This wasn't how Charles Xavier had expected to visit Albion, far from it.
Yet here he was, surrounded by the painful gasps and groans of his extended family.
For a moment, he reached out with his mind, gently scanning the minds surrounding him, not to intrude on anyone's thoughts, but to confirm that everyone was there and that everyone was alive.
After all, with the chaos all around, relying on his eyes alone wouldn't let him get confirmation; only this way could he quickly make sure.
And thankfully, he could let out a sigh of relief moments later, as he indeed confirmed that everyone was here and alive.
"Professor!" A member of the crowd split off upon seeing him, rushing to his side. "I did my best to arrange everything, but there wasn't much time, and, well, there are quite a few of you."
The Professor just nodded. "Thank you, John. I trust everyone is accounted for?" he asked as he tried to push himself up from the wheelchair, only to slump back down, a look of exhaustion on his face.
For all his power, he was not immune to the strain of battle, and the recent fight had taken its toll.
Even if he hadn't done much directly, he had worked hard in the background, and that had indeed taken much out of the quickly aging mutant.
"Yes, Professor. All students are accounted for, and so are the staff," John said, his own nervousness mirroring the Professor's exhaustion.
"Good," Charles said as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Then I must speak with the local authorities; we can't intrude on their hospitality," he added as he finally looked around, trying to find someone in charge.
He knew this was Utopia, the largest mutant settlement in Albion, and he knew that Magneto was the nominal leader here. Yet he also knew that Magneto was not here. He had left, gone to fight a war, a war that was now raging on their doorstep.
Before he could find someone to speak to, a figure emerged from the crowd of Utopians, a woman with a stern expression and a no-nonsense demeanor.
"Charles Xavier," she said, her voice low and controlled, a stark contrast to the chaos around them.
Though it was neither her voice nor her stern expression that drew attention to this woman. No, it was the fact that she was, by all rights, entirely naked.
And blue.
A blue, scaly, devilish-looking woman with a mane of red hair that cascaded down her back. A woman who was, by all accounts, a mutant, and one who was not afraid to show it.
"Mystique," Charles said, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He had not expected to see her here, not now, not in this capacity. "I did not expect to see you here, and in charge of things."
A flicker of amusement passed through her eyes. "I am full of surprises, Charles. And as for being in charge, well, someone has to keep this place running while Erik is off playing the hero." Her lips curled into a sardonic smile. "And I suppose I am the closest thing he has to a second-in-command."
Charles was, in truth, relieved to see a familiar face; more so, he was relieved to see that Raven was here, living a peaceful life, rather than pretending to be someone else while undercover.
He knew better than anyone how much chaos Raven could cause when impersonating someone, given how frighteningly good she was at it.
And he also knew very well how many people had been replaced by her while on her missions for Erik, so to see her here was reassuring, as it hinted at the fact that Erik was no longer using the old tactics.
"I am glad to see you, Raven," Charles said, genuine warmth in his tone.
Raven's expression softened for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of the woman he once knew, the friend he once had. "I am glad to see you too, Charles. Even if it is under these... less-than-ideal circumstances."
She then turned her attention to the crowd of exhausted, terrified mutants, her expression hardening once more. "While we welcome all mutants, even your agents such as John, we are also bound by rules, the rules of Albion; everyone is required to apply for residency," she explained, her tone firm but fair.
"Of course," Charles said with a nod. "We will abide by your laws, your rules. We are grateful for your hospitality, and we will not abuse it."
"Good," Raven said. "We aren't entirely heartless, and given that many of these people are children or injured, there won't be a problem with Albion's laws, but I do hope you can explain to me just what happened," she said, her curiosity getting the better of her.
And she wasn't the only one; all around them, countless people looked over, questions written on their faces. Even many of the still-conscious X-Men were curious about what had happened after Nightcrawler pulled them out.
Charles sighed, a deep, weary sound. "The school is no more... The enemy, machines made to kill our kind, I'm sure you are already aware of them?"
Raven nodded. "Yeah, Magneto went off to Ireland to deal with them, though we haven't had all that much time to go through whatever information the Illuminati shared with him," she explained. "Still, we know enough to know that they are dangerous."
