Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morning is a dim, fine light. After the bang, the ringing burst of a world ending doom, followed by the inevitable darkness of destruction. They’d lost it all in the end.The two of them at least. Lost in the whole sense of the word, entirely, at the center of the explosion. When Magneto pushed the ships carrying mutantkind into space, when the --Unknown– forces gave the final blow. How they’d lingered in the subatomic hellspace of a dying earth, before even Erik’s powers could not withstand the strength and magnitude of impending death.

And then it was quiet for some time. It was only the call of distant horizons and the pulsing throb of the furnace at the heart of every star. It was existential oneness, blinding effervescent grace.

But that was all an illusion now, wasn’t it? An implanted memory. When or if we return, we have no knowledge of our past lives.

Morning is still, a dim, fine light.

——————————————————————————-

Charles walked through the meandering trails of his being. Figuratively and literally. Mentally he was keeping pace with steady legs, a younger version of himself, not quite a young man but no longer a boy. His legs worked steady, hard, he felt the veins, felt the blood. His legs were strong.

A distant echo of that diminished strength. Nothing but a memory of old age, of paralysis. He was younger now, lucky him. Age was working in his favor.

Tracing the paths of his nervous system, circulatory completed. Follow the path of blood, from your bone marrow to the capillaries, veins to arteries to your heart, pump hard to the brain, reignite the cerebral engine. Turn the mutant component on hyperdrive. Charles is potent.

’You, are potent.’

“Who said that?”

‘You did.’

”I did?”

‘Yes. ’

Charles opened his eyes to voices, hushed paintbrush strokes of sound on the tip of his consciousness. He was aware of bystanders, on lookers, voyeurs, but he could not see them. He was alone, and his vision was-

White.

White beveled ceiling, smooth lines, half an ellipse. A long shelf extending across the opposite wall. No visible door. No windows. Confined in some inner sanctum, or underground.

There was no more ‘underground’, remember? There was no more ground. Earth was gone.

HE was gone. He was an old, frail man, fighting a war the humans had lost, mutantkind had no chance of survival against it’s greatest threat to date.

“Who was it exactly?” Charles spoke the words out loud, and his voice frightened him. It was stronger, bolder, louder. He’d not heard that voice in over 70 years.

As if only then the thought occurred to him, he looked nervously down at his own new body. He was lying down, clothed in a smooth form fitting cloth, but most unnerving were the hands and arms of a young man, a young man without the scars and imperfections of a life hard lived and hard fought.

Charles touched his chin, his cheeks, felt the nostalgic caress of smooth, lineless skin and the dimples of a man who’d long since vanished into old photographs with only sentimental value for relevance.

He’d done well, tracing the narrow crevices of each nerve ending in his body, finding that he was whole and healthy and without flaw. His cells spoke in unison of youth and vigor, and if anything he yearned to stretch and try the new legs he’d been gifted in some miracle of rejuvenation.

Was this, somehow, the work of his students? Surely, this place, the furniture (the bed that he was lying in, very modern and sleek but still, recognizable as a human’s bed from the 21st century c.e.).

Hope above hope, someone else had survived? Had received the same sort of treatment?

Charles had memories, all of them, the good and the bad, the humility and the courage, the rage and the sorrow. But here he was, feeling whole and hearty, and yet utterly at a loss, and utterly alone.

Was music playing? Had it been playing all along? Classical, soothing, somber. The strings and harps of many bygone eras past. It had been a long time, he felt sure of that. If the memories of transcending existence were any proof and not some hollow dream upon reanimation.

Was this truly ? Was his corpse revived and revitalized in some healing serum, in a vat like a human pickle, fermenting back into youth?

Think not, death was all too visceral. The pressure, the heat, the loss of self. How long had they lingered there? It felt countless eons, but even longer still the lapse of effervescent unsentience. He had no way to truly quantify what had occurred after his suicide pact with Erik.

Erik. ERIK!

Charles reached out with his mind.

Nothing. No presence. A perfectly serene atmosphere with no windows, and nothing as far as an intelligent lifeform. He was in a lock box or being kept by some sort of inorganic species.

Or maybe you have no powers anymore Charles. You’ve revived as a perfectly normal mundane human. As a gift?

A bizarre thought, but it couldn’t be the case. A mutant can feel their innate abilities, even if they can’t act upon it. Power both penetrating and natural as breath, he could sense, could feel at the edges of the room, but received only his own skills directed back at him, directed inward.

As far as he reached out, the more his mind turned inwards. He was circulating in rushes of blood and pangs of forgotten pain. Loss, fragility, death. The more he peered into the outside world, the world beyond this small space, the more claustrophobic his thoughts became, and so he stifled his curiosity, and for his own sake, stopped.

It was many long moments of silent, strained breathing, the weight of reintegrating into the physical world all too heavy on his psyche. He had all the memories of an elder, the perspective of infinity, but felt mashed and jammed back into tangible, physical sentience.

He grasped his hair with one hand. Hair, he HAD hair. And it was lush. It flowed through his fingers like silk. The thickness and strength of his all too quickly vanquished youth. Lost to war and illness.

It was bizarre. The bald scalp was easy care, he didn’t even have to shave. Now he truly felt a pang of embarrassment. He was barely in his twenties, if even. If his hair was this color and texture. There was no mirror, but upon touching his own lips he felt the bow of their pursed form and the thin moisture that’d made them enticing to all the coeds at Oxford.

Sense was a tingling and nagging sensation. So far he wasn’t experiencing pain. He was a new born 19 year old at the ripe age of 103. No pain, but distinct, indescribable, uninvited..

Pleasure.

A thin line materialized in the wall, etching out a rectangular shape before hissing out of view behind a panel. There stood an idealized form, a creature of fine proportion and sound engineering. Their attire akin to something he may have seen in depictions of ancient Egypt, and the sort of garb his students had been donning by the 2030’s. It was both sleek and modern and utterly timeless in it’s excellence. The creams juxtaposed sleekly with matte black and sharp lines of golden, shining metal.

And yet the creature itself was made of a material all too familiar.

It was Sentinel in make and model. Just, a humanoid, unassuming, aesthetic model. Just enticing enough to be approachable, relatable, sympathetic. But utterly untouchable with Charles’ innate and only powers.

He was frightened, the pleasure mingling with the pain of fear. Fear that was raw pain in your gut. When you manage not to soil yourself but it aches like a kick to the balls. Gut wrenching fear.

The creature spoke.

”It seems you are alarmed. Do not be frightened, I mean you and your kind no harm at all.” The creature gave a ceremonial half bow, a combined effort of multiple cultures from Charles' recollection of Earth. His guard was hindered, but not down.

”You are a valued guest, an honorable asset in the recovery of the mutant race.” Twice it mentioned the entirety of mutantkind. There must be others, but any amount of reaching came up completely negative, only the deep sinking feeling like the edge of a spiraling blackhole’s howling maw.

Charles was afraid to speak. He couldn’t trust his voice, his words, the words of an old man in a youth’s mouth.

“You must have questions. Unfortunately, I do not read the brainwaves of Organics. It is something we still do not comprehend. So, if you will, speak aloud, freely. I am listening.”

Charles blinked in mild confusion, awe, horror. For all he knew he was one mutant stranded in a sea of Sentinel civilians in a new future bore from his nightmares. He was still Charles, he had the memory and the skills, but this was not his place, his time, nor his body. It was as if his very essence had been snatched from the universal web, downloaded and implanted into this flimsy puppet of flesh and bone.

”Are there others?” Was the first thing he managed to say. Odd, a boy’s voice. An adult by age but the demeanor and tenor of his younger more feral self.

”Indeed. Very many, and thriving as well.” The creature made a noise that echoed birds of bygone Earth. A titter and a trill. Must be an audible sensory reaction to the concept of ‘joy’.

”Mutants survived?” Charles was relieved and exhilarated. His lips quivered.

”Thanks to the efforts of yourself..” The creature seemed to speak in reverence.

”-and Magneto.” It heralded.

Erik’s consciousness gained awareness like a bolt of lightning arcing across a hot desert night. He went from dead sleep, comatose with no sensation of living, to suddenly being thrust into his body, the familiar shape and aches hitting with absolute reality. He felt his identity, his mind and paranoia and the magnetic tug of every bolt and panel around him. He could never explain it to his peers, the instincts that guided his powers, but already he was mapping 100 meters in any direction. He wanted to believe that he was back at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Or one of his many strongholds among the Mutant Brotherhood - the Citadel, the Antarctic Subterranean Base, even the creatively named Island M. If his men had him, he was safe.

Instinctively, he felt for his helmet, forged by meteorite and lead - with the intricate technology needed to prevent psychic attacks. It was gone. His surroundings were unfamiliar and terrifyingly different. Years of experience came back to him as his paranoia triggered a series of probing at the world around him.

He was not with his people. He wasn’t even sure he was with the military - everything his powers now flowed through was unique from anything he had ever felt before. The alloys of the metals were blended with polymers and elements that he had never touched. Even the structures, honeycomb hollows with light fibers transferring data, seals created by the lightest touch through molecular attraction, carried a sophistication which exceeded the brightest and richest on Earth.

Erik’s palms quivered as he stretched beyond the limits of 100 meters and spread out - tracing the outlines of rooms, the iron density in living bodies, and the barriers surrounding him all.

His eyes fell open as he touched the magnetosphere of a great blue star, so different from the small yellow of Sol in Earth’s solar system. The light of the room made him wince and flinch, and he pulled his arm, carefully strung with cables to shield his eyes. He was in a pure white room, with lighting and no windows. The door was practically invisible but he could sense the border through the frisson of molecules. There was no handle on his side, and it had several locking devices in use.

The cables that rose from his body through his strange suit seemed to be placed on vitals, patches pressed to his skin. Nothing metal was in his body, which for the sake of his captors, meant that he had nothing to immediately crumple and throw. It was familiar, like his time in a plastic prison, alone in a room for nearly a decade.

Every day in that place he had waited for an opportunity to escape - anything out of the ordinary was noted and inspected. His powers had grown since then, exponentially, and it mortified him that he had been so powerless in his prime.

Now, he was already becoming aware of his location, its place in the stars, and the truth of his awakening.

He had some memories. Erik pulled the sensors free from his body and lurched off of the soft hospital style bed he had been positioned in.

Earth. He was far from Earth. He must be in space, in a large craft or vessel of some kind, he had not mapped it entirely, but the place was nearing the size of Manhattan.

Earth. His home, a place he loved and loathed in equal parts. A planet that he himself had left scars on, tormented by ghosts and pain. It was where his family was - the Brotherhood and the mutants that he sheltered. The children he had fathered who were kept far away from him. Emma, Raven, Charles.

Charles. He had been doing something with Charles, in the final fragments of his recollection. Holding him? Protecting him? He had wanted to keep the fragile man safe, holding the paralyzed body close to his own.

He blinked rapidly and clenched his hands into fists, bringing them to his eyes. Everything was off - and he didn’t have time to panic. He had to keep his wits about him, and discover the truth of this place.

His tongue and lips were dry, and he wet them with his tongue, swiping over cracks and trying to find a voice. He was hoarse and could barely let out a small groan. His hands opened and he stared at them. They were…smooth, soft. Young. He turned his palms and then stared at his feet. They were bare and also had the smooth appearance of unbroken leather. He was absolutely sure that he had not been young when his last memories burned like dried kindling in a fire. He had been old, covered in scars, poorly healed bones and deep wrinkles. These were the hands of a young man. Soft and green, in the blush of flesh and vitality.

What had been done to his body without permission? What new experiment was he a part of now? Anger bubbled low and deep as he brushed his fingertips to his face, feeling the cheekbones, the lips and the nose. His skin was smooth, without stubble - likely lasered off since he was prone to stubble after a matter of hours.

The idea of being violated in such a way as to even deprive him of his own age ignited that rage that was ubiquitous with his being. It gave him strength, it gave him drive when all else was ruined.

“Charles.” he whispered with a hoarse voice. “What happened?”

He was Magneto. He was Erik Lehnsherr. His powers and memories established that as solid steel within his mind. He was a mutant and a survivor of multiple wars. He was a warrior. And as far as he knew, he was alone.

He waited, in the bright fluorescent room, feeling his own heartbeat, sitting in his own mind. He meditated on the cold hard floor, the strange suit tight on his body, and the pounding of his own head.

The survivalist in him, the wild animal that had always inevitably guided him to safety, was coiling in panic around the room. It was already contemplating escape, capturing and dominating the vessel he was trapped in. He would kill anyone who stood in his way between freedom and imprisonment. It was wondering why he was here in this room and when he would be introduced to his captors.

He clenched his jaw, still squinting in pain from the light. He was in a terrible mood.

