It does sound mad, to be sure, but the implication of what this man says is realistic enough; if there is to be another version of the Charles he has come to know and care for, it stands to reason there would be another of himself as well. He has not always done right by others, nor had the sturdiest of moral compasses, but he cannot imagine what this other Erik - this other Max - must be like to have fallen in line with a Charles who is so clearly and so radically contrary to the one he had come to know all those years ago.Â
It doesnât occur to him, somehow, that they may not have ended up with the same sort of (sometimes painfully and precariously strained) bonds. Perhaps, wherever this Xavier comes from, their positions had been switched. As they stand here, Erik eyeing him sideways with suspicion and some other, more drastic instinct that sends his pulse racing and his senses at the ready for fight or flight, this Charles says plenty that Erik can recall saying himself, if not using identical words and phrasing.Â
Once, those had been his only beliefs. But once, those had also been his only options.Â
âYou look like youâre doing just fine.â Altered mindset or no, he wouldnât have risen high enough to call himself President if not for having control over his ability rather than cowering from it and allowing it to overwhelm him. What Erik doesnât ask is whether that same power had found casualties of its own in other mutants. Something tells him he does not want to know.Â
The man had spoken casually enough, but upon being prompted to open his mind, Erik would swear he already felt the faint phantom tendrils of anotherâs consciousness approach his own, curious, nosy, and brazen enough to take what it wants. Charles does the same, often enough, but he still refuses to think of this being as Charles; alternate version from a different time and place or no. The contact had often times been a source of comfort or even intimacy, provided Charles was not attempting to stop him doing he had his mind and heart set on, but he is surprised by the instinctive desire to shrink back and flinch away from it now. Itâs horrific and unexpected, not unlike stroking a kitten only to pull oneâs hand away and discover it stained with blood.Â
âI do what I MUST to survive.â The ambiguous response came almost automatically, unwilling to give away anything that might deter the powerful mutant before him. OF COURSE, despite the blinding cruelty that ran through the telepathâs vein, despite the loss of SANITY, Charles was still an infinitely smart man. This, however, wasnât necessarily a good thing.
The President was a manipulative man, he always had been, and not always with the use of his abilities. There was, after all, once a time when this version stood very much like the alternate of this world, heâd TRULY believed in doing what he could for both human and mutantkind, lead them from the growing darkness that was their home. But that man was gone, beaten and PULPED into the depths of madness, leaving only the tyrant that would do anything to see his tainted dreams come to light. ANYTHING.
âThis world needs direction, just as mine did. I did what I could for those in my care, but... there is only so much I can do for souls so DEEPLY LOST.â For a moment, there was a fleeting look of compassion that flashed across his face, a seemingly genuine look of heart felt emotion. This, however, wasnât real, it was a MASK, a mask to cover the sheer joy such suffering brought him. He could still hear the sound of their voices, the mutants in his Texan prison that he would maim and taunt without mercy, each pained cry adding to the creatureâs REPELLENT ego. âI want to keep your world from the darkness that has infected mine. Surely, you MUST understand that?â
Pleading eyes stared at the towering mutant, revealing a gaze that wouldnât look terribly out of place on the likes of a sad puppy. But to those who KNEW this man, it was quite clear that there was barely an ounce of compassion left within him. He had to use this worldâs Charles to his advantage, use his WEAKNESS for caring to gain trust, and if that didnât work, if trust didnât WILLINGLY fall his way, he would TAKE it. âPlease, my friend, I will NOT let another world fall to ruin.â
