i. X-Men United
“My opinion? Magneto’s behind this,” Scott said.
Cecily stood nearby, nervously biting her nails. “No, I don’t think so, Scott,” Jean interjected.
“While Eric is certainly capable of orchestrating something like this from prison, it would be counterproductive to his goal of mutant prosperity,” Charles added. “It would only undermine his vision of mutant superiority.”
Cecily felt a pang of frustration. She wished she could be more helpful. Though she could see glimpses of the future, it was never clear enough to offer actionable insights.
“Of course, the government’s likely response will be to reintroduce the Registration Act,” Storm said.
“Or worse,” Charles added. “The president might declare a state of emergency and order the arrest of every mutant in the country.” The thought sent a chill down Cecily’s spine.
“Do you think the assassin was working alone?” Jean asked.
“We’ll only know if we can find him before the authorities do,” Charles replied. “I’ve been trying to track him with Cerebro, but his movements are strangely erratic. Once I have more precise coordinates, Storm and Jean, I’ll need you to take the jet and try to intercept him.”
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“Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in,” Cecily said with a bright smile as she walked down the stairs.
Logan glanced up at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Hi, Cecily.” He noticed immediately that her hair was different—no longer light blonde but a rich brunette.
“Uh, I should go and get the jet ready,” Storm said, making a quick exit.
Cecily watched as the kids exchanged their goodbyes. “Storm and Jean are heading to Boston,” she said, coming to a stop right in front of Logan. “I was going to help them get everything ready.”
Logan studied her for a moment before reaching out to touch a strand of her new hair. “I preferred the blonde,” he remarked casually.
Cecily tilted her head slightly. “And I prefer someone who sticks around. Guess we’re even,” she replied. “This shouldn’t take too long. You’ll be here when I get back, unless you’re planning on leaving again.”
“Well, I can probably think of a few reasons to stick around,” he said, his expression playful.
Before Cecily could respond, Scott came down the stairs. “Find what you were looking for, Logan?”
“More or less,” Logan answered, still focused on Cecily.
Cecily’s smile widened. “I’ll see you later,” she told Logan before walking over to Scott.
She stopped in front of him and added with a hint of seriousness, “Be nice.”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Cecily walked into Cerebro alongside Logan. “Logan,” the professor said with a hint of amusement in his voice, “my tolerance for smoking in the mansion notwithstanding, if you continue to smoke in here, you’ll spend the rest of your days under the impression that you’re a six-year-old girl.”
Cecily chuckled at the professor’s remark. “You’d do that?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’d have Cecily braid your hair,” the professor replied, and Cecily’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh, please, please, please do that, Professor,” she said eagerly.
Logan glanced at Cecily before extinguishing his cigar on his hand. Cecily watched with an intrigued expression, her gaze fixed on his hand.
“You want me to leave?” Logan’s voice broke Cecily’s reverie.
“No, just don’t move,” the professor said.
“These lights represent every living person on the planet,” the professor explained.
Cecily was already bored. She started biting her nails, lost in her thoughts. Logan noticed her muttering something he couldn’t quite make out. “He’s yet to see victory,” was the only phrase he caught.
She only stopped fidgeting and focused on her surroundings when Cerebro finally powered down.
“I need you to read my mind again,” Logan said, turning to the professor. Cecily glanced at him, her brow furrowing. It seemed he hadn’t found what he was searching for.
“Logan, I’m afraid the results will be the same as before,” the professor said. “We had a deal.”
“The mind isn’t a box that can simply be unlocked. It’s more like a beehive with countless compartments.”
“Spare me the lecture,” Logan retorted.
“I’m certain your amnesia, your adamantium skeleton, and the claws are all connected. But sometimes, the mind needs to discover things on its own. I promise we’ll revisit this discussion when I return,” the professor assured him.
“Oh, and if you would be so kind as to help Cecily watch over the children tonight, Scott and I will be visiting an old friend.” The professor left them, and Cecily watched him go.
“They will not return,” she whispered to herself, resuming her habit of picking at her fingers.