And then, as neurons and synapses snapped together, his memories began to strike him like a hammer at a forge.

The world, Earth, him and Charles. He remembered something.

“Professor!” Scott Summers, the prodigal son, and founding X-man, was calling for Charles Xavier as he powered his wheelchair away from the jet that was loading with evacuees.

“Professor, please!” The man’s voice cracked in desperation. But as he started towards them, Charles put a finger to his temple and his voice rang out.

Erik nearly clutched his head, wincing at the volume and power behind the telepathic message.

“Hear me, my X-men, my children.”

Erik had his arms raised up, hovering in the air like a crucifix. Sweat was dripping down his eyes and he could feel the nosebleed pumping down his chin. Only the desperation of the consequences was keeping him conscious. Hearing Charles’ voice was a balm, it lessened the pain, numbed the terrible fear in his heart.

The sky was on fire. The atmosphere was burning from the sheer number of meteors that were breaching it. The spaceships that could be loaded and evacuated needed his push to pass through unharmed from impact and from the unstable stratosphere and mesopause. He was slowing the impact enough for them to escape. But he was only a man, and they couldn’t afford to waste a second.

“Go to the stars and know that I am always with you. I cannot follow. It is my fate to support the ones who must stay behind. To the last moment.”

Scott Summers was forced to go back into the jet by the telepath, and it launched towards the sky, as everything began to turn orange and red. Trees began to smoke as the moisture was leeched from them.

Erik felt, rather than saw the presence of Charles beside him. His eyes, staring up into the light and pushing the ships had blurred his vision and he wasn’t sure if he was now blind or if it was the pressure in his head that distorted it.

A soft hand grasped his ankle, it was the only thing Charles could reach. A voice called to him, private and soft now, only for him.

“I would never leave you.” Charles entered his mind, cooling the pain.

“I know.” Erik replied in his mind. “Though I would not have faulted you for needing to go.” He sank down, to stand beside the man who he considered his closest friend. His greatest enemy. The one person he had secretly hoped would be right in the pursuit of equality and mutant-kind.

“I am…honored to be by your side.” he felt the last ships breaking through the Earth’s barriers, pushing beyond the danger zones of impact. The X-man shuttle was the last, and he pushed it with all of his might towards safety.

“Always.” Charles now wrapped a hand around his arm, which was shaking with effort and cramping painfully. “Always, Erik. I have always been waiting for you. You have always been the person I wanted most to spend my last moments with.”

Flashes of Charles’ affection, of his dreams passed through Erik, and if he were not already overwhelmed, he might have sobbed with regret at the two of them, monoliths in their own right, always separated by principle and ideals.

The smaller meteorites fell, passing through his net, and they burned on their way down. Shining beams of green and blue arching over them.

“Erik.” Charles squeezed him. “You can let go. You’ve done it. You saved everyone who could be saved.”

“I haven’t saved you.” Erik felt the tears fall down fast and heavy.

“Come here.” Charles didn’t have to command him. He sank to his knees and buried his uncovered head in the other man’s lap.

“I don’t want to be saved if it means you are sacrificing yourself. We may have been apart all of these years but now we can be forever joined in death. You have always been in my thoughts and mine in yours. This is the right path.”

Erik felt the strength begin to leave his body and he was so exhausted that he faded in and out of consciousness.

“Rest if you need, my friend. I am here.” Charles stroked a hand through the messy crown of hair on his head.

“I’m so proud of you.” he pushed the bloody hair that was sticking to his face back. Erik felt nothing but peace, even as the plants and trees around them began to burn.

“We did what was needed, now it’s the young generation's turn. A clean slate without our shadow falling over it.” Charles sounded confident and calm.

Erik was afraid. He was determined and terrified. He gripped Charles and pulled him off of his wheelchair and into his arms, holding the man tight against them. It was the grip of the dying and also of an eternal goodbye.

“I don’t want to lose you.” His quiet voice reflected a child that had suffered the abandonment of every loved person in their life.

“I’m here, Erik. I’m with you.” Charles was guarded by Erik’s body, but his face was red and bloody now, as the great meteors breached the atmosphere.

They were clutching each other so tightly, they were one being. Erik screamed in pain and rage as he felt his back burning up. His powers ricocheted and swelled, then compacted until they were a bubble of pure magnetic resistance.

He kissed the bridge of Charles’ nose, his temple and then felt the impact on Earth. The planet was torn asunder, hot magma exploding from the blast. Waves of apocalyptic tectonic earthquakes shattered the land. For several moments, Erik held Charles in his bubble as it was covered in the blinding glow of the Earth’s molten yolk. They never loosened their grip, even as Erik’s memory faded.

Erik brought a young hand to his face and wiped tears from it.

Charles was dead. He had died. That is what his memories told him. It was possible that this was an illusion. A lie made by a talented telepath. But as his searching continued beyond his cell, it seemed to confirm his fears.

If he had died, was he even Erik Lehnsherr? He stared at his palms. They lacked the scars from grabbing the barbed wire around the Warsaw ghetto as a child. He was an imposter of some kind. But his powers and his memories had somehow stayed.

But what was it worth? He had no one and nothing left.

Chapter Text

“Magneto?” Charles spoke with anticipation, his voice catching with the excitement of youth. “Erik? You’re talking about Erik Lehnsherr?” Charles’ eyes were wide, pangs of longing, of hope gripping him like a vice.

”Who else? The Magnetokinetic himself, the only electromagnetic mutant to ever exist on record. Omega level. Yes, and the savior of the Human race.”

“The mutant-Human race?”

”Precisely. Earthlings were able to evacuate during The Cataclysm that destroyed your home world. In time, mutants adapted to the limitations of a space based environment, but all true humans ceased to exist about 200-300 Earth years after The Event.”

”And so it has been quite some time. How long, exactly, in Earth years?”

”7358 Earth years.” The Sentinel creature stated with mild apprehension.

Charles reeled from the number, unable to comprehend his existence after such a length of time. Even the remains of ancient mummies were not able to sustain over 7000 years of degradation. What had occurred in all this time? Charles stretched his abilities towards the Sentinel, tapping at the electronic waves that throbbed in its core, trying to access any depth of memory or knowledge. He was met with nothing, like trying to pull conversation from a very shiny, amiable stone.

”May I see some of these mutants? If they are really… alive?”

”We’re keeping you separated for your sake, and to assess your level of success. You are, afterall, a very precious but precarious experiment.”

”I beg your pardon? In fact, would you care to explain how I happen to exist at all?” Charles felt panic at the base of his throat, having discovered things about his body that made him both nervous and frightened.

”That will be explained once you are introduced to Magneto. The two of you will be briefed together on the situation at hand.”

“Introduced? Erik.. ERIK?! He’s alive? Like me? He.. survived?”

”Neither one of you survived, to be entirely clear.”

”Am I a clone? With Charles Xavier’s memories?”

”Clones don’t inherit memories. Do you know who you are?”

“I know I was an old, tired man. I know the world was ending, and I died in the arms of my dearest companion.”

The Sentinel made another sound of ‘joy’, the trilling of a small bird, or a velociraptor.

”How many times.. have you tried? Am I one of many failures?”

”Yes, but success is all that matters now. We have many questions for you, and I’m sure you for us, once you are settled. Once you have seen Magneto.”

Erik, Erik with all his vicious imperfections and grandiose ideals. How he felt pangs of longing for him, his heart and groin throbbed, making him wince and flush with color.

Lust? Not now, not with Erik. Not in years. He was a friend, this was only the dysfunction of the situation.

“I’m sure you have noticed by now, that there are physiological changes with your body.” The Sentinel, expressionless with its mechanical faceplate, devoid of human features, made him shudder.

“You mentioned ‘an asset’ in the recovery of the mutant race.” Charles frowned deeply, his face a doll’s mask compared to the hard lined creases of his older self.

”They were ‘your children’ afterall.”

Charles shrunk back into the pillows on the bed. So this room, this modern and sparsely furnished cell, was a zoological study in breeding a line of mutants through himself and Erik. If Erik was indeed himself, if he also had memories of their past.

”Is Erik awake?” Charles was defensive, but imploring.

”He woke when you did, but he was alone. We hoped you would approach him first. It was said only you could contain his strength. In written legend that is, through word of mouth of first hand encounters.”

“Is anyone else.. still alive? Surely, other mutants were long lived, some immortal.”

The Sentinel seemed hesitant to speak, but bowed gently.

”All from your time have left this physical realm. Indeed, if we are all but energy, we go to the same place. Both Sentinels and Organics.”

Charles couldn’t argue that, not with the bizarre limitless dreamscapes of his ethereal ‘soul’ venturing forth through the cosmos, perhaps carried like a lofty cloud with the hopes and dreams of mutant kind.

”Please, show me to Erik.”

The Sentinel nodded, bowing deeply before exiting the room without another word. Charles had more questions, but more burning was his desire to see his soul mate. That’s truly who he was, and if his soul was carried by all the descendents of those who loved and knew them, then so did Charles guide Erik with him to this place.

Erik’s consciousness was hovering at the edge of his presence. Without realizing, the thrum of it had been there since his waking. The music, the comfort, it had been the rhythm of their minds mingling. A thought of a distant place, a memory vanquished from reality, lost now, to the tragedy of long lived existence. The pain of surviving when all others faded from time.

A door then formed on the wall of Charles’ room, the seam growing and then expanding to a size that could be walked through. As he watched it grow, pressure made it hiss as it suddenly expanded then retracted, sliding into the wall seamlessly. A new square room, identical to his except for a harnessed table stood across from him, and in the corner Charles could see his old friend - young and spry as he was, crouching in the corner.

Erik was watching the door with the expression of a stalking jaguar, eyes unblinking. His brows were furrowed and his teeth clenched in anticipation. He stopped and jerked in surprise at Charles walking through the entrance.

“Charles?” he asked, voice as small as a kitten's whisper. “Is it really you?”

“It is, old friend.” Charles replied, palms spread in an expression of openness, showing that they were both there dressed only in the simple clothes provided.

Erik rose from his hunched pose and towered over Charles. His eyes were sharp and cold, and his cheekbones could be used as weapons. His lips were flat with anger.

“My god, what have they done to you?” Erik twisted his head to either side, narrowing his eyes at one large hand, staring at the lineless surface for several seconds before turning to look down at the Professor. He placed his big, warm hands on his smaller friend’s shoulders.

They embraced. It was different from the last time they had held each other. This one was a reassurance of identity, and Charles couldn’t help but run his hands over Erik’s sides and his back. When Erik had worn a cape and other coverage for battle, the weight had developed the muscles. They still felt strong but lacked specific purpose.

“This body is garbage.” Erik frowned, and Charles had no doubt that this was his friend, even if he were not a telepath.

“You’re complaining about having our lives back?” Charles shook his head. “Its a shock to me to walk on sturdy legs . I never thought I’d experience it again.”

Erik straightened up but kept his hands on Charle’s shoulders. “Forgive me, but even if you were paralyzed, your powers were beyond comparison.”

The larger man looked morose for a moment before snapping back into anger.

“We died, Charles. We died!” He emphasized his point with a squeeze. “What is the meaning of this?”

“It seems we are returned to this mortal coil to help these…people. I was speaking with some hybrid Sentinel. They informed me that we saved mutant-kind. And humanity.”

Erik was listening, nodding solemnly. He always paid close attention to Charles, always knew where he was hiding double meanings behind simple statements. It was in this way that they had even developed a kind of secret language that the X-men had never caught on to. Even the telepaths.

The language of friendship was the smallest quirk of an eyebrow. The brief flush of anger.

“Why are we being contained then?” Erik looked from side to side. “If we were such heroes..” he sneered. “We should be celebrated through-out the ship.”

“But we aren’t here to be heroes. We are lab rats. They’ll be keeping us here for some time just to watch us and poke us for their entertainment.”

Charles could only nod sadly in reply. “So far the evidence points to your conjecture being the most accurate. Our bodies being made to these specific sizes and ages feels most peculiar.”

Erik folded his arms across his chest and Charles couldn’t help but miss the heat of their embrace.

“I feel like an old man still… I prefer my broken body. This young one just brings bad memories.”

Something about the reminder - of their time collaborating, saving young mutants and hunting war criminals. It made Charles feel extremely soft, and he felt a great glow of gratitude that the other man was here. Something in his face made Erik concerned, and the wonderful big hands returned to his shoulders again.

Charles embraced him once again and the two fell silent, the shock of their discoveries and the awkwardness of new bodies removed, the two were touching again for comfort and also because memories were crashing back. All of their fights, their painful quarrels, the children lost and the world saved. They had survived so much. If they could stay together without killing each other, they would get through this as well.

