The Professor had positioned his chair behind his desk,but he was facing away,towards the bay window behind him,looking out onto the side garden.The light spilling through the window was cool,and in a strange way he looked like a washed out photograph,a memory slowly fading right in front of your eyes.

The waves of anger coming off Scott,doing the Logan thing in preferring to stand rather than sit,surprised her,but in retrospect it was not all that shocking-he was feeling betrayed that the Professor would keep a secret from them,a potentially dangerous secret.She had felt the same way initially,but they all had secrets,didn't they?Even telepaths.

Logan leaned against the wall on the far side,opposite from where Scott was standing with his arms crossed tightly across his chest ,as if trying to physically keep his hostility in.Only she and Rogue sat,keeping a good distance between them on the sofa,but only because it was now habit for Rogue to keep as far from others as possible.She was simply curious,too new around here to feel anything like betrayal,and Jean almost envied that.

Logan,meanwhile,was wary but reserving judgment-on the surface that seemed oddly mature of him,but really it was just a confluence of his inability to trust anyone very easily and his experience with secrets.No one had more secrets than Logan.

After everyone had settled down,the Professor said,without turning around,"With your permission,I thought it might be easier-and more comprehensive-if I simply shared the memories with you.Is that acceptable?"

They exchanged glances,Logan looking really uncomfortable with the idea while Rogue just looked startled,but still there seemed to be no objection."If you're willing to do that,I believe so,"Jean said,speaking for the group.

The Professor nodded,now turning his chair around to face the room,his regal face unusually grim,every line on his face etched in shadows,and his blue eyes were so cold,the lines in the corners standing out in relief,it almost looked as if he was in pain.

"If you're ready,"he said,and then they were no longer in Westchester.

"You're a fool,"Erik said,moving one of his black knights to capture one of his rooks.

"You say that about almost everything I do,"Charles noted wryly,considering his next move.

"Because it's invariably true,"Erik countered,sitting back against his chair.

The park was rather quiet today,so they had the rather incongruous chess table all to themselves.A good thing,since this game had been going on for over an hour,as they had played the game so long they usually stalemated unless someone was really off their game.Today,neither of them were,although Charles's mind kept wandering back to that very strange man he had encountered the other day.

He had approached him while he was in the bookstore on campus,a tall,pale man in dark clothing and a heavy dark overcoat that brought to mind either a detective really into his role or a government agent.He was correct about the latter.

The man handed him a business card before asking,"Mister Xavier,how would you like to help your country?"

"If it's not a set up-which I'm sure it is-then the government has finally stumbled on the idea of exploiting mutants for their own purposes.Do you really want to be their first pigeon?"Erik continued,his faintly accented voice sharp with bitterness.

It seemed Erik was growing more cynical and militant by the day,and he didn't really know what,if anything,he could do about it.He was obsessed with the idea that governments all over the world were embarking on a 'second wave of genocide' against mutants-"the evolutionary shift they don't dare name"-and collected newspaper and magazine clippings he said proved his point,although actually most were quite vague,and many made no mention of anything unusual (or mutant) at all.It was what he wanted to see,though,and Erik saw conspiracy everywhere.

"It's human nature to be scared of what you don't understand.Give them time,they'll learn."He replied,speaking to Erik's belief rather than answering his question.

"Ah yes?Where do I start this time-with the Crusades,the Spanish Inquisition,or the Salem witch trials?"He replied icily, although with a touch of weary humor.This argument between them was so old they could actually have it without the other being present.

Charles moved his white bishop closer to Erik's castle,and gave him a gentle,good humored smile."Sometimes I wish you could read minds.You'd see not all people are the callow,heartless bigots you seem to think they are."

"If I could read their minds,I'd kill them all,"he replied coldly,instantly moving another knight to protect his castle on the black and white checkered board.

Charles gave him a stern look."That's not funny,Erik."

Erik's steel blue eyes met his fearlessly,unbowed and unashamed,almost radiant with defiance."It wasn't meant to be."

