Issue #127 Terror Sell



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Issue #127


Terror Sell

________________________________________________________________________


It is a time of fear and uncertainty. Professor Charles Xavier and the X-men are in the midst of a new conflict. From the destruction of the Legacy Virus, a new enemy has emerged. They call themselves the Mutant Liberation Front. Their intent is unknown, but they have made their presence felt.
Led by Toad, who recently underwent a mysterious transformation, the Mutant Liberation Front unleashed a series of terroist attacks all over the world. These attacks are unusual in that civilian casualties have been kept low for reasons that aren’t yet clear. For the moment, the attacks are meant to cripple the infrastructure and economy of the modern world. They’ve hit shipping lanes, power stations, and major utilities. It has caused widespread chaos from Genosha to the United States.
As a result, the X-men have focused all their efforts on the Mutant Liberation Front. The team is still in a beleaguered state, enduring personal issues stemming from the Legacy Virus. To make matters worse, Charles Xavier has been keeping secrets about his health again. Since he over-exerted himself to stop the Legacy Virus, he’s been experiencing powerful headaches. He’s been taking medications to manage it, but the effects have only gone so far. It is only a matter of time before they catch up to him.

________________________________________________________________________


Xavier Institute – Cerebrum
So much psychic clutter…like trying to wade through a foggy swamp. There must be a psychic dampening field of sorts. If I’m to break through, I must…’

Professor Xavier let out a sharp groan as he exerted himself a bit too hard. He had to abruptly stop his psychic scan and take off the helmet. His headaches were getting worse. It felt as though parts of his brain were on fire. He instinctively reached for a bottle of pills that he kept on his person at all times. Despite having taken an ill-advised dose earlier, he took another to stem the pain. It was the only way he could keep functioning.

“Damn these pills!” he muttered, “They’re challenging me as much as Toad.”
While he caught his breath, the doors to Cerebrum opened. The Professor quickly hid his pills as Scott and Hank approached him. They had just come from the Danger Room. They seemed as restless as him, but in a far more reasonable capacity.
“I specifically recall you promising to take a break, Charles,” said a somewhat irritated Hank McCoy.
“I actually recall two promises,” said Scott, “I was hoping at least one was serious.”
“I hope you don’t intend to stage an intervention,” said the Professor, “I’m making progress. Cerebrum has been picking up traces of mutant activity on an isolated island in the pacific. The Mutant Liberation Front hide themselves well, but they can’t evade Cerebrum forever.”
“By that same line of reasoning, you can’t evade the side-effects of using Cerebrum for four hours straight. Or did the damage you sustained during the Legacy Virus not make that evident enough?” retorted Hank.
The Professor’s memory of his limits was as clear as Hank’s. The strain his put on himself during that affair was part of why he was hooked on these powerful pain-killers. He was pushing his luck by doing it again. His students hadn’t forgotten how he lied about his health before. They weren’t going to overlook it again.
“We all share your concern, Professor. We want to find the Mutant Liberation Front as well,” said Cyclops, “I still owe Toad a few optic blasts after the bruises he left during our last encounter.”
“Moreover, the team has been training hard,” added Hank, “Cyclops and I have limited classes so we can conduct more Danger Room scenarios. I’ve been amassing reports from every attack thus far and I’ve put together a series of simulations. I’ve even managed to identify a few of the mutants who have joined them.”

“In other words, try and have some faith in the X-men, sir. We’re ready for this!” said Scott strongly, “We’ve taken on the Brotherhood, the Shi’ar, and Sinister. We can take on the Mutant Liberation Front as well.”

Xavier sensed what Hank and Scott were trying to do. They were reminding him that he didn’t need to shoulder the entire burden. The X-men were strong. The Legacy Virus hadn’t left them incapable of doing their duties. Losing a former student in John Proudstar made him more anxious about the X-men’s mortality.
“I still believe in my X-men. That is never in doubt,” said Xavier, “This new threat just feels so…different. I’m sure you heard the reports from earlier this week. The Mutant Liberation Front started attacking financial centers in Europe and Asia. They also managed to severely damage the Strategic Petroleum Reserve here in America.”
“We’ve been watching the news in between training, sir. We know their exploits,” assured Scott, “We’ve even sent a few out into the field to help. Although I worry that some are using it as an excuse to take a break.”
“While I can’t blame them, we don’t have the luxury of breaks,” said Xavier as he turned back towards Cerebrum, “We need to find the Mutant Liberation Front! With each successful attack, our leeway with President Kelly and General Grimshaw wanes!”
“All the more reason to give your mind a rest,” said Hank, grabbing his mentor’s wheelchair before he could reach the console, “There are other ways to follow up leads besides Cerebrum. Tessa and I have been picking up on some interesting energy readings from the attack sights. Perhaps you could help us look into it further?”
“I could lead a study period for the rest of the team since Miss Munroe is still out in the field,” offered Scott, “I’ll put on a clown suit if it will keep you away from Cerebrum for at least twenty minutes.”