Erik took a deep breath. He’d been too distracted by the small stature of a man he’d known throughout most of his life, longer than he hadn’t known him. Charles had been 17, and he in his early twenties when they’d met, but the Charles before him seemed much more petite and thin than he remembered.

”Why are you so small?” Erik asked, concern painted in hard lines on the aquiline features. Stone would crumble under the scrutiny of those silver eyes. He put a hand on either side of Charles’ hips, moving around to observe his back and shoulders.

“I beg your pardon? Why are YOU so huge?” Charles scoffed, offended by the blunt quality of Erik’s manhandling and judgement. Charles only then realized they’d been speaking aloud to one another, and with a sense of paranoid dread he moved their conversation to the internal.

It was incredible to allow himself inside of Erik’s mindscape. How they coalesced seamlessly into a resolute, calm, collected creature. This is what the Sentinel had been alluding to when it’d spoken of control. He was the only person who could ever stop Erik, or distract him from his goals.

Their eyes met, and they both stared wide eyed into one another’s faces. From this perspective they could see their own faces in their mind’s eye, and the reflection of unfamiliarity made them both recoil.

”Damn it, Charles.” Erik said, raising a hand to his face in disbelief. The telepath in turn was touching his own cheeks, his slender throat.

”I’m trying to remain optimistic, this could be a good thing.”

”In what way?” Erik countered, their mouths thin and unmoving. Charles wondered if there were telepaths watching. However, if he could not feel them, then by god they could not feel him. His consciousness was a dense web of hair-trigger strings ready to relay any movement other than Erik. There was none.

”We’re being observed, but not by telepaths. No organic life. At least not from here, they’re using a blocking mechanism to keep me contained.”

”Luckily they have no way to hinder my abilities.”

They relayed information, the Blue star, the Sentinel and its appearance, the brief conversation with the creature, and Magneto’s venture into the structure of the ship carrying them through the depths of space. They were indeed nowhere near the place Earth used to be. Light years away from Sol and the familiar solar system.

Through Erik, Charles felt the electromagnetic charges of Organics throughout the ship. Aha! With the guidance of Erik through the telepath blockers he could sense, feel hundreds of thousands of organic creatures surrounding them in a hive-like structure.

Charles was shocked, he pulled his consciousness back, reeling for a moment, realizing he and Erik had been holding one another the entire time they’d resonated.

”There are.. many creatures aside from Sentinels on this ship. In fact, the Sentinels seem to be the minority.” Erik said, catching Charles’ eye as the smaller man pulled away.

“They’re mutants, I think, but I can’t read minds with the extension of your powers alone.” Charles felt heartache and relief. It was true, Earthlings, mutant Earthlings, had taken to the stars and etched out an existence. How wide and far reaching, he did not know, but the knowledge they’d not died in vain settled the existential dread he’d felt since waking. Still, he could not shake that something felt inherently wrong.

”You felt them. Coursing with blood or other viscous fluids, brains, nervous systems, ventricular systems. They’re living and breathing.”

”The ones who do breathe.”

”It’s incredible to contemplate, Charles.”

”We did it? Congratulations?” Charles felt naive, but he couldn’t help but be happy, in some sense. Couldn’t he allow himself a chance to rejoice?

No, there was something off. Especially with the expectations of Erik and he to.. to.. mate?

Erik caught Charles eyes, silver and baby blue exchanging a knowing and solemn stare. Charles swallowed, not ready to broach the subject mentally or verbally. Magneto seemed on the verge of an explosive outrage, but Charles did his best to cool and soothe the overwhelming waves of disgust and hatred ebbing from his companion towards their captors. Loathing, disbelief, horror.

As if sensing this great disturbance, a gentle chime echoed throughout the shared space he and Erik were being housed. It continued, a balm intent on easing the tension between them. At least, Charles felt mild ease. Erik, however, was prepared to rip the beds off the floor, or rip the walls apart. There was metal, oh there was plenty of metal outside this room. He could do a plethora of things, he could mangle the whole vessel and sail it into the sun, he could crush the fuel containers or dismantle the intricate wiring.

“Erik! Please-“ Charles broke through the homicidal rage, begging, pleading with his friend’s mind to be calm. To know peace, if only to get them through this together, not to throw away opportunities when they confronted them. Let him be angry, but do not ignite, do not act out until we understand who and what we are dealing with, the risk is too high.

Erik crossed his arms and closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the outside world as he continued to threaten the ship’s integrity with the pulse of his abilities. If they WERE watching, they would know now who they were fucking with.

Charles was incapable of reaching Erik like this, he could grab the reigns, surely, but he didn’t want to force his friend, not when he knew what they were up against. Erik could feel every Sentinel and feel its heart pulse. They knew Erik was not merely magnetokinetic but electromagnetokinetic. The way Charles was in minds, his counterpart was in the wiring.

And there it was. A tug on his strings, like an insect’s wing, caught in the web.

Charles’ eyes shot to the opposite wall, where the Sentinel had left. There was a presence, an Organic presence, and it was licking ever so gently against his mind. It was odd, strange, like the brush of distant wings, paper like and transparent. Delicate. He could crush them if he tried.

”As cliché as it is, we mean you both no harm.” A voice spoke through the thrumming beat of wings. Dragonfly wings, millions of them. Billions. Trillions.

Charles was sure Erik could also hear the voice as he was broadcasting outward as much as he was absorbing in from his old friend. Magneto and he stood side by side, watching the door.

”You’re a telepath?” Charles asked the formless voice, the beating of insect wings a greater distraction than he would like.

“Yes! I’m a descendant of one of your dear students, Jean Grey, though her history is very controversial.” The voice sounded slightly melancholy.

Jean, Scott, Logan, Hank.. Raven.

Names and faces so far removed from this existence it pained him, broke his heart into pieces that he dared not pick them up in respect for the dead.

“There are bloodlines? Lineages?”

”Oh yes, we’re quite thorough about record keeping. I’m her Grandchild 5,000 times removed.”

“Her children prospered?“

”And her clones.” The voice was quick, nervous.

”Ah, so you do clone us. We are just clones, then?”

”That’s not entirely true for the two of you, it’s a very different situation.” The voice was losing confidence.

”Would you care to elaborate?” Charles and Erik’s consciousness was alert, but the voice seemed meek, unsure of itself.

”May we speak face to face?” The voice questioned.

”I would like that very much.” Charles answered, holding back the immense scorn and distrust from the half of his that was Erik’s psyche.

”Please, restrain your friend. I’m afraid of him, and I really mean you no harm. In fact, I’m very thrilled to meet you in person.”

The voice vanished, and Charles felt the consciousness fade. The insect wings retreated, and they were left in quiet solitude for a momentary pause.

As before, a line formed from the ceiling to the floor before shifting apart to reveal the doorway and a very petite, bubblegum colored alien emerged.

Very unassuming, like the Sentinel. Cream colored hair, bushy eyebrows, large eyes thinned to slits in a fox-like grin, with two large horns on either side of her forehead. She was also sporting what appeared to be at least two pairs of ears. Despite this, she was well put together, demure and seemingly harmless in nature.

The alien ‘girl’ bowed deeply, her actions mirroring the Sentinel’s from earlier. Some variation of Earth gestures, long since translated into new form with old meaning. To show honor, reverence. Charles gave a short bow back, and the girl blushed.

”Oh, it is an honor! A true honor!” She exclaimed, blustered by the offering of such a ritual.

”Professor Charles Xavier,” she said, looking to Charles with outstretched hands, then to Erik, “and Magneto! Welcome to your new reality.”

”A new reality? Have we crossed universes again?”

”Again? Oh no, nothing of the sort. Only now, you are in a new life. A new reality. You're here and now reside in OUR here and now. It's wonderful!”

Erik looked annoyed, raising one eyebrow at the antics. He was still there, arms crossed, looking at Charles with thinning patience.

”Are we in a simulation? Is this a sub-reality?” Charles moved towards the alien, who stepped forward as well, holding out a hand.

”I am Xiji. And this is my home. Well, not MINE, I live here. I’m part of her, and she is of me.” The girl, Xiji, shook Charles hand when he offered. Her skin was soft, but covered in a thin fuzz like a bee or plush moth.

”A hive? For your species? I thought you were related to the late Jean Grey?”

”Yes! My ancestor, but since then mutants have bred profusely with my species, at least in this part of the universe.”

”This part? How far have humans reached?” Charles was wide eyed, Erik’s demeanor and expression remained unchanged.

”Humans? Oh, all around, maybe a few galaxies worth. Nothing compared to the Sentinel forces. Now they know how to propagate! My species could learn a thing or two from them.”

Charles was amassing more questions than answers he could accurately comprehend with his little knowledge of this place and time.

”Xiji? Is it? Dear? May I.. Well the thing is. You’re an organic, and if you are part Jean, part mutant at least, perhaps it would be easier if I could, peek around?”

“In my mind? Oh surely, yes, yes! I was chosen for this specific purpose.”

The conversation switched internally, and Charles could hear the raucous clashing of insect wings, the thrumming buzz of the trillions of drones peppered across the cosmos. Their span was exponential, and quite dizzying.

Charles brushed against the alien’s mindscape, feeling the aura like heat from a star’s light. It was a pulsing, kaleidoscope of sentient life. He pushed forward, slipping through the veil into an alien mind in search of context, information, truth.

It was a buzzing hive, just as he had suspected. Her internal compulsion and motivations were where the greatest concentration of energy was gathered, like a brood tending to its young. Thoughts were running in trajectories that carried thousands of independent concepts and ideas. It was dizzying to contemplate a mind so different from his own. If every human’s psyche was a room, this one resembled a great ant colony exhibit that he might see in a zoo.

Her voice rose up internally from the hissing thousands closest to him.

“How do you find my mind, Professor X?”

Charles squeezed his eyes shut. “It's wonderful. So strange and beautiful, I honestly can’t keep track of where your consciousness is - it's so busy.”

A series of squeaks indicated she was giggling. “Oh, we did that on purpose. We don’t want you prying too much while your body recovers. We can send in others over time.”

“Others?” Charles made his own mind feel like the gentle fall of warm summer rain.

“Besides the Sentinels, there are thousands of mutant alien hybrids like me - but I’m the only spawn of the Hive to live here on the ship.”

“I see.” he swallowed a wave of nausea trying to keep up with the frantic pace of all the hive moving as one. He returned to his own mind and shook it.

He gratefully opened his eyes, happy to wrap himself around the grounding presence of Erik, who was making the air around him hum softly with electromagnetic charge.

The pink alien perked up and smiled wide. “We have just woken you up and let you coalesce with each other. Now that connection has been made - we need to assess your physical health.”

She projected to Charles, showing a tube that looked like a refined MRI. His face showed his displeasure.

“Please.” She spoke out loud, “It would be good to make sure you are healthy.”

“Why not scan us while we were unconscious?” Charles questioned, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling the softness of his young form.

“It has to do with you waking up - all of your synapses fired at once when your mind and memories returned. There is always a chance that something can go wrong - the medical team just wants to make sure everything is okay.”

“No.” Erik’s voice felt like a knife cutting the electrons in the air. It contained power and fury that Charles was well familiar with.

“No tests, no exams, no lab rats. Do you hear me?”

Xiji’s eyes widened and she took a fearful step back. She was shaking badly but Charles couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for her. Erik’s fury was contagious as he thought about the organs in his body that he had not consented to, and the small frame that he was inhabiting.

Their cage - or rather the room they were in shook, and a piercing siren began to alarm.

“You dare.” Erik was moving to grip Charles and pull him close, a hard barrier between Xiji and himself. “To bring us back, to make demands of us when we never asked for anything! You are a simple child, made to be the harmless puppet that your command can coddle us with, so you will be granted some mercy.”

Erik took another step forward as the alien girl looked like she was trying to feel for a panel on the wall behind her.

“You can’t flee yet, child.” Erik purred. “I’m not done yet.”

He looked up. “To the cowards above me, I expect to be released from this place and both Charles Xavier and myself will assess what your supposed needs are.”

Charles hissed through his teeth. “Stop it, Erik! You always escalate things! This isn’t just about us, we are talking about an alien civilization - they want to make sure we are safe before they expose us to their world.”

“You don’t believe that do you?” Erik replied, voice darkened with the stratified years of disappointment and betrayal flashing through his mind.

“Its too soon to tell.” Charles projected his answer into Erik’s mind. “Please, calm yourself.”

“I am calm.” The reply was pure Magneto at that moment. Immediately after, the gravity seemed to shift and Xiji cried out, trying to grip the wall.

“Erik! Whatever you are doing, stop it!”

“How ridiculous is it for Sentinels and Aliens to bring me, Erik Lehnsherr, back to life in a place that has artificial gravity, metal components in their engines and an entire ship powered by electricity?”