Erik did scare him sometimes.Having inadvertently shared some of his memories,he knew that Erik had every right to be bitter and cynical:watching your family die one by one in a Nazi death camp was bound to sour the kindest spirit.But it had gone beyond even that;his whole spirit seemed to be curdling,dying a slow death and poisoning his entire being.The worst part was he genuinely liked Erik,in spite of all the bitterness:he was extremely intelligent and occasionally quite funny,and his loyalty to his few friends knew no bounds.But every day,by every hour,Erik seemed to be slipping away from him,one piece at a time,and he wasn't sure how to stop it,except show him kindness,engage his formidable intellect in debates,and hope some glimpse of the light got through.

But he was no longer sure Erik wanted to see the light anymore.

It was starting to effect his appearance too.His face could be said to be handsome,in a severe sort of way:he had a narrow knife blade of a visage,his cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass,his nose as thin and sharp as a stiletto beneath cold blue eyes that often reflected his intellectual genius and general disdain for everyone and everything else.His short,normally jet black hair was starting to show premature strands of grey ("Not grey,silver,"Erik would counter,enjoying the fact that his hair was becoming the color of metal),and everything about his features seemed to be hardening,as if he was slowly turning to stone.

Or perhaps he should say he was turning from flesh to steel,from the inside out.

Charles decided to press on,and bring up a salient point he was sure would throw a wrench in Erik's grand conspiracy plan.
"The man was a mutant,Erik."

He raised a single eyebrow,but otherwise his expression remained as stony as before."How do you know that?"

"I tried to glean his intentions,see if he knew I was a mutant,but I couldn't read his mind.It was..."he paused as he tried to think of an apt metaphor for the experience."...like running my hands over black glass.He had a mind,of course,but I couldn't reach it in any way;I didn't even get an empathic sense from him.It was so extraordinary I almost asked how he could do that."

"Could he have been a telepath too,blocking you out?"

Charles considered that as he captured Erik's knight,then shook his head."No.I'd know if I was encountering a more powerful telepath.It wasn't like that at all.It was...bizarre,but I couldn't help but be intrigued."Only after he had made his move did he see that Erik had been luring him away from an important defensive position,and was three moves away from checkmate.There was no denying he could be frustratingly crafty sometimes,but he had to resist reading his mind just for an advantage in a simple game.Erik would make a ruthless general-he'd sacrifice most of his men,but he would capture the castle.

"So you're going down to Washington to meet with his little group?"Erik asked,making just the move Charles had expected him to make.

"I have to.The idea is fascinating."

He looked off towards the grassy sward leading down to the duck pond,where two young lovers were having a picnic on a blanket spread out on the grass,tossing bread crusts to the bolder ducks and laughing as the birds scrambled and fought for the crumbs.Although the scene made Erik scowl in distaste,he had a familiar far away look in his eyes,suggesting he was thinking of something else."Infiltrate the government,and overthrow it from the inside out.Tricky,but it just might work..."he muttered, as if thinking aloud.

It was Charles's turn to scowl."This is not about overthrowing the government:it's about helping them."

That made Erik look sharply at them."Why help them?So they can make you an Uncle Tom to your own kind?"

He sighed,wondering why he ever brought it up in the first place."We're all humans,Erik."

"Some of us more than others,"Erik said bitterly,watching as Charles made a move that brought him one step closer to checkmate.

**

Logan was almost jumping out of his skin.

She could almost pick up on the warning bells going off in his head:government,government program involving mutants.He was with Magneto here,urging not just caution but destruction,and it wasn't hard to guess why,since the government was the chief suspect in what had happened to Logan.In fact,a part of Logan was furious at the Professor for never mentioning it before,considering what had happened to him.But the Professor must have not thought there was a connection,otherwise he would have told him.She sincerely believed that,and hoped Logan did as well.

Logan also seemed to be cursing a blue streak in his mind:"....goddamn asshole,not a mutant,a demon you moron..."

She hoped,since she assumed Xavier was hearing it too,that he forgave him for that.Logan wasn't in a very rational frame of mind when he recalled his torture and mutilation,for obvious reasons.

