. "Call me if you need me for a fight… or something like that."
Without waiting for a response, Logan turned around and left the office.
"Oh, and considering his strength and powers, it wouldn't be strange if he were a mutant as well," Logan added just before leaving.
Outside, Jean felt a chill run down her spine.
Arthur, a mutant? That thought had never crossed her mind before.
And the worst part was that, in a way, it made sense.
---
Not long after Logan left the office, Charles remained there, unmoving.
"Ahh… I'm already far too old…" he murmured to himself.
He slowly turned his wheelchair, positioning himself once more in front of the window.
From there, he could see the entire Xavier Institute—the building he had constructed with his own hands—watching the children play carefree in the courtyard, laughing, running, being… children.
The contrast tightened his chest.
Charles knew—he knew very well—that if things continued this way, those children might never be able to live outside those walls.
And, tragically, that would be the best possible outcome for them.
Just as Jean had said a few days earlier.
If things followed their natural course, only two destinies awaited mutants: Either him… or Magneto.
And the eternal war between the two of them would eventually lead everyone to ruin.
"Perhaps…" he murmured. "Perhaps it's time to end this fight… Éric."
He closed his eyes and brought his right hand to his temple.
---xXx---
Somewhere in the world
In a completely different environment, an old man with white hair, an upright posture, and sharp eyes sat at a table, focused on a game of chess.
Magneto.
Suddenly, he froze.
The piece he held in midair did not move.
An old and very familiar voice echoed directly within his mind.
"Hello, Charles."
Magneto narrowed his eyes.
"It's surprising that you're the one taking the initiative to contact me."
The reply came immediately.
Éric… after all these years, I've finally realized that my way of doing things isn't working.
Magneto felt his heart begin to race.
Do you have some time?
Come to the Xavier Institute. Let's sit face to face and talk.
For a moment, Magneto remained completely silent.
Then—
He rose almost abruptly from his chair.
"Finally…" he murmured, with a smile that mixed satisfaction and disbelief.
After so many years…
That old idealist had finally realized it.
Finally understood that he was wrong.
He had never understood why Charles was so pacifistic toward humans.
In Magneto's view, humans should not be convinced.
They should be eliminated.
Still…
"Give me a moment," he replied mentally. "I'll meet you as soon as possible."
"It's been a long time since we last played chess."
Without wasting any more time, Magneto began putting the chessboard away.
---
(End of the chapter)