He chuckled at her. “You have such spirit,” he said, shaking his head. “Such fire, even when you try to be cold. Don’t, my dear, it doesn’t suit you,” he said, waving a hand in the air. He eyed her carefully, pausing for a long, long moment. “Murder is a terrible thing,” he agreed finally. “It is an act of the utmost violence. And yet, it can be used for good. To protect. To save the innocent. To preserve another life, a more deserving life. But apathy?” He clenched his jaw, and his voice grew low, his cold eyes peering out of the shadows cast by his mask. “Apathy is watching violence, and allowing it to occur. Apathy cannot be used for anything good, it cannot be used at all. It is a state of disuse. Of abandonment. Despair. It has no purpose, but to cleanse those who should take action of responsibility. And that, yes,” he said pointedly. “Is far worse than murder.
Erik took a breath, and then, quite suddenly, the charming smile returned to his face. Unlike her, cold fury suited him just as much as this look of amusement. He could switch so easily between the two, the fires of his rage never truly gone, just simmering beneath the surface. “Well, that quite depends on who you’re asking, doesn’t it? Certainly it was preferable for me, to have one of Charles’ children stop Armageddon. It means I risked no one. Perhaps it was even preferable for Charles, because a girl with spirit like you, fire like you, you almost certainly volunteered for such a dangerous part of the mission, or even more likely, took it on without even asking the others. So he didn’t have to decide, choose which one of you to sacrifice. But if you ask yourself, Miss Pryde?” he questioned, eyebrow arched. “Was it preferable for you? To throw your life away? Was it preferable for those who love you?” He shook his head. “I certainly can’t tell you what to be ashamed about. I am merely asking questions.”
Charles’ weakness ran through her every vein. The arrogance, the temper, and above all, the mercy. The inability to take the shot, to end threats before they could cause harm. And he intended on causing harm tonight, no matter how quickly this girl moved into his path. “You are welcome to try,” he said, clenching his jaw. “But I have fought many battles, and as brave as you are child, I have survived far worse than you. I am in something of a hurry though, so if you wish to attempt, please hurry,” he said, voice clipped. He stopped, sighed heavily. “It is the title I chose. It is also a title my people have chosen to embrace, the illustrious X-Men notwithstanding, of course. You are in my way, Miss Pryde, and I’ve just told you that I don’t want to hurt you. Please, don’t make me.”
The Professor and Magneto had always been similar, though it probably wasn’t something either man wanted to hear. They both had this way about them, this ability to hand out compliments in a tone that made you want to hear more. As much as Kitty disliked Magneto, there was something satisfying about receiving any sort of praise from him, and she hated herself a little for that. She ignored the compliment and the ‘suggestion’ that followed it, jaw clenched tightly. “No one life is any more deserving than another,” she replied, anger clear in her tone. Hadn’t she been hearing words similar to those all her life? Her father had been told he didn’t deserve a place in this country, her mother told that she didn’t deserve the right to speak her own language, Kitty herself told that she didn’t deserve an education. When one person decided who ‘deserved’ what, when men like Magneto made people earn their right to live, the world became a darker and more terrible place.
The more he spoke, the more she wanted to punch him. Kitty had always had a short fuse, had always been prone to outbursts. Logan had always spoken of her temper with a fond expression, had said she was like an alley cat when she went off, hissing and sputtering, but Kitty hated it. She hated that men like Erik could get under her skin. “Because it always would’ve been risking someone else for you, wouldn’t it? You say you want to save mutants, want to help us, but when it comes down to it, you’d never make that play yourself. Better somebody else die so you can go on pretending you’re some kind of savior, right?” She didn’t attempt to feign calmness. It wouldn’t have fooled him anyways, not at this point. “Yes. Yes, it was preferable to me. If it happened again tomorrow, I’d do the same thing. I’d do it the next day, and the next day, and the next day, over and over again until it stuck. You’re not going to make me feel ashamed for saving the people I care about. You’re not going to make me feel like I made a mistake by helping people. If that’s honestly something you believe, I feel sorry for you.”
A beat passed, and Kitty realized with a start that she was honestly going to have to do this. She was going to have to take Magneto on on her own, going to have to fight a man who’d probably killed thousands. Would her friends mourn her more or less if she was killed so soon after returning? Would it be more painful to be given the false hope of seeing her alive, or less since they’d all learned to live without her? Kitty honestly wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think she could take the risk of allowing Magneto into the building behind her. She wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of the deaths on her conscience, even if she hadn’t been the one to deliver the killing blow. “You’re good at underestimating people, aren’t you?” Magneto’s weakness had always been his pride, and it became abundantly clear with each word he spoke. “Don’t talk like we’re the only mutant group who doesn’t think of you as some kind of saving grace. There are just as many mutants out there who oppose you as there are that agree with you.” It was mutantkind’s biggest divide, really, the question of Magneto’s teachings. “Oh, don’t worry about hurting me. I can hold my own.”