Professor Xavier managed a slight smile at his student’s remark. Perhaps he would be wise to heed some alternatives. He relied so much on his psychic abilities. That seemed like his only strength at times due to his physical limitations. His mind could certainly use a breather. He would only be aiding the Mutant Liberation Front if he pushed himself too far.

“Very well. I’ll help you look into these energy readings, Hank. It may be more productive than Cerebrum at this point,” said the Professor as he set aside the helmet.
“Excellent. Now I can tell Jean we don’t need her to telekinetically drag you out of here,” grinned Hank.
“I’ll keep the clown suit handy just in case,” added Scott.
“But all kidding aside, we can’t afford to rest on our laurels,” said the Professor in a more serious tone, “The Mutant Liberation Front has already upset our fragile partnership with the MSA. We must remind them that the X-men can still be trusted to do the right thing.”
“Therein lies the problem, Charles,” sighed Hank, “It’s because we’ve demonstrated how well we can use our mutant abilities that it’s so easy to forget we’re still human.”
In that sense it seemed like a no-win situation. The MSA, the president, and the world at large were depending on the X-men. They always had to prove their humanity. Even after all the lives they had saved and all the good they had done, they were never going to gain everyone’s trust.
It was an especially daunting notion for Charles Xavier. Having to hide his health problems from the rest of the X-men was a constant reminder of his human limitations. As he wheeled out of the Cerebrum chamber with Hank and Scott, he looked back towards the main console. He found himself cringing a bit, his head still pounding from the incessant pain. If only everyone could receive such constant reminders of their limits. It would be much more difficult to for anyone to be so complacent.

________________________________________________________________________


Worthington Industries – New Hampshire Medical Lab

Over a billion dollars in trust funds, full access to one of the world’s largest industrial conglomerates, and mutant powers that give me the gift of flight…yet somehow I find a way to make it all worthless. It’s like I look for ways to make life difficult. It must be pretty damning when I can’t even live up to my own challenges.’

Warren Worthington III was used to being conflicted. He once had to choose between his wings and the woman he loved. His whole life, privileged it may be, was defined by conflict. As strenuous as all these hardships had been, he never felt truly vulnerable. He could always rely on his physical gifts to get him through. Now even his strength was in question. In all his time as a mutant and an X-man, he never felt so weak.
“They’re falling off again,” he said distantly, looking down at the floor where some of his feathers had gathered.
“That’s to be expected, Mr. Worthington. The damage done by that techno-organic compound you ingested was quite extensive,” said one of his well-paid personal doctors.
“I thought these treatments were supposed to repair that damage,” argued the winged mutant.
“This isn’t the kind of damage that can be fixed with duct tape and pills. Your body sustained damage at the cellular level. Your X-gene was particularly damaged. Without these treatments your wings may be giant tumors by now.”
“Don’t even joke about that, doc. You’re not being paid to give me the worst case scenario. If you can’t find a way to make these treatments work better, then don’t say another word.”
The doctor fell silent. That implied a very grim prognosis. Warren kept holding his head low, saying little else to the doctor or nurse. They were administering a series of advanced treatments through an IV tube that was going into his arm and wings. It was the kind of treatment that the average person didn’t have access to. It was also the kind of treatment that left him feeling like he had a mild flu.

