Chapter 3: Dreams
University of Winnipeg
Alberta, Canada
Six hours ago
Scott Summers looked on from backstage of the auditorium as Professor Charles Xavier’s rich voice filled the large room. Summers’ ever-attentive ruby lens shielded eyes continued to monitor the large auditorium for any potential threats, but ever so often he’d allow the Professor’s resonant words to pierce his ears. Listening to Xavier speak Scott instantly felt he was transported fifteen years ago into the past. Back then he was simply a pimple-faced youth that had no life and no direction who had just walked through the doors of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Despite all the debates and the liberal treaties that Xavier participated recently, it still seemed like older man’s first home still lied in teaching.
Summers was the head of Xavier’s security team. He was also the leader of the Professor’s personal task force the X-Men, an elite squad of formally trained mutants devised of Xavier’s former students. So when the Professor informed Summers that he had been invited to the college to speak, naturally all sorts of internal alarms set off inside of the young man making him voice his doubts about the many potential dangers that having such a public appearance could bring. But now witnessing his speech and the open and insightful responses from the students, Summers believed the Professor made the right decision.
Here these students, these baseline humans and some mutants in hiding, listened on with open ears and more importantly open minds to the possibilities and ideas that could arrive within the future if mankind just was willing let go of its past insecurities and embrace the opportunity that this era has presented.
“He seems at home out there.” A hushed melodious voice from behind Summers spoke.
An easy grin spread through the young man’s lips as he turned to his friend. An African beauty stood before him, nearly reaching his height. Soft mocha colored skin with looks that could easily rival any dozen of the models that dared to cross a runway, her thick hair was of the purest white that flowed down to her waist, this day wrapped in a simple ponytail but usually she allowed it free reign.
Her eyes the natural color of blue sapphires stared into the crimson lenses of Summers’ glasses as he spoke. “I’d say,” he agreed, that same boyish smile on his face, “You know teaching has always been his first passion. It’s like he never left the school.” At this his friend laughed softly, thoughts of their earlier days at Xavier’s school coming to both of them from his words. She had started at the school a few years after he did, but that still didn’t stop the two of them from becoming fast friends. Scott’s face then turned reflective as another thought came to him,“Speaking of which, Ororo how are things back home?”
Ororo Monroe full lips curled into a lopsided grin as she regarded her friend. ‘Typical Summers, never one without worrying,’ she thought. Although she was the one to talk, she just came back from checking in on the school herself. Since the three of them were in Alberta and Jean was in Washington with Kenneth, they had left Peter in charge back at the school. Granted she had great faith in the young man. His responsible and stoic nature was second only to Scott, but she knew how easily Kitty tended to influence the young man’s favor.
“Well the school has not burned down, flooded or being held in the grips of an explosion,” she informed him easily. To anyone else the comment might have been in jest, but in a school full of adolescent mutants the words were often too close to home. A mischievous grin found its way to her
lips as she added, “Although some of the students most likely will be still cleaning out the Science labs when we return.”
A great sigh exited from Summers’ lips. ‘It was too good to be true,’ he inwardly groaned. “Let me guess,” He began again, his forefingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “…John and Bobby.”
“And Jubilee too it seems,” she supplied, that grin still not leaving her face, “…the ringleader.”
Summers just shook his head; ultimately believing another
ten years had just been added to his life. “Were we ever that bad?” he looked to her, hoping.
Ororo laughed lightly. “From what Charles tells me, we were worlds worst then them,” she informed her friend, not holding back in the slightest.
Surprising enough a soft chuckle rang from him. A bright
smile present on his face, as a few episodes of their unruly misspent young played through his mind.
To outsiders Scott Summers appeared always stoic, even
unyielding, basically your straight-arrow or the proverbial stick in the mud. But to his friends, the people that truly knew him, Scott Summers was all those things because Xavier, the school and the X-Men were his family, essentially everything he held dear. And the young man would do everything he could to keep his family safe.
