As Erik led his Brotherhood into the ocean, Charles heard one last telepathic whisper, soft as a goodbye.
The human ships, seeing the mutants as a greater threat than the Soviets, opened fire. A naval barrage tore into the beach. A stray shell struck Charles in the spine.
Charles, bleeding in the sand, looked up. He saw his sister choosing the path of rebellion. He saw his brother choosing the path of vengeance. And he realized the truth of the name the newspapers had already given them.
Charles Xavier closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. Not to fight. But to find the next scared, lonely mutant. The next girl who couldn't touch anyone without killing them. The next boy who saw colors in sounds. X-men- First Class
It was Erik who solved the equation. "Keep him busy," he muttered, then reached out. Not at Shaw, but at the coin on the floor of the submarine. The very coin Shaw had used to kill Erik’s mother. He pulled it. Through steel, through water, through the chaos. It shot up through the deck, through the air, and hovered, trembling, an inch from Shaw's forehead.
"You're thinking about Shaw," Charles said, removing the helmet. His eyes were kind, blue as a summer sky, but weary.
One by one, they left. Alex, unsure. Raven, defiant. Hank, heartbroken. They stood behind Erik, who lifted his hand and raised the Soviet submarine from the water, its conning tower forming a terrible crown. As Erik led his Brotherhood into the ocean,
The turning point was the Cuban Missile Crisis.
They trained on a secluded beach. In the mornings, Charles taught them philosophy and control. "Anger is a jet of steam," he'd say. "You can let it blow the lid off, or you can use it to power a locomotive." In the afternoons, Erik taught them the hard edge. "Survival," he'd say, as he made a satellite dish buckle with a flick of his wrist, "is not a philosophy. It is a reflex."
"Erik, don't!" Charles screamed, reading the intent like a black sun rising in his friend's soul. A stray shell struck Charles in the spine
The war had begun. But so had the dream.
"No." Erik turned to the others—to the survivors, the beasts, the angels, and the outcasts. "Who is with me?"