"Dangerous is an understatement, my dear friend," Charles said, a grim look on his face. "They are more than that; they are adaptive, powerful, and relentless. They were a threat that we could not overcome."
He then paused, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the right words to describe the sheer, overwhelming power they had faced. "The X-Men did their best. We fought with all our might, with all our courage. But it was not enough. The Sentinels were... too much."
"Too much?" Raven asked, her skepticism clear. "The X-Men? Beaten? By a bunch of tin cans? That's a bit hard to swallow, Charles. I've seen your team in action. I know what they're capable of."
And she did know, better than most. She had fought them, worked alongside them, and even, in a different lifetime, been one of them.
"It was not a simple battle, Raven," Charles said, his voice heavy with the weight of his words. "It was... a slaughter. The Sentinels were playing around, using us as little more than a chance to learn, to adapt; if they had wanted, I fear not a single one of us would have survived."
A chill ran down Raven's spine. She had faced down armies, survived assassination attempts, and outsmarted the best intelligence agencies in the world. But she had never heard Charles speak with such... fear.
"Adapt?" she repeated, her mind racing. "What do you mean, adapt?"
"They learn," Charles said, his eyes distant, as if he were still seeing the battle, still feeling the terror. "They analyze, they adapt, they evolve. They studied our powers, our tactics, our every move. And with each passing moment, they became stronger, more efficient, more deadly."
He then looked at her, his expression pleading for understanding. "They are not mere machines, Raven. They are a plague. A plague designed to eradicate us from the face of the earth. And they are winning."
Raven's mind reeled. The implications were staggering. A foe that could learn, that could adapt, that could grow stronger with each battle. It was a nightmare scenario, a threat that defied conventional warfare, a challenge that even the X-Men, with all their power and experience, could not overcome.
"So that's why you're here," she said, her voice a low, thoughtful murmur. "You fled. You abandoned the school."
A flash of sharpness passed through Charles's eyes. "You can say many things about me, but I would never abandon my school; it is right here, in the students, the teachers. The building? It isn't the school; only the people matter."
He paused. "We didn't flee; we retreated. We made a strategic decision to preserve our people, to live to fight another day."
Raven studied him, her expression unreadable. She could see the pain in his eyes, the weight of his failure, the burden of his responsibility. And she could see the truth in his words. He had not run away. He had made a choice. A choice that, while painful, was the only one he could make.
"And I made them pay dearly for daring to turn their weapons upon children." The Professor's expression turned dark, a rare display of anger from the man who preached peace and understanding.
"I can't say I am not impressed, but it wasn't enough," Raven said, her own anger simmering beneath the surface. "So now what? You're here. In Utopia. Under Erik's protection. What's your plan, Charles? Are you going to hide here until the war is over? Until Erik wins it for you?"
Charles flinched at her words, a sharp, stinging accusation that hit close to home. "I do not know," he admitted, his honesty a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor. "I came here because it was the only place I could think of. The only place where my people, my family, would be safe."
Indeed, it hadn't been an easy decision to come here, because it meant admitting that Erik was right and that his dream had failed.
Still, it was also the best place to go, because the entire world was under attack, with only Albion still untouched.
Anywhere else, there was a risk of the wounded and weakened mutants running into more Sentinels, more attacks.
He feared that after coming here, many wouldn't follow him again in the future; after all, he knew best how powerful Erik's charisma was.
And in these trying times, a safe place was more important than ever, not to mention that the school... it wouldn't be easy to rebuild, not this time.
"Well, you are indeed all safe here, but let's get you all inside somewhere while the wounded are taken for treatment," Raven said, her tone softening slightly, a flicker of empathy in her eyes. "We can discuss the specifics later, after you've had a chance to rest, to recover. For now, let's get you settled."
She then turned to the crowd of Utopians, her voice taking on a commanding tone. "You heard me! Let's get these people inside! Find them beds, food, water! We have guests, and we will treat them with the respect and hospitality they deserve!"
The Utopians, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of fear and curiosity, sprang into action. They were a community, a family, and they would not let their fellow mutants suffer. They rushed forward, helping the wounded, comforting the scared, offering whatever support they could.
Charles watched as his people, his family, were welcomed into the heart of Utopia, a wave of relief washing over him. They were safe. For now, at least, they were safe.
(End of chapter)
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