A peaceful silence continued between the two of them as they observed Xavier’s speech. Periodically, Ororo eyes would stray to Scott’s face, surprised to see the honest smile that crossed his lips. She remembered Scott was a little more than hesitant for the Professor to participate in such an open proceeding, but probably for the first time since they all arrived, something akin to hope was evident on his face.
Her sapphire colored eyes traveled away from her friend and drifted across the auditorium floor glancing over the many young faces that were enthralled by Xavier’s words. It wasn’t the fact everyone was in accordance with what was said; in fact there were many students and instructors
that had some questions, even some objections. But what truly surprised her was the fact, despite not all of Xavier’s words might have pleased everyone, his responses were still measured greatly instead of dismissed immediately. It
seemed people were willing to listen now, which was a feat in itself.
Through the proceedings one of the students stood up from
her seat. Her outbursts were vengeful and filled with outright hatred. But Xavier, instilled with an insurmountable amount of patience from many years of teaching and debating, remained calm and allowed the young woman to voice her opinion.
His eyes then directed to her as a calm aura placed it self
on him. He responded with a simple comment, “If it was your brother, your neighbor, your love one, would your passion be so blinding? Would you be equally quick to subjugate them? …To persecute?” Several moments passed and as the woman reflected on his words. When it looked like she was about to dispute him with another vengeful comment she paused reconsidering. Quietly she
apologized and returned to her seat, her mind still toying on Xavier’s response.
The Professor’s stern face then easily formed a gentle smile while bowing his head in acknowledgment to her, letting all know that he held no malice towards the young woman for her words. He then looked around to the
hundreds of faces as he continued, “It is easy to point reticule against nameless numbers or faces, but when the opposition is someone we know. Someone that is dear to us, the dilemma takes a new personal light. Believe me when I say that what I am suggesting is no mere quick fix or overnight solution, everyone. For anything with any potential to be rewarding must first be hard sought after and relentlessly pursued,” he stated before continuing.
Ororo continued to listen to his words. Although she had
heard his speech the night before and others like it, it still invoked something in her, a drive that renewed her will to continue the fight. This was the final night the three of them would be present at the University. She remembered a few of the University’s student expressed some interest in Xavier’s schools if not for themselves for they’re loved ones.
And then the time seemed to flow by as each eye was held in the grip of the discussion. It slowly dissolved from a formal lecture into an impromptu open forum with students and instructors voicing their honest opinions about the subject. Any confusion was met with patience and honesty. There were no answers that were sugarcoated, for there was no easy solution to be dealt out, only through hard work and understanding would the goal be met. The energy from Xavier’s words seemed contagious, spreading through out the crowd, leaving not a person untouched. And none of the interaction was lost to the two watching the proceedings from backstage.
“Scott…” Ororo’s voice was light and promising as she looked to her long time friend. Hoping he was witnessing the same scene she was.
“I know…” he said passively, not trying to miss a word being
said.
“This is amazing…” she continued.
“I know…” he grinned in earnest to her.
“Charles must be pleased. Its like all of the hard work we’ve been doing these years are finally showing results.” Without word Scott agreed with her.
It was sometimes hard to keep in perspective, through all the years of battle and loss to the madness of day-to-day life, what it was they all were fighting for. But they both realized here it was the beginning. The first tremendous leap towards they’re shared dream.
“I think we’re witnessing it Scott, what Charles was speaking of when we first arrived here.”
“We can only hope…” he returned, as a thunderous applause marked Xavier’s closing.
OoOoOo
Alkali Lake, Canada
An Undisclosed Facility
Many years past
There was a place in Alberta, Canada that officially did not exist.
In this place there were dozens of scientists and doctors that should not have been there.
They were all drawn together to an event that should have not occurred.
In the center of this confusion, in the center of the festivities, in this cold dark pit, it is here where the Wolverine waits.