He shouldn’t be here trying hard not to throw up. He should be back at the Worthington Industries Corporate office in New York City, using his family’s vast resources to repair the damage done to the power grid. There were so many ways he could be utilizing his family company to combat these recent terrorist attacks. He knew the X-men were in a tough spot, being pressured to stop this madness. He was usually in a position to help. Now he was a sick weakling. Worst of all, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As the doctor finished the treatments, Warren thought back to the mistake that left him so ill. He was desperate to stop the Legacy Virus as were many others. His army of scientists tried to concoct a cure using the techno-organic material that had done so much damage. Desperation bred bad decisions. He decided to play the role of human guinea pig. His doctors advised against it. As an X-man, he was used to taking such ill-advised risks. He never could have imagined that the side-effects would be so devastating.
“We’re just about done, Mr. Worthington,” said the doctor as he replaced the IV fluid, “Give the treatment an hour to work. By then the nausea should lessen. As always, I must advise against…”
“I know. No flying,” muttered Warren, “You don’t need to remind me doc. I can barely glide at this point. At the rate I’m going, a dodo will have more flight capacity than me.”
The doctor held back from giving any further medical advice. Warren wasn’t in a very friendly mood. His doctor was content to leave with the nurse, offering only a slight look of sympathy. It could have mixed with pity as well. There was no way around it. He was pathetic.
Looking down at himself, it was hard to believe he was once an X-man. The muscular build that was refined from years of Danger Room training had given way to a much frailer frame. He had lost thirty pounds since he doused himself with that failed legacy cure. His wings had atrophied as well. A good chunk of his feathers had fallen off. His wings were so weak that flying was a real challenge. Being grounded was pure torment. It didn’t make him feel weak. It made him feel useless. The world was under siege from a new mutant threat and he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I see you’ve settled into your post-treatment sulking,” came a familiar voice, “Does this mean I should put on a slutty nurse uniform again? Or has that stopped working along with your self-confidence?”

Warren looked up to see Betsy Braddock standing in the door where the doctor had just exited. She had that critical look on her face again. It was a look he had grown to hate. If he hadn’t grown so fond of Betsy’s company, he would have told her to leave.

“Betsy? I…I thought you were in New York helping with the blackouts,” said the winged mutant, trying to show some composure under her gaze.
“The situation has stabilized,” said Betsy as she approached the sickly mutant, “Your father went to great lengths to get the power grid going with Worthington hardware. I heard somewhere that it may earn him another commendation from the mayor.”
“Are you telling me this to make me feel even sicker?”
“Why would I need to do that? You’ve been making yourself sick enough with this attitude of yours. Far as I’m concerned, you’re doing more damage to yourself than the Mutant Liberation Front has done with any of their attacks. Since X-men go where help is most needed, I decided to have Storm drop me off here on her way to Boston.”
Warren held his head again, trying to avoid Betsy’s glare. She eased her hostile demeanor as she sat down next to him on the examining table. She offered a small gesture of comfort. Warren accepted it, but not without hesitation.
This wasn’t the first time Betsy paid him a visit like this. They took a healthy interest in one another after they hooked up briefly during a girls night out. It was interest of the most basic kind. He was an attractive rich man. She was a cute Asian woman with a British accent. Then the Legacy Virus happened and that interest turned to something very different. It was something Warren was too sick and distraught to make sense of.
“Why do you keep doing this, Betsy? Going out of your way to watch me pay for a stupid decision I made?” he muttered.
“Do you think I’m that shallow?” retorted Betsy, “We did more than have a fling at a club and share a few cocktails. I am capable of feeling something slightly deeper for another human being.”

“If that something is affection, you have a strange way of showing it. I feel like you come here just to belittle me while I suffer.”

“I’m not the only one. Everyone back at the mansion is worried about you,” said Betsy in a more serious tone, “After they heard what you did to yourself with that techno-organic sludge, I’d say they have a right to.”
“At least they have the decency to leave me alone when I ask them,” he muttered.
“Well I’m a bit more stubborn. When I care about someone, I push a little harder. I get that you made a mistake. I get that it was a pretty dumb mistake. You feel like you have to beat yourself up over it and for what? Don’t say you deserve it because I’ve explained to you on several occasions why that’s bullshit.”
“Since when do I need a reason to be upset with myself? Especially after all the time I spent in the X-men learning to separate smart from stupid?”
“You may be rich, handsome, and powerful, but you’re still human,” said Betsy, giving his hand a firm squeeze to emphasize her point, “You made a mistake. You’re paying the price. You can’t fly like you used to. You can’t eat those fancy catered meals like you used to. You can’t fall back on a career as a male underwear model with your current frame either.”
“Thanks for reminding me. Coming from someone who runs around in skin-tight outfits, that’s very uplifting,” said Warren dryly.
“Even without all that, you’re still Angel,” she said while gently stroking the depleted feathers on his wing, “You can still be the man you were before. It’ll just be a lot harder. I’m pretty fond of that man and I know from his twisted thoughts that he’s pretty fond of me. That’s more than enough reasons to be here as far as I’m concerned.”

