Charles' POV
As the period bell wailed deafeningly across the building, Lynn's students hurriedly scurried off to their next lesson's venue while I calmly proceeded to my designated one conveniently located just next door.
Reaching for the intricate brass knob, I turned it and pushed the solid timber forwards, habitually creating some allowance for my bulky chair to maneuver. Surely, the cumbersome routine was now perfected and easily accomplished after decades of practice but the characteristic gesture undoubtedly trumpeted my entrance.
Expertly, I steered my chair along the generously wide aisle in the front and the casual chatter resonating within the sophisticated room spontaneously transformed into a barren silence as my pupils naturally discerned my conspicuous presence. Flashing me amiable smiles, the teens obediently dispersed from their packs and nestled into their usual seats, granting a punctual start to our seminar, as the blanket of clouds morphed into a comforting blue.
Despite having hosted the exact lecture just before, the subject in discussion remained something that kindled close to heart and a repeated sharing was neither monotonous nor boring. Regardless of the additional work, I actually fancied the expanded interaction boasting a further opportunity for me to personally grasp the vast range of intriguing perceptions possessed by those young minds towards the ultimately controversial issue.
Although it was difficult to demand that everyone appreciated the said topic equally, my respectful audience industriously focused their attention to the ongoing session. Unfortunately, at the halfway mark, their enthusiasm to participate in the corresponding verbal analyses substantially dwindled, as if their eagerness had literally been drained like the skies of its vibrant colour.
"When an individual acquires great power, the use or misuse of that power is everything. Will it be for the greater good or will it be used for personal or for destructive ends?" I stressed pensively.
Essentially flooded with nothing but the pathetic recollections of Erik, I unintentionally heightened the dreariness of the atmosphere with an inadvertently grave tone as the exterior erratically darkened. As I unwittingly paused in a moment engulfed by grief, the dimming setting was temporarily enveloped in a noiseless void until thunder remotely growled in the distance, awakening me to my negligence.
"Now, this is a question we must all ask ourselves," I asserted, more refreshingly this time, in attempt to ward off the dullness rapidly bleeding into the ambience.
"Why? Because we are mutants," I rehashed spiritedly, smiling in utter satisfaction.
Delightfully proud expressions progressively sprouted amidst the sea of youthful faces and I was wholly heartened to be gifted with that wondrous view from my chair. Moderately elevated above the others as a result of its attached motors and castors, my special seat surprisingly assumed the role of a fortuitous vantage point where their diligence, pleasantly apparent, could be clearly witnessed.
While most of them employed conventional methods to jot notes, one amongst the crowd was more advantageous, being blessed with the extraordinary talent to transcribe words onto paper just by the wave of her hand.
Penny—oddly enough—basically had to hover her palm over her booklet and the phrases dictated by her mind would automatically materialized in neat ink, inevitably earning rather envious gazes from her neighboring associates who were frantically scribbling in order to comprehensively record the contents of my speech.
"For psychics, this presents a particular problem. The very nature of our gift is invasive," I emphasized seriously.
"When is it acceptable to use our power and when do we cross that invisible line that turns us into tyrants over our fellow men?" I challenged in a provocative tone, hoping to evoke some response and gladly, I was successful.
"But Einstein said that ethics are an exclusive human concern without any superhuman authority behind it," Kitty hotly debated as an acute twinge pulsated simultaneously pulsated through my arm.
"Einstein wasn't a mutant," I refuted with a kind smile, counting on it to disguise my sudden panic, as I quickly squeezed in a telepathic glimpse of Lynn, thankfully discovering her safe and sound in Storm's company.
"So far as we know," I elaborated jokingly and Kitty's face brightened with a bashful grin as the chuckles of her peers erupted into the fickle spring background now spruced with a striking shade of azure.
"This case study was donated to us by an ally at the CIA," I introduced, swiveling my chair aside, and guided their gaze to the screen mounted to the wall behind me as their jovial commotion ceased.
"Jones," I softly beckoned.
Courteously, the boy seated directly in front of the projector nodded and with a simple blink of his eyes housed behind thick glass framed in black wires, the large digital display switched to life. Immediately, Theresa beamed from ear to ear, practically watching her mother in sheer exhilaration, as she constantly nudged her roommate.
"That's my mom," Theresa babbled excitedly, but in a hushed tone, and struggled to curb her joy, bouncing elatedly in her seat, as the video clip began to roll.
"The man you see here was born with no higher-level brain functions. His organs and nervous system work, but he has no consciousness to speak of," Moira acquainted composedly and the brief film halted at the image of her, attired in a formal suit with the tag that published her position as the current Chief Supervisor dangling from her chest pocket, standing before several doctors attending to a comatose male complicatedly hooked up to multiple sets of machinery.
"What if we were to transfer the consciousness of one person—say a father of four with terminal cancer—into the body of this man?" I proposed in a theoretical fashion and steadily, more faces were submerged into deep thought as they actively pondered over the hypothetical scenario.
"How are we to decide what falls within the range of ethical behavior and what..." I grilled fervently but my zealous voice was eventually hindered by the enchanting ring of hers.
Ever since I could remember, Lynn had always triumphed as the most unyielding form of my distraction and her ability to derange or occupy my mind only surged drastically with our intricate connection. Generally, the strength of my telepathy was sufficient to build a robust barrier between her and I, preserving privacy somewhat, but this very blockade was prone to crumble—awarding access to pure speech, especially when she was just in the vicinity.
"Professor?" Jones mumbled confusedly and I instinctively faced towards him, perhaps radiating with the same disoriented expression, as I snapped out of Lynn graciously offering up tea.
"We'll continue this tomorrow. Class dismissed," I declared with a warm smile.
Evidently fazed, all of them sluggishly gathered up their belongings but I patiently waited until they had fully disbanded before briskly navigating the way back to my study situated precisely one storey above. Although separated only by a single surface, the route up was more complex, involving a lift ride and weaving through a series of corridors on each floor before I arrived at my desired destination.
In my office, Raven had reclined leisurely into the couch as her blonde self sloppily decked in baggy pajamas, ungracefully slurping on her drink. Perched alongside her was Hank, properly mannered, carefully accepting his steamy beverage floating over from Lynn, and Storm merely stood around as I rushed into the area.
"Sorry, I'm late," I hastily claimed and Lynn faced around, jaded yet glowing with immense glee.
"Charles," Lynn greeted with a sweet smile, pouring her longing eyes into mine, but was certainly hesitant to stretch her throbbing arm out for the hug she craved dearly, in fear of further aggravating our physical torture as I expeditiously approached her.
"Hey," I whispered, wrapping my arm around her and gently pecked her temple as I delicately caressed her wrist.
How are you holding up? I probed, yearning for my eyes to understate my true worries, as I gazed at her nervously.
I'll manage, Lynn reassured with a positive smile, albeit discreetly clasping my hand around her braced one and adamantly refused to release her grip around them.
"What's going on?" Lynn prodded anxiously, her hazel eyes unmistakably perturbed.
"Hank called me this morning when you were still asleep. Said we needed to speak urgently," I answered honestly, diverting my curious gaze to him.
"Yes. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Hank affirmed appreciatively as we politely exchanged a handshake.
"Hank, you're always welcome here," I reminded sincerely.
"You're part of this place," Lynn echoed in a cheerful tone but Hank seemed strictly depressed.
"I have news," Hank alerted grimly.