He could not trust his eyes for they were blinded and mislead. They were fed thousands of false images through the visor strapped to his head.
He could not trust his nose for it was muzzled and distracted. It was fed obnoxious sweet fumes that tried to soothe and sedate his body.
Despite the soothing voice that played along with the subliminal messages that tried to betray his hearing, he still could trust his ears. With them he could still hear it all. The dozen rhythmic clicks of keyboards being pressed, machines and monitors beeping and humming, the murmurs of dialogue being spoken, they were talking about their current subject. They were talking about him.
A horror was about to be committed here and he would be its victim.
He could feel too. His sense of touch was very active. For instance, he could feel the cool liquid that was slowly flowing into his tank. Never ceasing till his whole body was fully submerged. The sub-arctic temperature of the coolant slowly chilled his body. It started as a thousand tiny pinpricks that fell along his spine agitating his nerves. Slowing those nerves responses dulled in their active duty, till finally he was able to feel nothing.
Unfortunately, the sensation would not last long.
It has been a proven that in dire states of emergency the human body can often reach a hyper sensory state of awareness. Adrenaline pumps through the body pushing it to its very limit. The synapses that trigger thoughts and impulses through the human mind start to fire rapidly, which speeds up the brain’s ability to process information. In relation to someone that can neither see nor smell but yet hear, it amplifies this sense to its highest state.
So when the agreed signal to ‘Commence the Procedure’ was called. Through the sounds of the machines signaling, above the keyboards clicking and the voices murmuring, he could hear each millisecond pass by inside the hollow tubing as the liquefied adamantium coursed through the pumping apparatus into the siphoning needles which pierced his skin, muscle and lead directly to his skeletal structure.
And then all he knew was pain.
His world was a light with flame as the searing metal pillaged his core. His agony was blinding as it molded and forged. His voice rang out till one scream could not be differentiated from the next. His hands clutched to his sides, desperately trying to rip the flesh off from his body, anything to make the pain stop.
Release me…
Then he could hear it, in a raspy voice it called to him. Through the weeks he felt it building underneath, inside of him. Through the numerous nights of experimentation, through the humility of having every section, every orifice of his body being picked and prodded. Through having all that made him human stripped away from him, he could feel it growing. It was all the darkness, all his pain, all his rage; it boiled under the surface, behind his non-responsiveness and vacant stares. The slim foundation that remained of his humanity fought daily to keep it caged, to keep it contained. But now it was all coming crumbling down.
The darkness demanded for release. The darkness had the answer. It knew how to make the pain go away. All he had to do was give in. All he had to do was let go. And in his agony, in his pain, in his weakness, he unleashed it. With a roar that shook the heavens the Beast was born.
And soon the whole world was screaming.
OoOoOo
Outskirts of Alberta,Canada
One hour ago…
In a cold sweat the Wolverine awakens from his nightmare. Rivers of perspiration fall from the desert that is his brow. His breaths are strong and harsh. His nostrils flare as if enraged. His heart races as if in a marathon. His cool steel eyes continue dart around the room searching for anything to vent out his rage. A soft sigh echoes from another room drawing his attention. In two breathes he bolts to the source, hardly making a sound.
A little more than a shadow marks his presence as he creeps into the bedroom. The Wolverine stares with foreign eyes at the young girl that’s peacefully away from the world slumbering on the bed. Her thin lips part as a small breath escapes her, a white bang of hair falling over her face. His hands ball tightly into fists. He could feel them inching, aching to be let out. Flashes of her covered in blood comes to him. A low growl rumbles from him as he takes another step forward.
Suddenly the scent of fresh sunflowers and the green grass assault him. It is a small subtle detail, nothing that would hinder the Beast from its progress, but something in the part that identifies with Logan the man, rises up in protest. The Beast thunders a roar inside of him. It craves blood. It does not want to be denied. Ultimate supremacy is its wish. But the objection will not cease. Slowly the Beast crawls back into its cage and Logan comes back to his senses.
