Dallas Airport, Texas, 9:00 PM.
Natasha opened the driver's door. Coulson took the passenger seat, while Schiller and Charles sat in the back. As Natasha started the car, she said, "Lisa Labres's home is at least half an hour from the airport. Texas has some nice scenery. You can take a look along the way."
Charles was in no mood for that. He kept flipping through research materials on his phone, while Schiller watched the vast plains speeding past outside and said, "Stop looking. It won't help. Modern psychology has no method that can erase the trauma caused by forcibly deleting memories. You'd be better off taking this chance to practice your abilities."
Charles let out a groan. "I really only wanted to help her. If I'd known it would turn out like this, I never would've messed with her memories."
"We believe you," Coulson comforted him. "You have such powerful abilities, yet the world is still peaceful and orderly. That alone proves you're a good person. I'm sure Lisa can understand that too."
Charles remained dejected, so Schiller changed the subject. "How are things with Erik? Are you two still arguing every day?"
"He's incredibly irritating." Charles pursed his lips, clearly unwilling to talk about him, but after thinking for a moment, he still said, "Those so-called powerful methods he uses to strike back at people who discriminate against Mutants seem very childish to me. Of course, he feels the same way about me."
Then they talked for a while about the situation facing Mutants in Charles's universe. Overall, it was much the same as in most universes: conventional methods offered basically no solution.
At that point, Natasha and Coulson both couldn't help turning to look at Schiller. Schiller noticed their gazes, but deliberately said, "Actually, the Mutants here