Inside Dilos's private mini-prison, within an opaque cell lined with plastic and equipped with anti-magnetic devices, two old men no bigger than ants were playing chess.
"Tell me, Charles."
Magneto spoke as he played. "Have you ever woken from a nightmare in the middle of the night?"
The combined effects of his powers backfiring and his internal injuries had left him pale. Though his mutant physiology had helped him recover enough to function normally, some pallor still lingered in his face.
"In your nightmare, do they break down the doors of your school under the authority of the law and come to arrest you and your children?"
Even with his face somewhat pale, Magneto's eyes still pierced Charles like sharp knives.
"I have."
Charles nodded without changing his expression. Then he moved his hand and took one of Magneto's pawns off the board.
"What would you do, then?"
Magneto removed one of Charles's knights from the board. "When you woke up?"
"I'd feel sorry for the poor fools who came to the school to cause trouble."
At some point, Charles had stopped moving his pieces. His eyes, filled with calm, resolve, and complicated emotions, seemed to see through everything—including the blazing fury Magneto was barely keeping in check.
"You have to let it go, Erik. The world isn't what it was decades ago."
"Let it go?" Magneto scoffed, his expression turning grim. "Charles, the war never ended! Humans are still trying every which way to persecute mutants! Do you really think I'll give up fighting?!"
Magneto lunged forward and seized Charles. "There's no reconciling this war, Charles. And you've chosen to stand against me!"
His words carried a terrifying chill. "You'll regret saving me. Plastic can't hold me back! And when I get out, I won't show mercy like I