Warren fell silent, still looking down at his hands. Betsy’s warm touch was not lost on him. It showed that she cared even though he wasn’t that dashingly handsome rich man she met at a club one night. She must have really seen something in him. Being psychic probably helped. Jean once told him that some people aren’t aware of their own thoughts sometimes. All this self-loathing made it difficult to keep up with himself.

Betsy offered a light smile through the silence. Warren finally turned to look her in the eye. Even though he looked sickly, he still had that angelic gaze that she found so captivating. No one else was going to support him during this difficult time. It was appropriate that she was here for him.
“So I guess this means there’s no throwing you out,” said Warren with a slight grin.
“I’m a psychic woman in a ninja’s body. Good luck trying, luv,” she quipped.
“Then my only choice is to hope you stick around until the medication wears off. I could use some help rehabbing. Even if I can’t fly, I need to be in shape so I can keep up with my duties here.”
“Well I was supposed to meet up with Miss Munroe later, but if she’s caught up with James Proudstar I’m sure she’ll forget all about it.”
“You mean Warpath? What’s that about?” he asked curiously.
“I’d rather not get into it. Especially while you’re doped up,” said Betsy playfully, “For now, I’m going to find a way to distract you from your misery even if it means telling you another crazy story from my modeling days back in Britain.”
“I’m sure no amount of medication will make that any less entertaining.”
Warren smiled again, already feeling a bit better. Despite feeling dazed from the treatment, he settled in with Betsy for what he hoped would be a reprieve from his suffering. He couldn’t afford to stay this weak. With the Mutant Liberation Front causing so much trouble, the X-men had little time for a vacation of any kind.

________________________________________________________________________


Unknown
“This is so cool!” said Kitty Pryde gleefully.
“Da, I couldn’t agree more, Katya,” said Piotr, smiling as he draped his powerful arm around his girlfriend.
“Just you and me, alone at night in Paris,” she said in a deeper tone, “It’s perfect!”

It was a beautiful setting. Kitty and Piotr were sitting on a rooftop under a crystal clear sky in downtown Paris. She was wearing a dress worthy of royalty. Piotr was wearing a suit that made him look like a perfect gentleman. Next to them was a small table of champagne and chocolate. It was served up on fancy plates that shimmered under the starry setting. In the distance was the Eiffel Tower, all lit up and shining brilliantly through the night. The air was crisp and cool. Gentle breezes swept across the roof as if to urge them to cuddle closer.

Kitty couldn’t stop smiling. This was so perfect. She and Piotr had grown quite serious since the Legacy Virus. It hadn’t been easy, opening up to one another. There were still parts of his past that were difficult to get around. She was still learning how to be this close to another person. Despite all this, being in his arms like this made her feel so warm and safe. It made all her problems melt away.
“Want to get another bottle of wine before the fireworks start?” she offered.
“Nyet, I am too comfortable to get up right now,” said Piotr.
“Who says you need to get up? Oh waiter!” she called out.
Out of the shadows, a fully dressed French waiter seemed to appear out of nowhere. He approached them with a small tray that had two half-full glasses of wine. Piotr was taken aback somewhat, but didn’t refuse the offer.
“That is a new trick. How are you learning this so quickly, Katya?” he said as they each took the glass.
“It’s not a level nine scenario in the Danger Room, Peter. It just takes some extra imagination,” she said wryly as she swirled the wine.
“That seems appropriate. What else do you plan to do with this imagination of yours?”
“Finish your glass and you’ll find out!”
Kitty gulped down the wine quickly, not taking too long to savor it. Before Piotr even finished his, she pulled him into a powerful kiss. He almost dropped the glass, but managed to hold on even as Kitty latched onto his muscular form. Her gestures were heated. The way she clung to him was full of desire. With his powerful arms, he held onto her hips and returned the feeling.

Under the beautiful Paris night they made out. While their lips were locked, fireworks started going off around the Eiffel Tower. It bathed the rooftop in a perfect glow. It was so perfect that Kitty couldn’t contain herself. She kissed harder, gasping desperately as their lips wrestled. Then when it seemed as though their emotions would completely consume them, an unexpected voice took them out of the moment.