The rest of the memories felt like a montage,a brief recap just touching on important events while skipping the needless ones: Xavier undergoing standardized e.s.p. tests while being observed by government agents (and of course passing with flying colors,telling the tester the patterns on the cards several cards ahead of time);talking to the agent that had so intrigued him,the tall,almost cadaverous looking 'Agent Stone',who was trying to talk the Professor into telepathic espionage 'for the good of the country';meeting another Agent,identified as Swan,who is also unreadable,but gives the Professor a far eerier feeling than Stone ever did;and,in violation of rules,discussing the prospect of becoming involved in 'Operation Arsenal' with Magneto, who had accompanied the Professor down to Washington D.C. mainly due to his concern for the whole thing (again with the Uncle Tom and Judas Iscariot references from Magneto,which now seemed bitterly ironic since Magneto would ultimately betray Xavier,his only true friend).

The Professor ultimately decided not to participate in Arsenal,but only because he felt that reading peoples minds without just cause-simply because they fit some pre-conceived pattern-was immoral,no matter the supposedly good intentions behind it.

Which is exactly what he told Agent Stone.

**

Charles sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair before Stone's oversized desk,while Stone sat behind it,mostly in shadow with the partially opened blinds behind him,almost giving him a visible aura of yellow light.

"I see,"Stone said finally,standing up.He wore a somewhat ill fitting brown suit with a white shirt and a pale grey tie that had a small dark blotch at the bottom-a coffee stain?

(-somewhere far away,Jean was distantly aware of Logan's mind screaming,'It's dried blood,you bastard!Get out or kill him now!'-)

"So young,and already a man of principals.And with your gifts!I must say,it's quite refreshing."

Stone came around front to sit on the corner of his desk,one knee raised slightly and the other foot on the floor,hands folded on his knees.He looked down at Charles with a trace of a smile on his face,but there was something not quite right in his pale grey eyes.Not for the first time,he wished he could read something from him,even if it was only his emotions.

"You know,when Operation Arsenal was started-as a shadow op,of course-the initial intent was to bring in the inhuman voluntarily,"Stone began,assuming a pedantic tone that suggested this was a long speech.

"Inhuman?"Charles interrupted,puzzled.He wasn't sure if he should be offended or not.

Stone was a remarkably bland looking man,thinning blond hair crowning a face so round,soft,and undistinguished it wasn't unusual for Charles to forget what he looked like only minutes after he last talked to him.Wasn't that in itself odd?

But Stone went on,ignoring him."Not that they're especially patriotic,but they like causing trouble,and getting paid for it is simply a bonus.We never expected to inadvertently recruit humans who are rather...different.What's the term,mutants?"

He wondered if Stone was putting him on.Was he saying that humans weren't the only intelligent species on the planet?

"But the funny thing is,the upper ranks don't trust demons as a rule,"Stone went on,and Charles knew he had to be kidding now.He had to be kidding,or he was perfectly insane,possibly explaining why he couldn't read him at all."But mutants are even worse."He chuckled,as if that was really funny,and looked straight down at Charles...his eyes changing color and form.
The grey irises turned a sickly,jaundiced yellow,the black pupil lengthening,becoming a slit from a circle,and something in his jaw seemed to unhinge:he suddenly had two rows of sharp teeth,one behind the other,like a shark,his lips stretching out until his mouth took up almost the entire lower half of his face.He looked like a grotesque parody of a human.

"Now,keep in mind I said original intent,"the thing that called itself Stone said,now lisping terribly and flinging spittle about, his new mouth not quite made for the pronunciation of human words."The funniest thing now is that any of you chosen for Arsenal think you have the option to leave."

(-somewhere far away,Jean realized,in his own mind,Logan had already cut Stone's head off with his claws as he was transforming-Scott was tensed to fire-)

Charles stood,intending to make a break for it,but the awkwardly shaped humunculous suddenly reached into his jacket and fired something before Charles could even turn around.Something like a drug dart hit him in the solar plexus,and even as he reached down to pull it out,he could feel the warmth of the drug speeding through his bloodstream,leaving a hot sort of numbness in its wake.

Charles had time to send out a telepathic call for help as he collapsed back into the chair,unable to move his limbs,and soon the warmth seemed to fog over his mind,robbing him of his telepathy,and slowly draining away his consciousness.

"And the best thing of all,"Stone said,leaning in so Charles could see him before he blacked out."I can do whatever I want to you.At the end of the day,who gives a fuck about a mutie?"

**

There was a halo of light around everything as he opened his eyes,his body feeling as it was composed of wet sand,boneless and impossible to move,feeling deafened because he seemed to have no telepathic senses anymore:his mind felt like it was wrapped in clouds of wet cotton wool,and it was a horrible sensation.It was like some part of him had been amputated.