“And then! To do this to my friend, my dearest friend, while expecting he would HANDLE me?”

The sharp white teeth that Charles had grown wary of were out, Erik’s lips pulled back in a maniacal grin.

“Insufferable conceit. And stupidity. I can only surmise one thing - you are playing with us. Toying. And I must ask - why?” Charles felt Erik’s arm wrap around his shoulders and the gravity controls for the ship shorted and they floated up.

Xiji’s eyes were the size of oranges. “Please.” She cried out. “We do not mean to insult you! It has been so long, and there are no more humans alive - no more mutant humans. We only know your history through the stories told by their descendants!”

Erik’s cold silver eyes turned to her.

“Is she telling the truth, Charles?”

“Yes, of course.” the smaller man replied.

“Is it true, girl?” Erik did not blink once as he interrogated her. “Are all the humans gone?”

She nodded quickly and then touched her chest. “The Sentinels have searched far and wide for any survivors but until you two were revived there have not been any humans alive for several millennia.

“The Sentinels.” Then the taller man looked down at Charles, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Did you hear that Charles? They’ve been looking SO hard for survivors. How does that sound familiar?”

Xiji looked between them, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry to have offended you.” she spoke quickly. “We don’t need to do exams. We can just ask you to tell us if there is anything wrong. I-I didn’t think it would be…so upsetting.”

Charles held up his hands, elbowing Erik hard and shooting him a telepathic kick to the balls.

“Turn the gravity back on, you fool!”

Their bodies all dropped like sacks of flour as gravity suddenly returned. Xiji was quick on her feet and rubbing her hands nervously, body quivering.

Charles was the least coordinated but Erik caught him and held him as though he were a prize rooster, tucked under his arm. He scrambled out of the hold, cheeks burning with the strange tingling sensation pulsing across his body and also fury at the casual manhandling he was receiving.

“I do…feel strange.” Charles admitted, making a face as his companion whirled to stare, eyes darting across his form. “This body feels much more sensitive. Though I could also be shocked by the lack of paralysis.”

Xiji nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, that is the nerve connection we are talking about. I.. I will wait for you to tell me more.”

Charles was taken aback, considering the intricate rewiring his body must have undergone to reach it’s current state. He’d probed the girl’s mind for information about their resuscitation, but found more relevant information was relayed by the Sentinel he’d met upon waking. Erik was right to assess the Organic girl was a peace offering, or a deliberate tool to manipulate them into a false sense of security.

While Charles was willing and ready to play along for the sake of a second chance, he could feel the resolute, maddening force of Erik’s sheer will to resist entrapment and dissection so much so he would sacrifice himself, Charles, and the entirety of the ship if all seemed lost. That was how immense and weighted the power of his fury, his fear. For in truth, he was terrified.

Charles took his friend's hand, pressing a thumb into the veins at his wrist, allowing their heartbeats to catch up with one another, and join in rhythm. Erik was calm, subdued, and Charles could speak squarely with the girl.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to separate the two of us, and I’m not quite certain I’m comfortable with crawling into a tube to be monitored. Tight spaces and all.”

”Oh, yes! You had an entire planet to traverse, a sky, mountains, a non-toxic saline ocean. So you're very used to large spaces, yes?”

”I suppose so.” Charles was noticing a trend with her way of speaking, condescending without meaning to be, mostly out of lack of knowledge of their brief existence in the long line of history, but also as if Erik and he were children.

”You’re going to have to stop treating us like toddlers. I’m not sure why you find us so sensitive, but I can assure you we are both feeling quite aware and potent. We both seem to have full use of our powers if Erik’s actions are anything to go by.”

The bubblegum pink alien girl was nodding, Xiji’s hair a mess from bowing and nodding and nervous panic. She pressed at the wall behind her from time to time, trying to discern if she could easily escape.

Erik was clawing at the cage, chomping at the bit, the proverbial wolf snarling behind the door. Charles allowed his pulse to guide Erik’s back to a serene throb. The walls of the ship were still humming with tension from the magnetokinetic. Charles was driving, but Erik was in the back with a shotgun should the need arise.

“Please, you have questions, yes? May we, may we sit down?” The girl motioned to Charles’ side of the room, which had a small chair across from the bed. She nodded in reference to the area, encouraging Charles to relax.

”We’re not having afternoon tea, we’re discussing our situation. It might be best if you-“

”Take us to command or I’ll dismantle the nuclear core of the ship.” Erik said, cool and calm, and Charles looked horrified.

”Erik!” He hissed aloud. “We don’t need your antagonizing our captors!” He echoed through their minds.

”There are more Sentinels than you think, Charles.” Erik said, tremors of fear in chemical waves, pheromones in the air. He could smell the tinge of anxiety in Erik’s sweat. Hell, how could he smell Erik’s sweat in the first place? Every aspect of it, the musky note, dulled by his youthful body, the sweetness of glucose in the blood, the tin astringency to that blood. Iron, hard, wet iron. Not rust, but sweet wet steel, kissed by winter cold, thawed by breath.

Charles put a hand over his face, over his mouth, covering his nostrils at the sudden bombardment of nausea. No, not nausea, but a lurching sensation in his groin that made him reel, double over in pain, no, not pain. He shook, his hands still gripping Erik’s firmly, the contact, the pulsing of Erik’s heartbeat.

Charles, lapsing in cognitive abilities for the briefest of moments, lost control of Erik who ripped open the wall of the room like a can opener on tin, peeling back the would-be door, exposing a long, well lit room full of researchers. None looked like they could share an animal kingdom, let alone a species, and Erik realized the situation was indeed, very dire.

The room of aliens watched in abject horror, the metal, polymer, entire casing of their would-be cell pushed aside like a house of cards. Charles was shaking, still crouched on his knees. He could smell the heated fury in Erik’s blood, and his own very real discomfort.

”What did you DO to us?!” He screamed, to no one in particular, rage, desperation, looking for answers, for a how and why and when. It did not come.

There was a flurry of screams around the room as the reality of a very angry, omega level mutant in a small enclosed container in the vacuum of space hit them all. Xiji was still in the cell, on the opposite wall, staring in horror, her worries well beyond her pay grade. She was waiting for an opportunity to slip out, but the magnetokinetic was furiously sending the room into chaos.

”Don’t KILL, Erik!” Charles hissed, glaring at his friend, shaking with clattering teeth.

“I can’t stop them from getting in the way of any projectiles.”

”Erik, you must STOP!” Another grasp on Magneto’s wrist, shaken off this time, replaced with Erik’s strong arm lifting him up, stepping through the hurricane of shrapnel that contained them like a moving, shredding, double helix vortex. It was frightening as a blender on legs, moving through the ship, collecting more shrapnel as it went.

”There are more Sentinels, Charles..” He said, silver eyes intent on the bridge of the ship. “Because this entire structure, the hallways, the cantina, the hospice..” They were scaling their way from floor to floor, led by no one and nothing other than Erik’s instincts. To the bridge, to the command deck, to the captain’s quarter. All the while, aliens, the lot of them hybrids, some humanoids in a rainbow of colors. Scales, rubber skin, slimes, insectoids, mechanical hybrids of non-Sentinel make. And yet, not a creature like the two of them, with two eyes sat firmly above a nose in the center of their face, with wet pockets for mouths, full of dainty white, pearly teeth. Fascinating little apes, an extinct species grown in a vat for the good of mutantkind.

”Erik! Please..”

They reached an impossibly large space, with dozens of floors extending up a transparent elevator. At the top sat what appeared to be the command deck, a good thirty stories from where they’d been housed. In this massive interior however, stood momentously large windows staring into the void of space. Only it wasn’t so much of a void at all, as a large, minty blue colored gas giant hovered precariously in view, two moons visible this time of day dancing across its surface. The planet was circled with a mechanical ring far as the eye could see, with drop ships deploying to and from the hangers. A mining operation.

The command center was a skyscraper’s distance from the floor of their compact prison. Erik was all fury, a door hot, the handle scalding, from the roiling flames on the opposite side. Erik was protecting him in the only way he knew how, and with every new sight and spectacle on the ship, he grew more assured that they needed Erik’s power and unpredictability. And that they must, at all costs, remain psychically connected, on a closed network of Charles’ making.

“This entire ship is one giant Sentinel.” Erik growled through gritted teeth, their feet bare as he hovered up, up, frighteningly up, to hover in the center of the command room, almost empty, dark, save for Sentinel’s lined like attack dogs on either side of a very large, intimidating pair of eyes, watching from the ceiling. Large, deep, hollow eyes that ebbed red light like the fires of hell. Charles knew that deep, frightening fire. The dragon’s breath flame of a Sentinel’s heart.

The eyes stared from the ceiling, Sentinel guards unmoving, waiting.

”Clever as to be expected of a hailed hero, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr.” There was a disembodied voice protruding from the dark, from the area of the glowing, ever watchful eyes. They shifted, from Charles, shaking and panting Charles, to Erik, who was doing his own share of sweating in discomfort.

”I’d have you use my chosen name. Magneto.”

”Very well, Magneto, you have discovered our existence. But you know nothing of our truth. What good is this display if you aren’t aware of this reality?” The eyes dislodged themselves from above and a large, obelisk skull protruded from the ceiling on a neck of wire and cords. The entirety slithered and moved with ease, looking every bit like a moray eel, dangling with open maw, awaiting prey.

”I demand that you explain to us what is going on, not spoon feed us fairy tales and fables.” Erik was booming now, the familiar tone and cantor of his rallying speeches on Earth.

The Sentinel's great red eyes clicked, as if looking through the two of them.

“It has been millenia since the Earth, humanity and mutant’s original home was destroyed. At first, our directive was the same as always. Protect humans and destroy the mutant threat.”

Charles felt Erik tense and he held onto his larger friend, gripping him for control and support. They were silent, contemplating the end again. Somehow, within all the ships that were escaping, someone had brought Sentinels with them. How terrible a thought, that even as the world was ending and survival depended on mutual trust and support, there were still people who couldn’t let go of the fear of mutantkind.

“But then, it came to us as a revelation. If mutants are humans, then humans could be mutants. Dormant. One generation away from exhibiting characteristics. In the end, mutant kind is the next step of human evolution. Therefore, humans must be protected from themselves.”

Charles gasped. “You killed all of us off. Didn’t you?”

The Sentinel did not blink or twitch, it merely observed them, the sounds of the machinery pumping filling the empty silence. “We did not seek to kill humans. However, our attempts at preserving their life and protecting them were met with constant resistance. There were casualties, more than necessary. The birth rate could not meet the demands of a dying race.”

The Sentinel head rose and stretched, as if accessing some buried memory.

“It became a matter of survival to inter-breed with alien species that were compatible with the human genome. Cloning helped - somewhat.”

Long metal appendages appeared out of the sides of the head, a dozen fingers on each hand, reaching for them and blocked by the magnetic field around Erik. The metal dented and bent, but still seemed intent on touching them.

“Now there are barely half or quarter humans, and our purpose is fading. We cannot let this stand. With our clones being re-created, their lifespan shrank and their powers dwindled.”

Erik’s eyes were as wide as saucers and his teeth were bared in rage.

“You can’t duplicate us the way you make your copies. We aren’t machines - we are only meant to have our one life. ONE! If we had more we would be gods!”

The glowing eyes faded slightly, re-shaping their bent fingers to tuck together. “And yet, we have brought you back. In bodies made from your own genetic batter. With small tweaks here and there.”

Charles flushed red. He found his voice, “Why me?” He asked bluntly. “Of everyone why me and why Erik?”

Erik looked down at him and stared, an uncomfortable buzzing beginning to bleed into Charles’ mind. His friend wanted to know what had happened to him. How could he even start?

“You and Magneto,” the Sentinel’s fingers opened and began to whir, a projection appearing before them. “Were discovered soaring in your solar system. We were instantly attracted to your location due to the unique magnetic measurements and the strange trajectory your cocoon took.”

Cocoon? Charles did not have any idea what they were speaking of. The machine seemed to understand his confusion and continued.

“There are metals of Earth. And there are metals not of Earth. Vibranium, Adamantium, Promethium, Mysterium - all from stars far away from yours brought on asteroids and by travelers. A metal cocoon of sorts was discovered, 150 meters long and 50 meters wide. It was an alloy of all these metals, fused through pressure without heat. Incredible force was used to compact everything and the resulting creation is being studied by alien civilizations across the Galaxy.”

The projection showed the smooth shape of what looked like a pill. It was perfectly rounded as though it had been caught and molded in a magnetic flux diagram. Charles tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat. That was Erik. It was his final action as they both died - to seal them together in this hardened case.