OoOoOo
Marie D'Ancanto awakened from her peaceful sleep, believing she heard a noise in her room. With sleepy brown eyes, the young girl gave the room a once over looking for any life. Only darkness stared back at her and she’s puzzled, she could have sworn someone was just with her, but the continual vacant darkness is all that is there. Satisfied she snuggled back into the warm comforter, unaware of the departing shadow that fell from the room.
OoOoOo
The man named Logan breathed in the crisp frigid air as he softly closed the door to his cabin behind him. His boots made soft compacting crunches as he walked around in the knee deep snow; his mind examining the episode that had just occurred.
It has been many years since the night of blood and screams, the night that the Beast first awakened in him. But every time he sleeps he seems to revisit that night. His thoughts then drifted to the innocent girl inside that slept blissfully unaware of how close to the edge he had been. His fingers raked over his face to the realization.
He had been lucky, very damn lucky.
His sights soared to the midnight stars that were now are clear from the cloudy formation from earlier. “Ya gotta get rid of this kid bub, ‘fore ya hurt her,” his warning grave and true. The animal in him could not be trusted.
OoOoOo
Calgary International Airport
Alberta, Canada
Two hours ago
Charles Xavier sat peacefully in his comforted chair in deep mediation. Sounds of the Blackbird hummed and buzzed in the background as Scott and Ororo started the procedures to begin taking off. The older man stared off into one of the aisle’s windows watching the faint snowfall. It was a brief moment of peace from the hectic weekend they all had endured and it was the first time this weekend he was able to spend a few moments to reflect on his trip. Although a mask of deep furrowing concentration was adored on his face, truthfully Charles was deeply pleased.
He had been surprised at first when he received the invitation to speak at the University. In the States he had attended various smaller conferences from time to time. For the most part the largest role he had in working towards his dreams was from behind the scenes and through his work with the school. It was only in the more recent years as Mutant Issues become more prevalent in the world that he decided to step into the limelight to spearhead his goal. They had been making slow but genuine progress both politically and socially, yet still not much ground was being made. Those actions plus the everyday actions of running the school as well as his role in commanding the X-Men placed a precarious weight on Xavier’s shoulders.
Though ever tenacious Charles Xavier refused to give up or give in. He would fight and give his last dying breath to make his dream a reality for the whole world, but at what cost?
Xavier’s eyes shifted to the cockpit. He watched as Scott radioed to the control tower waiting for the runway to clear. Xavier remembered so many years ago when the young man found his way to his school. Lost is what Scott would tell him how he was feeling during that part of his life. But Charles saw none of the lost little boy in the man now. All he saw was the strong proud man that was able to take the reins as leader for his X-Men. Honest and dependable, he was a true model of what it was to be an X-Man.
Sitting beside him awaiting the runaway reply was Ororo. He too remembered the day when she arrived at his school. Young, beautiful, and proud she was. Daring this older white man to say she a ‘goddess’ was mortal and in fact a mutant. It seems like such a long time ago and if ever brought up, she would only be embarrassed by her behavior from then. She too had grown in so many ways since when they first met, but the pride, beauty, and inner-strength she held never left her in fact it seemed to reinforce the woman she was today.
Looking over his two students, his children, Charles could never be anything but proud for the people they were today. He had total faith in them and they in he, which often times laid his own inner dilemma. They would never know how often he questioned his own beliefs. Was he driving the people that he loved to the brink or beyond? Was sacrificing the comfort and care of the people he loved, worth the chance of achieving his dream? They’ve had countless battles in the past and experienced tremendous loss.
Some loss seemed almost too much to bear.
That was why the University appearance held so much weight for him. It was the first monumental step towards the day when the life of the X-Men would pass and they could all live their lives as normal people should.
He hadn’t realized when his beliefs had changed but that was his new goal. That was Charles Xavier’s new dream.
To Be Continued…
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