An unavoidable destiny

[Gildarts]

Charles heard the unmistakable voice as though it haunted him from his past. Eric, from all those days ago. He expected today would come, call it a fated "destiny," or a hopeful guess. The optimistic Charles took but a moment to breathe.

It all felt a world away, now that so much time had passed and fresh memories had been engraved to his mind. The mutant's experience in the Omniverse did little to widen the nostalgic distance between he and the man he spoke with, albeit through a normal human's mouth.

The urgency collided with the telepathic's thoughts with the vivid slam of an oncoming train. It wasn't irrational to assume that Magneto could have been swiped from any time of his not-so-humbled past. Even his most vulnerable time. The Professor made haste, and quickly, his response to the situation was made swift as its purpose had escalated in priority. Not only did he confirm he was speaking to Magneto, but there had been a death – no, a murder – and the morality driven Charles needed to prevent any more spilling of blood.

Malice coated Magneto's presence, it emanated even from the great land sprawling between them. Xavier followed this strong emotion as he set forth his best plan of action and readied the fastest transportation he could get his hands on. His mind however, stayed in that very room with his old friend, as the mutant grew near, the 'connection' much like that of a telephone, became much more clear. The blurring around the edges of his sight cleared, the static Xavier heard in the citizen's ears cleared, and Magneto's powerful presence was thick, tainting the air with the heavy shackles of a static charge.

Xavier drew closer, but it seemed too late.

Eric's words of instigation stung in the citizen's mind like daggers. Primes always think they are better than us secondaries. I'll prove this one wrong. It's always the crazy ones that need a good beatin' and I'll be the man for the job. One of plebeians thought as he raised a fist and snarled at the confidently caped man. "Jus' who the hell do you think you are buddy? No Prime goes around murdering kids in my town!"

As the slow stupor of the man dwindled, Eric eyed him with slight irrelevance as the buckle around his belt slowly tightened and the sharp zipper along his shirt slowly coiled up toward his neck. The man responded fearfully, as he tried to shake off whatever unseeable presence had threatened the state of his attire.

"That is enough!"

A voice boomed in everyone's head. The humans of the room froze as though God's wrath was upon them. The one with the too-tight belt had been paused with his pallid knuckles inches from the freak's skull. It was obvious a higher-power was controlling him now, for his hand shook without the man's control and rattled as though it wanted to be free to plunge forth and land a decisive blow on the mutant's skull. Brown eyes bulged with strain as veins popped hot from his face. First his belt, then his zipper, now his fist. Utter insanity. And the secondary's hatred for the Prime only grew greater than the room could withstand. He spat his hatred to the floor, for it seemed it was the only thing he was able to do.

Behind the aggressor, a familiar face wheeled at half the height of the feisty human but certainly not less superior in power. The Professor's neutral gaze was as nonchalant as his entrance. And tires slowly spun over the soft lines of well-worn wood.