“This abnormality in Earth's original solar system of course caught our interest once we discovered it. It had been on its way out of the solar system - past the celestial body of Pluto, before it turned back. The path it had been on should have pushed it beyond the gravitational pull, but almost like a starship, it turned around.”

“We collected it at once, and had great difficulty in opening it or scanning the interior.” The Sentinel projected several alien species, all touching the metal, with Sentinels blasting the surface with cutting lasers.

“It took us decades to open it. The material used for the cutting process had to be mined from a gas planet that pressurized elements into diamonds. What a surprise then when it finally opened and we found your almost pristine bodies inside.”

The metal cracking open was displayed and Charles and Erik both stared aghast at their bodies mummified, burned, still holding each other. Their skin and hair, the scars, everything was still visible, after all those years. Charles felt a wave of nausea, seeing his corpse displayed after such a long journey through the stars.

“We of course, immediately extracted genetic material and began the process of rebuilding you. It would have been different if you were incinerated or exposed to radiation…but…”

The machine’s fingers tightened back into themselves and the projection was dropped. “Your coffin was most expertly created.”

Erik looked ready to begin a new rant on the propriety of disturbing a burial place that had been intentionally created as impenetrable, but he was stopped by the next revelation.

“We Sentinels have never observed an afterlife, though humans strongly believe in souls. We have not seen any evidence of this place, nor have we seen a thing called ‘ghosts’. This is an old tale from humans before they understood certain realities. However, when we studied the strange path this metal tomb was taking, it seemed to be steering out of the way of collisions and gravitational traps. It had some kind of pilot. If you were not infusing your human consciousness in this metal, then how can we explain it?”

Both men were silent. Erik, because he seemed to be reviewing his ancient memories, and Charles, because he could believe that his oldest friend would be so stubborn as to fuse his mind into the strange and magical alloys of metal, keeping them safe even after death.

Charles was very aware of Erik’s hand wrapped around his waist, the heat and heartbeat from him as he was held before the monster machine. Erik had done that for them, in his last moments. And he had given him the peace of mind to do so, after the end. It was enough to weep, but sadness was wasted in this terrible future. There were not enough tears to go around.

“So.” Charles spoke for both of them. “You have gotten the mutants that you wanted. The pure human mutants that no longer exist. What are you going to do with us? You gave me different reproductive organs. Do you expect us to breed?”

The red eyes burned anew and the long neck stretched forward.

“Our new purpose is to preserve and protect human life. At all costs. We have found a planet, one that is identical to earth, and it will be a beautiful preserve for you.”

Charles looked down at his pelvis and back up. “And we are supposed to be Adam and Eve?” The machine’s neck tilted, as though expressing confusion.

“Yes. We have given you both incredible genetic diversity. You could easily restore humanity, if you begin soon.”

The telepath balked, mind ricocheting over all the metal and circuits before crashing into Erik’s and feeling heat, heat, heat, rage, Charles, rage, Charles, Charles, protect, Charles.

He gasped and clutched his temple and growled. “I am not a woman! Why would you make me one?”

“Magneto’s genetic mutations occur in every single chromosome, having you as the ‘X’ base will stabilize the expression when the children are born.”

Both men spluttered at the dry, scientific explanation and Magneto looked ready to compress the entire ship into a tin can.

“Tell me why I should believe you.” was his clipped request. He held Charles tighter, fear for his friend heightened. “You say we are the only ones. Prove it.”

The machine made a sound almost like a sigh of frustration.

“You may choose not to believe me. But we will give you access to the interstellar network tomorrow. There you may read the collective data on human’s fate as dictated by the Galaxy federation.”

Charles pressed his hand to Erik again, feeling his friend’s muscles seizing in repressed emotion.

We should wait, my friend. I am not in any shape to suddenly jettison through the stars.

Erik looked down, bright eyes glazed with power and concern.

Please, I don’t want to die again. Not like this. Charles caught his attention with the desperate statement and reached up, hand settling on a tense shoulder. He found his voice in the quiet void left behind Magneto’s rage.

“If we listen to you, I want your assurance that we will no longer be kept like specimens. Let’s say we continue to follow your plan - we go to this planet and re-start a human civilization, I refuse to be kept like mice in a lab.”

Charles paused and revised. “If you get the meaning behind that sentiment?”

The red glowing eyes brightened, scanning him carefully.

“I am the host for this ship and the Sentinel control, I guarantee that you will be given living quarters and space that is identical to the other denizens onboard.”

“Are they your toys, as well?” Magneto’s voice growled with electric crackle.

The mechanical head swiveled and paused. “They are all a part of the crew. The Galactic Federation is not just Sentinel. It is a conglomeration of civilizations that all agree to work together. In a way, the Sentinels are the true legacy of humanity - for in our creation, you have made one of the strongest contributors to interstellar peace. We obey Federation laws and carry its citizens aboard all of our vessels.”

The head then slowly retracted, seemingly pleased with the interaction between them and hummed.

“Your impression of this project being Sentinel led is erroneous. We are stakeholders. The Galactic Federation itself is interested in your revival and proliferation.”

Both men looked between each other and then the machine, confused.

“Why would they care?” Charles asked, emotionally drained from the neverending series of revelations.

“That is a complex answer. Each member has different ideas of what your capabilities will offer them.”

They hovered, Charles still tucked against Erik, their minds thrashing against each other, a series of fearful projections and suspicion. Charles understood being under a microscope, he had faced the questioning and bias from council, court and government. His powers were so feared that men fled his proximity, and he himself had done his best to drown them out with serum in moments of weakness.

Erik, he was a man who had lived under a scalpel, dissected and tortured for the sake of curiosity. Every vulgarity had been visited upon him, and even though he masterfully compartmentalized, Charles could feel his anxiety. He knew, more intimately than Charles, what their powers inspired in others - the lust for control and greatness, for weapons and wealth.

The Sentinel Head continued, “We only want your kind to prosper again. To give you a new Earth. We are…happy to be the guardians of your new beginnings.”

We will certainly see about that. Charles pinged Erik, and felt his mutual agreement in response.

“We have reached an accord then, Sentinel.” Charles spoke, voice stronger than he felt. “We agree to retire peacefully to quarters and comply with your current plans. However, Magneto and I will both have access to all of your information on the past several millenia and the Galactic Federation and may revise our stance based on the context of what we find. Can you agree to let us be at peace and assimilate into the crew while we do this?”

The machine moved its finger-like extensions in agreement, projecting a map of the ship. It was intricate and massive, like a floating termite colony. A red trail started from what looked like the room they were in, and traced through the ship like a coiling wire. It stopped several floors below and back more than a mile in length.

“We agree to this, Charles Xavier. You should not be afraid of the medbay. Your bodies are new, and your minds are still connecting to the flesh. Nutrition and growth should be monitored and supported.”

“I appreciate your concern. Do you have a designation?” Charles asked, feeling Magneto’s shock and the Sentinel’s as well.

“We do not have the individualism that your species treasures, human. We do not have specific identities.”

“So you are speaking to me as all Sentinels as one?”

“On this ship, yes.”

“Well what is this ship called?” he pushed, his friend’s electromagnetic aura pulsing through it’s structure like a radar, running over every feature.

“This is the 8-ECC IIIXI galactic research vessel. Civilization class, with a crew of over three-thousand organic crew members.”

“8-ECC? Can I call you Becc?” Charles asked, smiling up at Erik’s frown.

Only YOU would anthropomorphize a fucking Sentinel, Charles.

Humor me. I think I’ve earned it.

“You may call me Becc.” The machine replied, its head fully returning to its container, seams filling in and disappearing as it settled in. “Is this suitable for you both?”

Charles nodded, overwhelmed but ready to learn more, while Erik narrowed his eyes and scowled.

“I will follow Charles on this - but if I sense even one of your machines activating in a way that raises my suspicions, I swear to you I will reduce this ship into a pile of scrap and fly it into the sun.”

“Confirmed.” the machine replied, and the eyes dulled as its attention seemed to pull away from them and redirect to the holes that Magneto had punched in each floor on his rampage to the Ship’s core. The two of them floated awkwardly, mulling, emotions ricocheting off of each other.

“Erik, can you take us to where Becc showed us our quarters were? Without destroying everything on the way?” Charles asked, rubbing his forehead with a free hand. “I think I need to sit down. This is all so much.”

“Yes.” his friend echoed hollowly. “I agree. And…I’m not sure what to think of your little exchange. We can talk about it later. Not that anywhere is free of surveillance.”

I’ll let you regain your energy before I berate you. Erik’s frown seemed permanently tattooed across his face.

Chapter Text

The pair stood out as they moved through the hallways, the magnetic pull of Erik’s powers flying them along the same path that the Sentinel master, Becc, had given them. Aliens moved out of the way and pressed against walls at the sight of the two humans, dressed only in medical suits sailing past, with Erik flipping locks and switches in ill-humored haste. No one pursued them, but many stared as if they were witnessing a final leg in the Tour de France as the mutants passed by.

The area where their quarters were located was dimly lit, a soft blue projecting down the floor and sides, reminiscent of the ocean at night. They stopped at last in front of an unassuming portal door, Erik flicking a wrist and the sound of a seal breaking to reveal what qualified as interstellar luxury.

Technology in an era where humanity was not an active member was odd. Symbols dotted certain things, while shapes and colors seemed to denote mechanical purpose. They stepped in and looked around, feeling like a pair of hamsters being introduced to a brand new maze.

“My head aches.” Charles confessed. “There’s just so much…so much to contemplate. To understand.”

Erik slammed the portal door behind them, locks bolting in place. “I can’t even begin to explain - this feels like a dream. A bad one.”

“I know.” Charles rubbed his temples with his fingers. “We really died, Erik.”

His friend stood by his side, mouth pressed down in a grim line. “Yes, I think that we established that. You’re sure this isn’t a mental trap - some kind of psychic prison?”

“I’m sure.” Charles replied. “This is space. And the beings on this ship are alive - they all have minds and consciousness, I can feel them.”

Erik folded his arms, silence filling the air.

Charles wet his lips with a tongue and turned to face his friend. “Is it true, what Becc, what the Sentinel said? Were you somehow alive in that metal? Were we both?”

The question hung between them, and the strange memory of space, of travelling through the cosmos came to them. Neither could trust it as reality, but it lingered like deja vu, or a dream of a past life.

Erik shook his head. “I don’t know, Charles. I honestly don’t know how much we should trust, given everything. We are relying on others to tell us the date, the history, the reality. I’ll be damned if I let a fucking Sentinel be my guide post.”

Charles went back to massaging his head, the throbbing intensifying. He groaned, fingers curling into fists. Red, the pain was red and rolling, like pounding waves on sand. It could be from his powers returning to him, or the strange nauseating dissonance of being around creatures that weren’t human, that had minds that he could not yet understand. How much had he relied on it before, and how unstable was it making him now.

Another wave of pain followed with nausea and he recognized the incoming migraine. Which was fantastic really, on top of everything else. At least the room they were in was dimly lit, so when he closed his eyes there wasn’t any burning light pounding through his eyelids.

“Are you okay? Charles?” The soft concern from his friend hurt to hear and he swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

“Migraine.” he mumbled, head in his hands. “I’ll be okay.”

A hand was on the back of his neck and in the next moment Erik’s palms were rubbing along the thin spine and flesh.

Charles flopped forward and was caught, feeling the touch melt into his body. “Oh. That feels nice, Erik. My head hurts so badly.”

Another hand joined its partner and Charles felt awareness flee from everything except the two warm palms gently rubbing his trapezoid and splenius cervicis muscles. Thumbs rubbed up his neck to the base of his skull and back down, and he was reminded of how big Erik was.

Magneto could wrap a single hand around his carotid arteries and strangle him so easily. There was a time when that had been a more likely outcome than this. But they had settled everything in the past, hadn’t they? Couldn’t Charles say that there was a clean slate now, after they had died together?

He trusted the man, god help him. Trusted him and knew him, like a brother, like a fragmented soul finding its other piece. Because even though they never agreed, the two had liked each other and respected each other more than anyone knew.

How many times had the terrorist Magneto called him on his private line to beg for help, personal matters involving his own family - his newly discovered children. And how many times had he been saved by Erik, his persona dropped in the moment to protect Charles from danger. Catching him as he ejected from a plane, pulling him from burning rubble. Their eyes were always on each other, always circling.

How they both had wanted to be on the same side, yet neither relenting their principles and philosophies. They were fools. Damn fools.

Charles relaxed and Erik pushed him gently forward.

“Don’t open your eyes. Just follow my lead - there’s a bed ahead of you.” He took a few shaking steps and stopped, directed by Erik’s hand. “Now you can lie down. Lay on your stomach.”

Charles felt blindly and touched a soft surface, crawling onto it and obeying his friend. He swallowed and another wave of pain hit.