Okay, I think this is getting too PG-13.’
“What?!” exclaimed Kitty, abruptly parting from the kiss, “Wait! Don’t even think about…”
But it was too late. This perfect moment faded into darkness.

________________________________________________________________________


Xavier Institute – Classroom
In a painful dose of reality, Kitty and Piotr found themselves in less serene settings. They were no longer in Paris, enjoying a romantic moment together. They were back at the Xavier Institute, sitting at their desks. Between them was Jean Grey, who had a bemused look on her face. It left Kitty pretty disgruntled.
“Seriously Jean? You couldn’t have held out just a little bit longer?” Kitty complained.
“It had nothing to do with my psychic limits, Kitty,” said Jean, folding her arms in dismay, “I told you the rules ahead of time and retold them just to make sure we were clear. You still didn’t listen. You just couldn’t resist pushing it.”
“And you just can’t afford any leeway, can you?” scoffed Kitty, “I swear, dating Scott has made you just as stiff!”
“Calm down, Katya,” coaxed Piotr with a light gesture towards his girlfriend, “Jean is the telepath here. She was generous enough to take us on this brief vacation. We should be generous enough to abide by her rules.”
“Doesn’t mean those rules are fair,” she scoffed, “I bet you’ve let others go much further than PG-13. You’ve probably let them go completely unrated.”
“If you want someone who is comfortable experiencing other peoples’ lurid thoughts, go talk to Emma Frost,” said Jean, “Although I warn you that her telepathic trips tend to get very graphic.”

Kitty continued to fume. It was easy to lose her cool when tensions were so high throughout the team. It was one of the reasons why Jean did stuff like this every now and then. Since they couldn’t take a real vacation, she used her telepathy to create vivid psychic trips as she called them. It was a trick Charles Xavier used to use as therapy for war victims. It also was a great way to escape the toils of being an X-man stuck on call.

Since their meeting with General Grimshaw at the Pentagon, their entire focus was on the Mutant Liberation Front. The Professor was a lot more tense than usual. He limited classes and emphasized training, so much so that he had to be reminded this was still a school. There had been tough times before, but not like this. After the Legacy Virus, the Professor didn’t want them falling behind. They couldn’t afford another catastrophic loss. They also couldn’t afford to lose any leeway with their so-called partners at the MSA.
All this was lost on Kitty, whose concerns were less about crisis and more about simpler matters. As much as she loved being an X-man, there were times when she just wanted to go out with her boyfriend and enjoy being a teenager. That feeling of normalcy was something everybody was missing lately.
“Would it help if I said you can make it to second base next time?” asked Jean, trying to coax Kitty out of her disgruntled state.
“Yeah right,” she scoffed, “Your definition of second base probably involves showing too much neck.”
“Katya…” groaned Piotr, growing frustrated with his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, but I’m as confused as I am stressed,” she said, sinking into her seat, “Remind me again why we’re sitting in a classroom? Miss Munroe is in Boston helping with the blackout. Mr. McCoy is helping the Professor track the MSA. Scott’s probably configuring a new Danger Room scenario that involves chasing Toad through an active volcano.”
“I’m pretty sure he scrapped that idea, Kitty. If not he’ll have to if he ever wants to see me naked again,” said Jean.
“I still liked it better when he was obsessed with finding his long lost brother.”
“Now that’s too much, Katya. And you know it,” said Piotr with a touch of scorn.

“I know! It’s a terrible thing to say! I say stupid things when I’m stressed,” said Kitty, now hunched over her desk, “If only we could be as comfortable as Bobby during times like this.”