His fuzzy vision first saw grey walls,grey metal walls-

(-the shock of instant recognition from Logan,a mix of fear,revulsion,and rage,is instantaneous and so strong it is almost dizzying.Jean doesn't know how everyone can't feel that-)

-as he is dragged past them,vaguely aware that he is in a part of the building he had never seen before,and he is brought into a small room,all metal and lights-

(-Logan is a beacon of fear and fury at this point-he knows places like this far too well.He may not even be aware of his own overwhelming response;it's coded in his brain,instinct now,knee jerk,an atavistic response.She tries hard to block him out, because she is starting to react to his fright and hatred;she can feel panic setting in,her heart racing,adrenaline surging-)

-and tossed by the guards unceremoniously on a hard metal table,a bright  light overhead all but blinding him-

(-it takes all Jean's willpower not to scream-)

-and the guards leave,but Stone is there.Stone,and a dark figure,beyond the halo of light so Charles can't quite see him.

"You know,I think you'd make a great operative,but we have trouble doing telepaths half as strong as you,"Stone said,back in human face again,but the drugs are so heavy it sounds like he's speaking under water."So,since I owe my friend a favor here,I thought I'd let him conduct a little experiment."

(-she is biting the inside of her cheek so hard she can taste her own blood,and she desperately wants to kill these men,tear them apart,rend them limb from limb like dolls,the hate is almost too much to bear-)

The shadow man comes forward now,and he can see it is that man Swan,a shorter,stockier man with skin the color of bleached bones,his close cropped hair the color of grave dirt,his eyes like dark thumbprints in his soft,doughy face.But nothing about this man looks soft at all:he looks as if he's hard all the way down to bone,his eyes dead,as if made of glass,with nothing but the faintest light left to illuminate them.Demon too,probably,but not the same as Stone..no,not the same at all.

"I've never tasted a psionic this strong before,"Swan says,and his voice is a hungry rasp.

"Don't eat him all,"Stone said."We need some of his mind left to see if this is going to work."

Swan makes a noise,an annoyed grunt of vague agreement,and Charles can feel his arm brush his.Swan's arm is as cold as death,and his flesh almost has a leathery feel,as if it is a completely non-porous casing,not living tissue at all.

Swan puts his hand on his forehead,and Charles thinks he sees something odd on the palm of his hand,but what?It looked dark...a mark,a wound?

But his hand feels warm on his forehead,almost feverishly hot,and suddenly a pain unlike any other stabs through Charles's mind.It's psychic,but the equivalent of a knife being shoved between his delicate brain tissue,severing neurons and frying synapses,causing an explosion of black motes before his eyes.He would scream from the pain,but he is too drugged to even do that-

(-Jean almost screams,his pain on top of  this is too much-psychic pain,gods,she can feel it like it's slicing into her own brain- but suddenly she finds comfort in Logan's bedrock of rage:it endures pain with its own mantra-"survive to make them pay" -and seems to hold on...the hate had a purpose after all-)

-and he thinks Swan is increasing whatever he is doing so it feels like the world has turned to Jell-o beneath him,but the pain has stopped,and the black spots fade from his vision as he hears Stone exclaim,"What the hell is this?An earthquake?"

"Asshole,this is Washington D.C.,"Swan rasps."It doesn't have earthquakes."

Suddenly a very loud,strident alarms rips through the room,echoing off the metal walls,and Stone hisses,"Shit-we're under attack."

"What?Who would even know to attack us?"Swan snaps.

Metal walls.

Charles knows if he could smile,or even laugh,he would.Obviously Erik got his telepathic distress call before the drugs kicked in,and now,with a mix genuine regret and ecstatic glee,he knows their world is about to end.

Stone draws his regulation sidearm and says to Swan,"Get him out the back.We'll rendezvous at-"

But his sentence is cut short when the door and the walls on either side of it are torn away as if by a giant hand,but the sudden gaping wound in the architecture reveals nothing...except a lone young man walking down the hall towards it.

"Charles?"He shouts,sounding somewhat pissed."Where the hell are you?"

(-Jean realizes that Logan is all but cheering,and,sadly,so is she,even though she knows this can't end well-)