“Easy.” Erik guided his arms to his sides and he felt the surface move as his companion took a position beside him. His warm touch returned to Charles’ back and neck, strong fingers moving the flow of blood in his body.

“You might need to sleep, Charles.” Erik’s breath was on his neck, a whisper by his ear. “I’m going to help you. But rest if the sensation comes. Sleep is always the best remedy.”

“I know.” Charles whispered back. He shivered as Erik’s palms moved down past his shoulder blades and back up again.

Hey, Erik? Do you remember when you tried to crush me with my own wheelchair? He wanted to joke at this moment, because it would keep him from feeling the uncomfortable truth of arousal coursing through his body.

Was this in response to his changed reproductive organs? Or was it simply something that had always existed between them, blocked along with true companionship by their own stubbornness and beliefs.

Magneto and Professor X, always at odds, always so strangely connected - the jokes about trysts were on the lips of X-men and Mutant Brotherhood alike. But they had never been true. He and Erik had never consummated more than a budding relationship.

Charles whimpered. Erik’s hands froze at the sound and he could sense the man’s hesitation.

Don’t stop. Charles begged through his mind, and Erik’s mind was an organic wall, muted to avoid stimulating his own as he suffered. But he returned to his ministrations, and Charles suffered through his own arousal and gratefulness.

“Can we be friends?” Charles whispered into the dark room, eyes cracking open to glance over his shoulder at Erik Lehnsherr. The man with that namesake stared back and raised an eyebrow in concern.

“We have always been friends, Charles.”

“No. No.” he shook his head. “Not like before Erik. I mean, in this life. Can we please be friends? No X-Men, no mutant supremacy, just you and me. Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier. Whatever this is, wherever we are - can we live this time as true friends?”

Erik stopped and swallowed. Charles sat up carefully, and took the other man’s hand in his. His head hurt less because of his touch.

“I can promise you that I will live for you, Erik.” Charles felt the man tense, resistance beginning to form as the great Magneto’s face showed fear. “That I will do my best to survive and carry on. That we can get through this together, as true friends. As we should have been all along.”

Blue and grey eyes met and Charles didn’t dare encroach on the other’s psychic privacy as they both felt each other's touch.

“You’re so sentimental, Charles.” Erik complained, a small smile forming on his lips. “Of course I’ll be your friend. Of course I’ll survive and carry on for you. Someone has to take care of you, now that your mansion has been blown up.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“And don’t dismiss me. I said we’ve always been friends. You know everything good I did, I had you in my mind - you, Charles, urging me to do the right thing. To put revenge aside and think of a shared future. I never planned on changing, especially since you are here now. With me.”

A burst of relief was the only excuse Charles had for the wave of tears that fell from his face. He ignored Erik’s eyeroll at his outburst and rubbed his eyes. “Leave me alone, you mean old man.” A laugh burst from his chest.

“Oh, have a tissue, you soft old man.” Erik replied, as he offered his own sleeve to Charles to rub his face with.

Then they both chuckled, crouched together and contemplated the ridiculousness of everything that had been their waking hours.

“I miss them.” Charles admitted. “I wanted them to all grow and have families and do great things.” The X-men fleeing in their shuttle, faces all pressed against the glass, watching them as they sailed towards the Earth’s atmosphere hovered in their memory, and Erik wiped the tears from his friend’s face.

“I know you did.” he replied, soft and low. Charles knew he had wanted the same, and it made him happy. He sniffed and looked up at Erik, the two of them in their younger bodies, like a pair of old trees felled and shooting out suckers in a cycle of rebirth. He let his body fall onto Erik’s chest, and let the other wrap his arms around him, sitting in the silence and being comforted by the warmth and smell of the only familiar being in the entire galaxy.

Either man couldn’t say when, but they both fell against each other, eyes drifting shut as Charles sought refuge from his migraine. They embraced again in the darkness.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely as they laid in each other’s arms. Like quasars filling the heavens with their light, dancing between the ebb and flow of stardust clouds and gravitational rivers, they glided together. Mingling in mind and body, their consciousness blending and blurring. Erik anchored Charles, the eternally dense core to their asteroid. The telepath was contemplating all of the unique and bizarre mindscapes of the aliens on the galactic cruiser colony. Working from closest proximity and moving outward, he would linger, tasting the variety of consciousness. He was beginning to understand how much he could truly compute from the variety of information he was receiving.

Some of them felt young, like sparkling lemonade, filled with joy and excitement. Others were cautious like thick gravy, some were predatory, and the way thoughts and emotions were expressed was like being lost in a crowd where no one spoke the same dialect.

In juxtaposition to Erik he was lapping at the consciousness of the ship, the heart, the soul. If Charles was only reading electronic pulses and chemical changes Erik would be a telepath in his own respect. But the subconscious, the idea of an Oversoul, was there probability in that? The Sentinels were doubtful, but he could not read binary, nor influence them.

And what of the strange tomb he and Erik had traveled throughout the solar system in? Where was it going and who was piloting it? Erik? Was Charles a copilot or merely a passenger? And once obtained by this Federation, how quickly had they traveled hundreds of light years from Earth’s old home?

Charles could recall that journey, he felt weary from it, felt the absence of his mother star and the familiar constellations. From their new quarters they had a small window port that gave them a view of the space outside. They could see out into the expanse of space, the same, large looking gas giant, precariously in view, as if it would swallow them whole. The two of them had stared out at it as sleep had taken them.

Charles swirled in and out of the ship, touching the minds of the pilots diving in mining crafts through the planet’s atmosphere with a brush of his own. Aliens again, never uniform and definitely not human. Still, they felt, they feared, they rejoiced. He pulled back into himself, in the way he did at the old mansion, stretched out in his bed and motivated to check on all of his children.

He felt his bones, and his muscles, cramping from disuse. His skin, warm and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. His hair sticking to his forehead and neck, with breath hitting his jaw.

There was Erik. Frightened and powerful Erik, strong and vulnerable Erik, who still managed to shake in his sleep, even with this new body. They had never slept together before this point, not really. If there had been anything between them as men, it had been kept in the dark recesses of their subconsciousness. Erik’s memories of past lovers were respectfully avoided by Charles, even if there had been some grains of curiosity on his side. As old men, products of the time they were raised in, the people they were meant to be, there had been no exploration of their love. He’d been stoic. Erik had been obsessed. They didn’t share embraces, except in death.

They were the children of war, evolved into Generals. They both had their armies, their battles, their soldiers. They’d suffered their losses, and now instead of the dignity of rest, they were being unearthed like an old weapon that had failed to detonate.

Erik shielded them, only for their sepulcher to be desecrated like a primordial egg. They were petri dish experiments in the flesh, and he wondered what the skeleton of this body was made of? Was it his old, wizened, ancient bones with new meat? Or was he printed and assembled?

They were awfully quiet about it. ‘They’ - being the minds and consciousness around him. Out of everyone on this ship, no one had answers floating around in their heads. Even the researchers meant to observe them were tantamount to zoo keepers, only there to collect data. No, their ‘creators’ were Sentinels, who he couldn’t read, and possibly Organics no longer on this ship, if they existed at all.

They could truly be made in an assembly line of Sentinels, or soaked in a fluid and allowed to solidify. Not knowing how one came into being was disturbing. Especially when it didn’t even suit the structure of your old body.

His body was pulling his mind back into its sheath. It was beginning to twitch, pain melting under his skin and irritating his consciousness out of rest. His pelvis ached, and the center felt like a small molten core boiling him from the inside. It was pulsating along with his heartbeat and pressure was building up inside of him. Charles was throbbing, and unconsciously seeking a surface with his legs to press the heat between his thighs against. It hit a hard surface and he writhed, rubbing the tension out with light pumping from his hips.

A wave of relief hit him as the surface flexed and pressed back, smothering the ache in his core and his fingers grabbed onto it and felt warm skin. It was incredible, if it could just press deeper it could stop that damn throbbing inside of him. His mouth puffed open and released a silent moan as he flexed his hips and worked the hard flesh with his own soft thighs.

A grunt snapped him fully into his body and a hand around his waist, pulling him, made him realize where he was.

Ah, lord in heaven! Charles Xavier had been trying to ride Erik Lehnsherr’s thigh in his fitful sleep. He was grateful he had hair, because he was sure the top of his head was on fire with embarrassment.

Charles opened his eyes shyly to meet Erik’s restrained, quiet features. His friend looked calm, though not at peace. He was sweating and clenching his jaw in a way that made the muscles bulge on the sides. Charles didn’t have to read his mind to tell the arousal was licking at them both, snapping at their heels and shins like a rabid dog.

Holding each other wasn’t helping, but moving was excruciating. He was wrapped around the other man’s leg, soft center wet and hot on his thigh. His body was sensitive, undulating without his meaning to, and he slowly eased his way out of Erik’s arms. There was a definite stain on the medical suit where he had been pressed against, and he was dripping from the mere contact.

Erik strained against the departure, his hands closing on the empty air into fists. He had awoken to the smell of honeyed sex, something he was familiar with, but had been without for some time. It had mixed with the scent of Charles, and the texture of his skin, fine and soft on his. Everything was silk on Charles, always had been. His features had stayed fine and beautiful for his entire life, giving him an almost elven quality. It captivated him, made him guess at what kind of mutation Xavier really had. And now with those deep eyes covered by chestnut curls, and cursed red lips that pressed in disappointment or chewed absently in thought, he felt bewitched. It was just what the damn machines had wanted.

Instinctively he turned away from Charles as the other man withdrew to the other side of the bed. Erik wrapped his arms around his chest, grinding his teeth in frustration, cursing a very painful erection into oblivion. He’d be damned if he was turned on by a body that Sentinels made. He’d be even more damned if he did a damn thing they had plotted out for the two of them - even if it meant giving Charles a pair of adamantium undergarments.

”We’re both suffering, Erik.” Charles said aloud, and Erik shook with the sound of his voice. The soft panting was haunting him, the gentle sound of Charles shifting, grinding against his own thighs. Erik’s own were irritatingly tense, corded.

”We should do something about it.” Erik gritted through his teeth, and Charles gasped, feeling the vibrations of the magnetokinetic deep growl through his body.

”We can’t.. have sex.”

”I know we can’t damn well have sex!” Erik said too quickly, then bit his tongue, frustrated. Smelling the arousal off of a ripe lover had been something to savor in his past, like wine or caviar on a blintz. Of course they couldn’t just go ahead and do it, even if the Sentinels were coercing them, with drugs, with something in the air. Even if it seemed like the potential lovemaking opportunity of the millenia.

There was a shifting noise, and a little light on the wall glowed. A small cabinet opened in the wall, holding a carafe and two glasses with what looked like water. He focused on it as a distraction: atomic composition was dihydrogen oxide. No additives, reverse osmosis, sourced from asteroids in the surrounding system.

Erik rose from the bed, shielding his erection from Charles and poured a glass. He drank like a man parched for his entire life. Technically, it was his first taste of anything, and he choked from the bliss of familiarity. Simple, clean water. He gasped, turning to see Charles standing beside him, lips wet, but searching, his thighs pressed tightly together. Erik turned away, not wanting to prod Charles with his cock, let alone have his friend see it. He handed over the water, and Charles drank deeply, choked in a similar manner, then placed it back down.

The small panel closed, and when it reopened there was another carafe. Erik narrowed his eyes, powers travelling through the conduits of the little wall panel, tracing it from their room to the systems in the ship. He was learning the engineering of it’s massive motherboard, and he could feel sensors in their room that were reporting their vitals back to computers within the Sentinels. He remembered his threat to the giant head that had guaranteed their treatment, and almost felt like tearing a new hole back to confront it - but he dug deeper and could see these sensors in all of the living quarters throughout the vessel.

”They’re monitoring us, STILL. They just monitor everyone organic equally.” Erik said, pointing at the ceiling, a loud snapping and popping noise as some of the devices disintegrated.

”Even if they have cameras of some sort, and we destroy them, they obviously have telepaths. And they might also be in place to monitor general health. The water appearing because we are dehydrated, for instance? We’re inside it, Becc that is, after all.” Charles wrapped his arms around himself, and shivered. He was cold without Erik, and the deep ache was back as well. He wanted those arms to be his friend’s, but he was not about to ask - not when the other man was already painfully hard.

They both took cautious steps away from one another, moving to opposite sides of the room. Erik was trying to meditate, taking himself anywhere but his own body. He folded into a sitting position and clasped his hands together. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. He did not rely on memories or his own feelings but instead focused on the engineering of the ship. Moving along it and figuring out the metallic concentration of iron in each alien’s blood. The Sentinel’s composition and the atomic force creating electrostatic propulsion between protons. How many guns did the ship have? How many escape pods? What did nuclear fission do to the electromagnetic field that generated gravity on the ship?