Kitty, Piotr, and Jean shifted their gaze across the room. Despite their argument, Bobby Drake remained fast asleep. He was slouched in his seat, drooling slightly as he snored lazily in a dazed slumber. He was probably the least stressed among the X-men. That or he was simply more tired.
“Hnn…ice cream,” mumbled Bobby as he shifted in his slumber.
“What I wouldn’t give to sleep that soundly in the middle of class,” sighed Kitty.
“We can all envy Bobby’s dreams of desert and Swedish underwear models on some levels, Kitty. That doesn’t mean we should adopt a fatalistic mindset,” said Jean.
“It’s not fatalistic. If anything, it’s ironic,” sighed Kitty, “It used to be that we were students first and then X-men. Since the Legacy Virus, the Professor has covertly changed that policy. I’m starting to wonder if he remembers that some of us still have grades to worry about.”
“He’s concerned about the Mutant Liberation Front. We all are, Katya,” said Piotr, “I do not wish to be caught off guard again like we were with Sinister.”
“Neither do I, but there’s just something about the way he’s handling this that seems…I don’t know. Very un-Xavierish.”
It sounded like more fatalism, but there was a bit of truth in her assessment. Jean tensed at the notion, questioning the Professor’s focus on this issue. He always remained strong and level-headed. Having known the Professor for so long, it was hard to miss when something in him changed. Lately, there were too many signs for anybody to ignore.
“You’re psychic, Jean. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed it,” said Kitty.
“Should we really argue about this right now?” asked Jean, “We’re wasting what little time we have to catch up on class.”
“I say this is more important than any upcoming calculus exam,” she quipped.
“I say you are not doing yourself any favors by needlessly worrying, Katya,” said Piotr.

“Why is it needless? It’s not like Professor Xavier is a saint or anything. He’s lied to us before. Or have you forgotten about the whole cancer ordeal?”

“That was an extreme circumstance,” Piotr pointed out.
“And this isn’t?”
“Not yet, it isn’t,” said Jean, “I don’t have my head in the clouds, Kitty. I’ve noticed everything you’ve noticed.”
“Then you should know way more than I do and be a lot more pissed off,” said Kitty.
“He’s the world’s most powerful psychic, Kitty. Even with the Phoenix Force, I can’t uncover all his secrets. I don’t even want to uncover them. I admit the cancer thing was pretty jarring. But contrary to our lofty notions, Charles Xavier is human. He’s capable of making mistakes and we all forgave him in the end.”
“So what’s to stop him from making another mistake? One that’ll be much harder to forgive?” questioned Kitty.
“He taught us to be better than that. I like to think we’ve taken those lessons to heart. It’s part of what makes the X-men strong. Even if Charles Xavier falls into the trap of human error, I have to believe he takes those lessons just as seriously. We’ve trusted him through a crisis like this and in almost every case, that trust has been well-placed.”
Kitty remained unconvinced. She was never one to overlook something like this. Being so overly blunt at times meant having a low tolerance for inconsistencies. She could hear in Jean’s tone that she had doubts as well, but she was willing to give the Professor the benefit of the doubt. Everyone in the X-men probably shared that sentiment. It would be nice if she could share it as well.
“If you’re really concerned, perhaps you should confront the Professor,” offered Piotr.
“I don’t know, Petey. I want to trust the Professor in everything he does. There’s just something about him that’s been bugging me lately,” groaned Kitty as she sat hunched over her desk.

“Well once we find and beat the Mutant Liberation Front and beat the bejesus, we can get back to focusing on the little things,” said Jean, still trying to sound optimistic.

“I hope you’re right, Jean. Because if he’s keeping secrets again, I’ll be inclined to stand up and say Professor Xavier is a…”
Before Kitty could finish, the door to the classroom burst open and Logan stormed in. He was so loud in his entrance that he woke Bobby up from his deep slumber.
“Huh? What…” he began, knocking over some of his books as he woke up.
“Recess is over, bub! Suit up and meet in the hanger in five minutes!” barked Logan, “Chuck and Hank just got a break on Toad and his goons!”
“So soon?” said Jean, shooting up from her desk, “I thought the Professor said he was stuck with Cerebrum.”
“He didn’t need Cerebrum! These punks ain’t as subtle as we thought! They’re making their move and they don’t give a damn who finds out!”
“That can’t be a good sign,” said Kitty anxiously.
“All the more reason to get off your ass and get it into a uniform!” said Logan firmly, “I’d like to be rid of these dirt-bags so Chuck can stop acting so damn paranoid!”
“I’ll settle for putting Toad on ice again,” said Bobby, quickly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “If he really is behind this mess, we need to remind him he’s no Magneto!”

The debate of Professor Xavier’s mindset was tabled for the moment. Kitty, Piotr, Jean, and Bobby rushed out of the room with Logan, anxious to take down the Mutant Liberation Front. It was not lost on them that Logan mentioned the Professor’s mentality as well. He could have just been exaggerating as he so often did. Whatever the case, they would have plenty of time to figure it out once this was over.

________________________________________________________________________




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