Professor Charles lay back in his wheelchair, eyes half-lidded, gazing at the specks of light piercing through the pinhole leaks in the water tower’s shell.
A fleeting sense of deja vu washed over him, but he couldn’t quite grasp where he had seen it before.
He didn’t actually want to sleep.
Logan had administered his injection not long ago, so this was a rare moment of clarity for him.
Still, he lacked the energy to open his eyes all the way.
He was old now, his powers far diminished, and suffering from Alzheimer’s.
For him in his present state, living itself was perhaps a form of torment.
*Screeech…*
The sound of the door being pushed slowly open drew Charles’s attention.
He tilted his head slightly, turning his gaze toward the two young visitors.
“Hello, little one…” the Professor murmured with a soft chuckle, before turning his eyes to Miles beside her.
His gaze froze.
“Oh…
my God…”
As the world’s most powerful telepath, Charles had actually sensed Laura’s existence long ago.
He had even mentioned to Logan that a woman with a little girl was seeking help everywhere, though Logan hadn’t paid it any mind.
Miles’s presence, however, had eluded his perception entirely.
“…Even subconsciously, you instinctively use telepathy to shield yourself…
Turning self-preservation into second nature…” Charles’s eyes flickered, and he muttered under his breath, “Child, you must have suffered terribly…”
“Heh…
heh…”
Faced with Professor Charles’s scrutiny, Miles stared back blankly, still trapped in a vacant, slack-jawed state.
Laura wiped the drool from Miles’s chin, then gave Charles a wary look.
Following Miles’s directions, she had traced Logan’s scent to this place, but she had no idea who the old man in front of her was.
“So much alike…” Charles murmured as his eyes lingered on Laura and Miles.
Then he smiled warm-heartedly and asked Laura, “What is your name, child?”
Laura said nothing.
She disliked speaking in the first place, let alone in front of strangers.
“Another troubled student…” Professor Charles wasn’t bothered by her silence at all.
In fact, he felt a spark of affection, as Laura reminded him of those past days at the Institute, when most of his time was spent dealing with all sorts of troubled teens.
“Don’t be afraid, child.
I’m Charles.
As you can see, I’m just an old fossil who can barely sit up…”
“Where did you come from?
Did you take a train—a big, rumbling one?”
“Your clothes are lovely.
Are they new?”
Professor Charles was in no hurry, gently encouraging her to open up.
As a telepath, he could easily intrude upon another’s mind to glean whatever memories he wanted.
But he was far too old now, and reading minds took a toll.
More importantly, he didn’t believe in treating these two children with such coarse intrusion.
The process of communication between teacher and student was important in itself.
Sensing his goodwill, Laura paused to think before speaking in a low voice.
“Laura.”
Then, pointing to Miles beside her, she added, “Miles.”
“All right, Laura and Miles…” Charles said softly.
“I recall there was a woman with you…”
“Dead.”
“…I’m sorry.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over them.
Charles considered what to say next, but then heard commotion outside.
Logan was back, but he wasn’t alone—an unexpected, uninvited guest had accompanied him.
Laura’s expression shifted, and she stood up to walk out.
She could sense it: the ones who had killed Gabriela.
“Laura?” Charles called out.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Laura, wait!”
Laura didn’t pause.
Just then, another voice rang out.
“Laura…
push me out there with you…”
Laura froze in surprise, turning alongside Charles to look at Miles, whose eyes had regained clarity.
“Fuck, I remember now.
In this installment, Professor Charles has hair, so he’s useless now…
Tsk.” Miles muttered to himself, then looked at the astonished Professor.
“Nice to meet you, Professor…
but sorry, I’m off to do something bad.
Laura, let’s go!”
Laura silently began pushing Miles’s wheelchair.
“Acquired brain injury causing stupor, combined with complex stress disorder…”
Professor Charles muttered to himself.
…
“Listen, Laura.
Those two men over there—one has an iron hand, and the other has iron bones…
I’m going to kill the one with the iron hand, because he’s the one who killed Gabriela.
We’re just getting revenge, perfectly justified, right?”
“I can’t pull it off alone, though.
That guy’s willpower is pretty strong.
I failed last time, and he’s been on higher alert ever since…”
“Now is a good opportunity.
I’ll paralyze him, and you take the chance to slash his head off…
Simple enough, just like slicing anyone else’s head…”
“By the way, what was his name again?
Pietro?
Pierce?
Technically, he’s supposed to die at the end of the plot…
But fuck it!
To hell with the plot!
I’m killing someone today!”
Pushed in his wheelchair by Laura, Miles slowly approached from the other side of the water tower toward the two men confronting each other near the entrance.
He then slowly raised a finger and pressed it against his temple.
Outside the water tower, beside the car.
“See that?
You’re not the only one who got modified…”
Donald extended his cybernetic arm, chuckling darkly as he threatened Logan.
He was about to say more when sputtering blue sparks burst from the intricately constructed prosthetic.
Immediately after, his expression shifted sharply.
His neck creaked like rusted iron as he stiffly jerked his head around.
“Aagh!!”
In the next second, all he saw was a little girl screaming as she lunged forward with razor-sharp claws unsheathed, slicing across his throat.
*Thwack.*
His head hit the dirt, rolled a few times, and came to a stop.
Logan stood frozen, staring blankly at the scene, his eyes locked onto Laura’s claws as they slowly retracted.
“Felt so light…” Miles released his temple, muttering weakly, “Shit, that bastard got off easy…
Getting your throat slit feels way better than a bullet to the head.
Barely felt a thing…”
When a mind controller takes over someone else, any injury inflicted on the host is felt vicariously by the controller.
In other words, in that exact moment, Miles had experienced the pain of having his own throat severed.
Yet he didn’t care.
Compared to what he had endured in the laboratory, this level of pain was practically nothing.
He even had the leisure to evaluate which method of dying was more thrilling.
“Logan!
Logan!”
Professor Charles rolled up rapidly in his wheelchair and introduced her to Logan.
“This is Laura…”
Then Charles’s gaze fell upon the severed head lying on the ground.
Taken aback, he turned to Laura.
“Child…
did you kill him?”
Laura watched Charles silently, offering no response.
“It was mind control,” Logan said, glaring at Miles nearby.
“Charles, these two brats—one has claws like mine, and the other has powers like yours…
Fuck, what kind of bullshit family reunion show is this?”
Old as Logan was, a warrior’s instincts remained sharp.
A quick reflection told him Donald’s erratic behavior right before his death was definitely due to Miles’s telepathic control.
As for how he knew…
he had seen this combination far too many times.
He and Charles used to team up in the exact same manner—one provided the brainpower, the other provided the muscle.
The only difference was that Charles rarely permitted him to outright execute people.
As the former leader of the mutant moderate faction, Professor Charles was a gentle soul, constantly striving for a peaceful resolution between mutants and humans…
Of course, that was in the past.
“When things settle down, I want to talk to you, Miles…” Charles said to the boy, before turning with an unruffled expression to call out, “Caliban, come over quickly!
These two are the ones I kept telling you about…
Laura and Miles.”