He was frantically searching and tossing construction and concepts around his mind as he tried not to focus on the fact that Charles was pooling heat and blood in his groin. It was just so…distracting. What did Charles look like with female anatomy? Would it match his lithe body? Was Charles aroused because of him, or just the circumstances? Had they given them extra DNA or crossed it with something to make them both so aware of each other’s smell?

”Maybe we should.. try to just masturbate.” Charles said, looking miserable on his side, legs pressed tight together. He didn’t WANT it. It made Erik feel sick, like he was back in a nightmare and re-living a twisted game. Mocking and belittling the humanity of a Jew or a Mutant. He didn’t want to fuck his best friend, for some Sentinels of all things, to play part in some sort of sick experiment. If he was going to be intimate with Charles, it would be if they both were in control of their faculties, somewhere private, with much better mood lighting.

Charles didn’t deserve to be forced to have HIS progeny, simply because they were the only intact bodies left after drifting across space. What kind of children had he produced up until that point? What kind of father had he amounted to? His legacy was terrifying, sad, charred and dead, bitter and silent.

If this line of thought couldn’t kill his arousal, nothing could. He stared at his dick, which was standing at full attention, humiliatingly trying to escape from his suit pants. This was clearly the result of drugs or meddling, and it was becoming painful.

“Charles?” Erik called out, putting a hand over himself and pressing down. “Are you alright?”

A weak whine was his reply, and panic drifted in, concern for himself pushed to the wayside as the smaller form was hunched over across the room.

“It hurts, it burns deep inside.” Charles moaned out, awkwardly rubbing his thighs together. “It only felt better when…” then the man swallowed, and Erik thought about the wet spot on his pants. “It keeps getting progressively worse. I think we have to orgasm to get relief. Any worse and I might lose consciousness.”

“Shit…” Erik sighed and knocked his head against the wall. Once. Twice. Thrice. He gripped his cock in his pants and felt the same painful throb pass through his body. It felt like getting kicked in the testicles and a wave of nausea almost had him vomiting the water he had consumed earlier. “It’s getting bad for me too.”

“Just…just masturbate. Coitus isn’t needed - I hope.” Charles was awkwardly scooting his body to the opposite wall, still not touching his own privates. It was maddening, and intimidating. Erik understood that Charles loved a good night or day of intimacy with a woman. He loved the taste and smell and feel of a woman, but as a partner, not as a personal trait. Touching it would be an entirely new experience. Like having a stranger’s body.

”If we just ride through this…” Charles was shaking as he spoke, “it will be alright.” He looked up at Erik, deep blue eyes wet with shame, seeking confidence from a stable place. Erik nodded back to him and shot him a comforting smirk.

“It’s certainly nothing to be embarrassed about, these aren’t even our bodies.”

He pulled his cock free from his pants and avoided looking at his friend’s reaction. “Let’s get it over with,” he sighed, wrapping a hand around the swollen head and watching the tip drip beads of pre-ejaculate. Veins bulged out of his phallus as he worked the slick over the skin. With his eyes closed, he thought about the soft pussy that he had felt grinding into his thigh. How warm and tight it would be, how it would take him, how he would lose himself in it. His thighs tightened, intense waves already building and pushing down the pain. Only pleasure remained and his mouth fell open.

Erik was gasping, and Charles thought he was hurting. He sat upright, seeing Erik’s bowed head and his heaving, shaking shoulders. He felt his friend’s orgasm as much as he sensed it, felt it rock through him mentally, then physically . Erik had tried to shut it out but it came with a burst, and Charles reeled, lying back down.

They both groaned, lying in misery on opposite sides of the room, trying to distance themselves from the other, trying their best to mingle mentally to avoid the raw act of sex.

”I’m.. terrified, Erik.” Charles said meekly, flushed and completely red, coated in sweat, freckles pink and dotting his heated skin.

”Of me?”

”No, not you. Never you.” Charles shook his head, out of sight of Erik, but the magnetokinetic felt the emphasis. “Maybe in context to others but.. no.”

”Yourself?” Erik gasped, milking more dry orgasms from his angry manhood. How dare they, whatever they were doing, whatever they did, whoever they were. He’d get Charles out of here, he’d get them both somewhere safe. They’d be done with this sick situation, depraved, unfounded, horrible-

“Our children. Namely, your children.” Charles choked, catching himself nervously. “Inside me. Growing. It’s..”

Erik felt the nausea bloom from the base of his stomach into his throat. His genetics, his past, the coalescing - it frightened Charles. Bile filled his mouth and the cold reality of their situation made his body clench. The other man was contemplating a life with his seed growing inside of him as though it was certain. He said Erik didn’t frighten him but how did that not include the potential result of intimacy? Even if a child was their own person, he would still be contributing half.

Erik’s hands, sticky and defiled, were wiped on his thighs. He put them over his eyes and dug his fingertips into his hairline. Their bodily needs were painful and heightened - and he was the one who would be responsible for the insemination. The rape. Charles was already contemplating the possibility as though it was inevitable.

His friend, who was in pain because of their new bodies demands, and in a vulnerable state.

Why not him? Charles had asked, wondering why Erik couldn’t have been the one with a womb.

Erik had grown many barriers over the years to protect his mind from mutants like Charles. He had hoped that the man did not hear his morbid thoughts.

Because anything that keeps too close to me - dies.

“Erik?” Charles panted, voice small and high. “Are you okay?” He was curled in on himself, smaller body shaking and pale. He had not climaxed yet, and his small frame was heaving as though he was about to expel all of the water they had shared through his skin.

Erik crawled to him on his hands and knees, shushing him as he protested their proximity.

”I can’t imagine how terrifying your thoughts are. It’s frightening to contemplate.” Erik said, knowing all too well the horrors Charles was imagining. Wanda, Quicksilver, Lorna, David. All very powerful, unstable mutants, and none of them the combination of Magneto and Professor X.

”We.. What should we do? Do you think..”

”It won’t happen.” Magneto growled the words, steel in his resolve. No matter what their bodies felt - their minds could overcome. “Just attaining orgasm seems to help, and we never have to submit to that level.”

”Maybe..” Charles sounded unsure, and that worried Erik. If anyone had control of mind over body it was the most powerful telepath he had ever known.

”Charles, it worked for me.” Erik’s lips were quivering, he licked them, smelling this entire time Charles’ slick in the air. It was having an effect on his body, making his organ harden again, but this time there was no painful throb of punishment. “Just finish and you should be fine.”

”It’s just that I’m afraid. To touch it, to do anything with it. It might be, what if it's not normal?” The smaller man had his hands between his legs, covering his sex.

Erik was silent, contemplating.

“Can’t you tell?” he couldn’t take his eyes off the other man. “There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it from my limited perspective? It felt lovely.”

Charles sent a telepathic bolt of shock through the two of them, as if the idea of Erik’s opinion mattered tremendously and his thin fingers slid up and down the covered pubis mound.

“I just..Why me?” Charles groaned, his pants so entirely soaked at the groin that he was miserably soggy. He started pulling them off. Erik reached forward to help him as he lifted his hips, ripping the fabric down to expose the puffy pink lips, dusted with the same color chestnut curls as the ones on Charles’ head.

“You look very normal from over here.” Erik sighed. “In fact, I’d say you look divine.”

”Is it wrong to say, I’m happy that it's you? That, well, even if it’s selfish.. I’m happy I’m not here alone?” Charles said, teary eyed from exhaustion and nostalgia. A wave of pleasured pain rocked his body and he arched, a low moan of discomfort escaping his lips as the sensation went coursing throughout him.

“Stop rationalizing and come for god’s sake, Charles!” Erik surged forward, lifting his friend up and into his lap, moving his shy hands aside and running his index finger between the wet lips. “You’re going to die staring at your own swollen pussy.”

Charles spluttered as if taking insult but the sound melted into a groan as Erik pressed his middle finger past his threshold and sank it down to the knuckle. His walls tightened around it as if trying to suck it and a pulse of intense pleasure rocked his entire body. His friend was gliding it in and out gently, barely more than a centimeter, then rubbing his index finger against the swollen nub at the top of his entrance.

His whole being was tensing, imprinted memories of a seizure rocking through him. Charles felt his mind leaving his body, as Erik steadily stroked and pumped, building a fire in him that burned his consciousness and soul into ether and smoke.

He lost control. The waves of pleasure from such a simple, intimate touch, laying in Erik’s lap, trusting the man to touch him, the intensity of it. His mind blanked and his vision turned white from only a few moments of it and the sensation ricocheted, waves rolling out of him as his thighs shivered.

Warmth. Wetness. Charles collapsed, boneless and exhaling what felt like his very last breath. From the tip of his toes to the crown of his head, there was nothing but a cotton candy cloud of bliss. He wanted Erik to stay inside of him, to connect through their flesh and return to the way they had been, entwined in that metal tomb. He whined as his friend pulled his finger loose and gave him a gentle pat.

“That was fast.” Erik’s low voice was whispering in his ear and it made him shiver again.

“You were good.” Charles confessed, unable to put into words just how incredible it had felt to be held, entered, cared for. By Erik. It felt like knocking on a door that had been locked since they had known each other. Or perhaps taking a sledgehammer to a wall that they had never spoken of.

”Don’t forget I was once a married man.” Erik moved to lift Charles up, gripping under his knees and his waist, carefully placing him down on the bed. “That sad performance wouldn’t have gotten me more than a smack for teasing. You must have been close to passing out - you were too shy, Charles.”

”There was no other option.” Charles whimpered, rolling onto his stomach, prone.

“Can’t take advantage of a lady, even if it’s your own body?” Erik rubbed him, his own pants still tight and dirty from earlier.

“I suppose so.” Charles frowned, the pressure and pain now subsiding, leaving him wet and embarrassed from the lack of control. “You’re right.. there’s no need for modesty, it is just SO different.”

“You can answer the age old riddle of who feels the most pleasure now, Charles.”

“Women.” the man answered so quickly it made Erik’s eyebrows glide upwards into his scalp.

“Ha!” he sneered. “Raven would never say if she tried both and what her opinion was. She thought it wasn’t scientific.”

Charles covered his face so that the tears would catch on his forearm. “Just my opinion.” he sighed. “I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”

Erik settled down next to him and placed a broad hand on his back, the touch and warmth connecting them as they dwelled in displeasure and conflict at their new dichotomy. First friends, then enemies, then friends, then ghosts, now friends again, though the line was becoming very blurry.

“Don’t leave.” Charles whispered into the room, listening to their breathing. “I felt you earlier. Your mind was in such turmoil. Don’t run away, Erik. I need you.”

The hand on his back began to rub slow circles, the pressure reassuring.

“I won’t abandon you, Charles.”

Not like before. He added to himself.

Tears fell from the telepath’s eyes, joining the stains already there.

Erik was stunned by the open current of emotion. They were both old men - there was the appetite for nostalgia and vulnerability at their age, but Charles had always been controlled. Of the two, he was the volatile one - a thought on female hormones and their possible impact on the other man’s psyche crossed his mind. He had known many women who had the empathetic capacity of a withered cabbage - but perhaps the new body and the changes were wearing on Charles’ incredible mind.

He curled up next to Charles, brushing the sweat off of his neck. He swiped it with his thumb and marveled again at how smooth the skin was, not a single wrinkle or mark to indicate the life they had lived. The smaller man shivered and pressed into his chest, touch starved or perhaps still riding waves of discomfort from their bodily needs.

That was the first thing they would have to get sorted out. Whether it was an effect from being newly revived, an intense need for dopamine or serotonin to help create connections within synapses - or it was a genetic program built in to inspire the two to breed properly, Erik didn’t care. There was no way they would be able to operate at their fullest potential with this kind of distraction.

The sensation of being punched in the gut over and over combined with arousal had not been an experience he wanted to repeat. It had brought up shadows of memories that he would rather not dwell on. He had been in the hands of madmen before and degrading torture was no stranger to him.

Humiliation. The feeling that buzzed through his teeth and set him on edge. He could take the pain and withstand, but he did not have an appetite to see Charles suffer. He swiped a thumb over Charles’ neck again.

“That’s nice.” The man whispered to him. “Thank you.”

They laid in the silence, small sounds within the ship reminding them that they were in space, surrounded by living organisms. It was comforting in a way, that they might be as strange to the creatures aboard as they felt about the alien lifeforms they had seen so far.

The Sentinel’s observation on how much humanity had contributed just through their creation did not slip past Erik. He was no enemy of the automaton and synthetic consciousness. He was only resistant to their directive of complete servitude to bigots. They were nothing more than giant metal attack dogs, the barking jaws of the heeled boots coming down on the oppressed. His initial control of Sentinels first versions had found them to be little more than beautifully crafted circuitry - now they healed, adapted and utilized the best of what mutants had been. They did not have genetic gifts, just prolific nano-machines and learning models.

