Lifting the Iron Veil

Posted on Sun Dec 29th, 2024 @ 3:30am by Charles Xavier & Erik Magnus Lehnsherr

1,286 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Episode 5: Days of Fortune Past
Location: X-Mansion/Asteroid M
Timeline: November 22nd, 1990

The sterile hum of Cerebro filled the chamber as Professor Charles Xavier sat alone in his chair, the enhanced telepathic amplifier bridging the vast distance between him and the enigmatic presence of Erik Lehnsherr. Across the void of space, their connection sprang to life—a tenuous thread binding two old friends and ideological adversaries.

The image of Magneto sharpened in Xavier’s mind: seated in a throne-like chair aboard Asteroid M, his expression as impassive as the cold metal walls around him. Behind him, the vast expanse of Earth gleamed like a distant memory.

"Erik," Charles began softly, his voice laced with relief. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever lower your veil of silence."

"I lowered nothing, Charles," Magneto replied, his mental tone as sharp as the honed edge of a blade. "I've been waiting for you now that circumstances have calmed down. You should be honored."

Charles allowed himself a faint smile despite the tension. "Then I am honored. You are well, I trust? Your brief message of trouble was... sparse with details."

"Well enough, though my patience grows thin," Magneto replied, leaning forward. "One of the refugees I took in was no refugee at all, but a saboteur."

Xavier’s brows furrowed. "Saboteur? What could one person acting alone..."

"A man equipped with metallic claws, a skeleton to match, and, most disturbingly, Sentinel modifications that veiled him from my station's sensors," Magneto cut in, his voice deepening with anger. "He waged a guerilla campaign against my regime, rallied dissidents to his cause, and nearly brought Asteroid M to its knees. Casualties were higher than I care to admit, but the rat is finally subdued." His mouth ticked up in aggravation despite not speaking aloud. "Though not without making off with my trophy." Of course, he meant the head of Master Mold which had adorned his private quarters.

Xavier inhaled sharply, his telepathic senses diving deeper into the vision Magneto projected. Recognition dawned like a dark cloud. "That would be Weapon X," he said gravely. "A former member of Alpha Flight. The X-Men had an altercation with him aboard the Blackbird in their flight from Canada." He shared the mental image of Cyclops blasting the clawed attacker out of the cargo door and into the dirt.

Magneto’s expression darkened. "Ah, yes. The lapdogs for Department H and their crimes against mutants. And now this hound comes barking for revenge for my destruction of their compound?"

"Perhaps," Xavier admitted. "But the Prime Sentinel technology you describe suggests a deeper connection. I suspect the Hellfire Club’s hand in this."

Magneto’s eyes narrowed. "Prime Sentinel? Charles, what in blazes is that?"

Xavier leaned forward in his chair. "Sebastian Shaw’s son, Shinobi, has taken his father’s place as Lord Imperial with the help of Emma Frost. But Shinobi turned against her, and so I persuaded her to turn state’s witness against the Inner Circle, orchestrating their downfall."

"How did you accomplish that?" Magneto queried, honestly curious. "Emma Frost is a telepath, if I recall, so your usual tricks would not work."

Ignoring the insinuation that Xavier would compel someone against their will, the Professor let a flurry of images give the explanation. "Operation Zero Tolerance." A picture was worth a thousand words, and Xavier gave Magneto a full montage of everything that had happened in recent weeks with regards to the Prime Sentinel program.

Magneto seethed at each event as they passed through his mind's eye. His mental gaze sharpened as he probed the fleeting image of Shinobi from Xavier's mind through their shared link. Recognition flared. "Flux," Magneto spat, the word dripping with contempt. "One of your X-Men, as I recall?"

Xavier absorbed the rebuke without protest, his expression heavy with regret. "Yes. A failure of my own judgment, and for that, I accept responsibility."

Magneto leaned back in his throne, his helmet resting beside him as he stroked his chin. "And what, Charles, have you done to rectify this lapse?"

"I sent two teams to destroy Mother Mold, the central controller for the Prime Sentinels, and the factory itself, but not without great cost." Xavier let Magneto see Mara's brave sacrifice through their telepathic link.

"Yes," Magneto said, indifferent to the loss of a soldier in battle. "But what of Flux?"

"Left to his own devices," Xavier said, chiding himself for expecting empathy from a terrorist like Magneto, "Shinobi Shaw will bring about his own downfall." Though calm, the lines on his face betrayed his weariness.

Magneto’s sneer returned. "You may be content to let nature take its course, but I am not. I will remind this vermin what becomes of race traitors."

"Erik," Xavier interjected, his voice firm. "Such black-and-white thinking will only play into his hands. You must remember the greater good you’ve used to justify your own atrocities, lest you become another pawn in his game. Shinobi is not ignorant of who killed his father."

The Master of Magnetism’s brow furrowed as he mulled over Xavier’s words. Reluctantly, he gave a small nod. "You may have a point, Charles. No doubt Flux has anticipated my response. But I cannot sit idly by."

Xavier sighed. "If you must act, Erik, I implore you to avoid collateral damage. Enough mutants have suffered under Shinobi’s betrayal."

Magneto’s tone softened, though it retained its edge. "I will not add to their suffering, Charles. But I will draw a line in the sand, and I will be watching to see who dares cross back over it."

Xavier accepted this concession, knowing he could hope for little more. "Thank you for your discretion... old friend."

"How... is Pietro?" Magneto hesitated, his uncertainty manifesting in a pregnant pause within their telepathic conversation.

"Your son is well," Charles assured him. He intentionally referred to Pietro by his relation to Erik rather than his name. "He was instrumental in the bringing down both the Inner Circle and the Prime Sentinel production facility."

Magneto was silent, but his feelings were not veiled from Charles. There was pride, regret, anger, abandonment, and joy all woven together in a tapestry of fatherly regards. "I expected nothing less," Magneto said at length. "Has he made any headway in locating Wanda?"

Although Charles could detect that Erik and Pietro had been in contact, he answered the question in good faith. It did not require telepathy to know that Pietro had been cagey in their recent correspondence and that Erik did not believe Pietro to trust him with vital information such as Wanda's whereabouts.

"Not yet," Charles said. "They have an ally who is aiding them, however, so the search continues." Knowing what troubled Magneto's heart, Charles gave him another assurance. "I will contact you as soon as I know anything. Regardless of our teams' pasts, we all want Wanda to be safe and sound as much as we do Lorna."

Magneto sniffed with practice indifference, but once again he couldn't veil his true feelings. "Thank you, Charles, but I think we're done here."

"Before you go... " Charles pressed, feeling hopeful about the inroads they had made. Perhaps even one day they could reconcile. "... is there anything Asteroid M needs? Humanitarian aid, perhaps?"

Magneto’s lips curled into a derisive smirk. "Humanitarian?" he echoed mockingly. "Nothing good ever came from 'human' intervention."

It was an intentional misunderstanding, a bitter double entendre, but Magneto had grown impatient. Without another word, he donned his helmet, severing the connection.

Xavier removed his own Cerebro helmet, his face etched with concern. He sat in silence for a long moment, pondering Magneto’s next move and the storm it might unleash. "What will you do now, Erik?" he murmured.

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