If they were truly independent, then Erik would have to agree that they were the best of what humanity could offer. Seemingly selfless and able to care for thousands of different lifeforms, they must be the most powerful of the Galactic Federation. Unlike humans, they seemed to lack the poisonous fear of annihilation that made their species so untrustworthy and vindictive. Working towards common goals instead of undermining them. He could work with machines if that was the case.

It was clear that there were no metallokinetics in their universe - perhaps he had been the only and the last. Perhaps that was for the best. Sentinels in this ship were primarily metal, alloys of silicon and elements that he could feel as easily as his own pulse. They might adapt to remove metal once he had been alive for more than 24 hours, but there seemed to be no rush.

Erik had thought that his type of mutation might re-appear, in a descendant or just out of need. Charles had always said that he might never know the limits of his power and he felt that now, untethered from the Earth and now stretching across the vast expanse of space. Just like Charles was getting to know the minds around them, he was listening to their blood, their bones, the kit on their bodies. He was listening to the stars, the pulsating radiation like low windchimes in a soft breeze.

His own bones pulsated with rings of iron and calcium, proteins and hollow caves filled with their nerves and soft tissue. Like rings on a tree, they reflected the time, the final layers laced with a mist of metal that Erik had never sensed before.

Ah. His eyes opened and he moved his hand to cup his own jaw. Their bones. They were from their bodies. Their original bodies. Somehow - they had been repaired as much as possible, but they were laced with the smallest droplets of the melted alloy that Erik had created as he had passed, with Charles in his arms. It was an incredible metal. He ran his powers over and through it. It was perfectly balanced. It sang as he touched it, and rippled. His reach expanded, past the outer limits of what he had thought possible.

This is us. Erik contemplated. The metal is us. And it is every protective instinct I had in my body.

He signed and swiped the telepath's wet neck again.

If I am capable of this, then what more can I do. Can we own our own destiny in this world - just Charles and I?

It was some solace that they were at least walking with their old bones. Thousands of years of radiation in space had not affected them. The breaks and healed cracks were no longer there. They must have soaked in a vat of stem cells for years before becoming bodies again. Erik did not yet understand the science, but he was interested.

We ARE in our bodies, there is some authenticity after all.

He broadcasted everything he felt and understood to Charles, who stiffened for a second, unused to Erik being so open with his mind. The smaller man exhaled and put a hand to his mouth to contain the gasp that released from his body.

“Erik,” he said aloud. “You magnificent creature. Thank you, good man, this is fascinating.”

“Horrors and ignominity, but at least we have another answer.” he grumbled, rubbing the other man’s neck absently.

“Indeed. I have to wonder at this metal you have made. It feels the way an abalone shell looks. Dark and light rainbows - its art. And you didn’t even know you were doing it.”

Erik felt heat on his cheeks and closed his eyes.

“Do you need to rest? I don’t think I can sleep - not after seven thousand years of darkness. I’m going to try and find a way to clean off.”

“Ah.” Now Charles was sounding sheepish. “That was on my mind but you’re just so damn comfortable.”

Erik rolled his eyes and then put a broad hand over Charles’ hair, ruffling it. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to all this hair. I keep thinking you’re late to some class at Oxford.”

“While the baldness was incredibly pragmatic, I am happy to see my old locks again.” Charles brought a hand up to it absently, grazing against Erik’s fingers as he tugged at it. “I always thought it was comical that my telepathic powers actually blazed the follicles off. Do you think it will happen again once I get into a fight or two with my telepathy?”

The question had the pair actually considering possibilities around the durability of these new bodies and their limits.

Charles sighed. “I think I might have to tell that poor pink girl that I would like a medical check-up.”

Erik bolted up and loomed over his companion. “What?!” he exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind? You want to just hand over access to your body so easily?”

“Unlike you, I’ve had to become comfortable with regular medical intervention in my years before our death.” Charles sat up to stare back at Erik, his heart shaped lips and blue eyes distractingly beautiful. “I have new organs and we just experienced an extremely uncomfortable series of symptoms that I need answers on. Oh - also, now that I know we have old bones in our bodies, I need to understand what shape THOSE are in as well. They already have scans of our bodies, Erik. I’m not giving them anything new - I’m the one that stands to learn, not them.”

“No.” Erik replied, folding his arms. “I forbid it.”

Charles opened his mouth in surprise and then leaned back and laughed. “Stop it, Erik, you can’t order me around like a subordinate.”

“Charles.” the man who was Magneto showed a small flash of teeth. “They experimented on us and brought us back as a breeding pair. Giving them any access to your body is inviting disaster. You have no idea what they might introduce into your system under the guise of medical intervention.”

They sat across from each other silently, both arms crossed stubbornly. This was certainly a familiar dynamic, with the two charismatic and self-certain leaders both unwavering with their ideas of good, bad and fair.

“I know you don’t trust them.” Charles kept his composure. “But I don’t see much of a choice.”

“Why don’t you use your three doctorate degrees and make an assessment of your own body?” Erik ground out.

“Because this ISN’T my body!” Charles shouted back, throwing his hands up. “Did you not just put a finger in my vagina? You wouldn’t understand. You just have your firehose and your big body and it's all normal to you - massive and strong, just like normal, but I’ve been grafted and my very DNA meddled with. Even my mind feels different! Christ, Erik, think outside of your own incredible traits for once!”

Erik felt a bit ashamed, his frown deepening, but he stood his ground.

“I know, Charles - “

“No, you don’t.” the smaller man gasped, pushing away from the bed and rising, walking like a fawn finding its stride. “I was paralyzed for most of my life. I forgot what these even feel like.” He gestured to his feet and legs, and then to his groin. “And now it’s all different. I’m a telepath, Erik. I have to feel grounded. I have to - to feel like I have a home.” he gripped his head in his hands.

“How can you be so thoughtless?”

“Because if anything happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.” Erik replied, the confession spilling out unfiltered and making him sweat with fear. “And I don’t trust anyone right now, save for you.”

Their eyes met for several moments, before Charles looked down, cheeks pink.

“I…I know, Erik.” he exhaled slowly and tugged at his hair anxiously. “That’s why you should come with me and watch. You can protect me, right?”

Erik felt his shoulders dropping a fraction. Charles was trying to placate him, but the idea of keeping watch over the medical floor gave him some control that he would lose if his companion left his side.

“Of course I can protect you,” he replied slowly. “Its just hard when you willingly endanger yourself, that’s all.”

Charles smiled sadly. “That is the breadth of our powers, isn’t it? I’m always going to try to make connections while you try to keep us safe and protected. But Erik, we have to start integrating into the ship and you just tore it apart. Making concessions and seeming like we are willing to work with these aliens and, yes, even Sentinels are how we are going to make progress.”

Erik scoffed, crossing his arms.

Charles tilted his head. “You’d rather just blow a hole in this ship and fly us through the cosmos until we find someone you’d prefer to talk to?”

“Why not?” The man called Magneto felt a bit childish with his response, but it was also an open question. What warranted cohabitation and collaboration at this point?

“Because there are many answers here. I’ll be able to go in and out of minds soon enough. I just need practice. And so do you - we don’t have Earth’s magnetic field anymore, you’re surrounded by all new cosmic bodies - you just tore this enormous ship apart like it was a toy!” Charles pointed at him now, like he was giving a lecture at his old classroom. “We have to be adaptable and I choose to be non-threatening. For now.”

Erik exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes. He tried to bury it, but the memories were like ice cold water lapping up to his knees. Screams and antiseptic, metal slabs that had restraints bolted into them. The cries of his people, as the torture continued until they had no strength left. It made him tremble, even now, even after he had lived so long - even after a several thousand year rest. He was only too capable of understanding the depths of humanity's evil - and he had no issue with assuming the worst of any alien race as well.

A cool hand was on his shoulder and he tensed, moving to pull away. “I’ve got you, Erik.” Charles' sweet voice pulled him back. Another hand cupped his chin and he was turned to face the body that had come close. “It's alright.”

Erik swallowed and nodded, opening his eyes as the nightmares were pushed down like a tidal shift. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I can still see it - like it happened only an hour ago. I wish I could just…bury them.”

“Don’t be.” his friend replied, “It’s okay.”

A comfortable silence hung in the space, until Charles slowly pulled away, understanding that Erik Lehnsherr was not a man who could be comfortable with tactile affection for long periods. His demons clung under his skin like buried thorns. Charles was contemplating the minds nearby, filtering through them like pages in a phonebook.

Most of them were maintenance, busy with checking chemicals and other important components on the habitation portion of the ship. Some were doing repairs and others were programming efficiencies for heating and oxygen recycling. He could fly across the space of the ship easily, it was only about the size of Manhattan - enormous for a ship but not a large area in his power range, to find the girl known as Xiji.

In doing so he also identified the area where they had originally awakened - almost the full distance of the ship between them. Erik had pulled an angry cat and gone to the opposite corner of the room, hackles raised and claws out. His powers would be essential in getting them anywhere at an effective speed and he sighed.

“There is a cleaning unit in these quarters.” Erik was standing and walking to a wall where he pressed with his broad hand and a door opened, light on a side panel blinking. His action interrupted Charles, who lost Xiji in the crowd but he came to stand by his friend and peer into the unit with curiosity. Erik was examining it with his powers, using his engineering background to parse its usage.

“I’ll go first, Charles. I don’t want to tell you to do something and then you end up suffocating.” he sounded as though he was still struggling with his own mind and Charles stepped back, letting him be. He wrapped his own arms around himself and watched the larger man disrobe. The medical suit dropped to the floor and Erik gathered it up in his hands and fed it into an opening where it was pulled in.

His naked body was the same as Charles remembered it, minus the scars. He was perhaps not as muscular as he had been at his peak, daily fighting and battle pushing him to be as lean as a male lion leading the hunt. The absence of his tattoo also made his heart break, because the past for them had not been wiped. Their bodies were a presumption, and his own was the worst example.

Erik was pressing something and the panel closed, the sound of liquid beginning to run sounding eerily like a shower. Charles tilted his head and felt the waves of focus from his friend, the intellectual curiosity of understanding how everything worked. Assured that all was safe, Charles went to sit by the circular cubby that showed the window to the outside. He searched with mind again, locating Xiji easily.

He prodded her, awakening the hive. It buzzed nervously, flickering in patterns like bees protecting honey.

“Hello, Xiji.” His gentle greeting was like the smoke of a trained keeper. It calmed down and slowed, its actions bumbling. “It’s me - nothing to worry about dear. Just checking in to make sure we didn’t scare everyone.”

Xiji’s consciousness was careful in responding, he could sense that she was wary.

You can reach me from across the ship? She sounded confused.

Well, I don’t know who else to talk to. You see, I think I do need that medical check up. Something just happened between Erik and me.

Her mind immediately fired up, the hive buzzing happily. Ah, something happened? Did you mate? Did you scent? Have you made a nest in the ship?

Charles felt scandalized but did not project his emotions to her. No, although we did have some bodily responses that were uncomfortable and I may need some medical insights. Were you expecting us to mate so soon?

Well, maybe? I don’t know. Xiji replied, her mind bubbling happily. I will let the staff know. We would prefer that we use our facilities here, but if you are uncomfortable we can bring something to your quarters?

Charles thought carefully. I will come to you, Xiji. Erik will want to watch to make sure I’m safe.

He felt a bolt of fear run through her. He was glad that it was becoming easier to read her. And that he had taken up some apiary lessons as a boy that was overly fond of sugar. Her behavior on consideration was easier to respond to in the context of a honeybee.

Oh, I see. I will let the staff know. You can control him, yes?

I can control him. Charles lied. But he’s very suspicious so your staff will have to be very open with us about everything they are doing and why.

He felt Xiji nervously rubbing her hands together and then disengaged as Erik emerged from the panel completely clean and dry, the suit that he had fed into the opening in the booth also coming out freshly laundered.

The man dressed casually, just a grecian god putting on a spacesuit. Charles looked down at his own small body and frowned, before pulling his clothing off and crumpling it up.

“So. Crumble this up and then what?” he shook the synthetic fabric in the air. Erik came over, leaning into the booth and guiding Charles’ hand.

“Press this. Then this. It's not water but it cleans without lather. And it also dries you off before you exit. You feed the suit in and it cleans as well.”

Charles nodded, memorizing the order and stepping into the portal.

“I found the little pink girl you terrified nearly to death - after I clean we can head to the medbay and run some tests.”

Erik frowned but nodded, and Charles closed the portal on himself, feeling the sweet sensation of hot summer rain on his sticky skin as the cleaning process began.