Cyclops wasn't sure he was getting the full story still, and didn't like the phrasing of "silencing you" -though this kid had a certain way of talking that could've been chalked up to- but he felt he had as much -more- as he needed at the moment.

When they'd left the city after Ryder collapsed it hadn't been hard to track the way she had come from the forest, and they had purposely -and fortunately- found a location near her cache. Her turning her attention to it now, seemingly comfortable enough to essentially go about her business, gave Cyclops the reassurance he could shift his guard for a bit.

With a slight breath of pain, he got up, quietly departing elsewhere into the forest.

Xavier acknowledged his departure with a only a brief look, having no need to question it. Instead, his attention remained steadily on Ryder. Given the hour, given the injuries, Xavier was of the mind to suggest more rest, especially as her display of getting up just a moment ago had seemed, perhaps, more statement than prudent. Perhaps that was why she situated herself as she did, now. Settling. Distracting herself.

He would follow her lead. If she was who she said -who she believed- she was, and even if not, he wanted to know more about this child. And he needed to know her plans. He decided not to repeat the question he'd just asked and instead went off her statement of not going back. "Ryder, now that you have escaped from Umbra Biogenetics, where do you intend to go?"

While she was typing away at the miraculously powered devices, Ryder looked up at the old man. ”Nearest car lot. Plenty of cars these days are electronic enough that I could drive them in my sleep. I’ll figure it out from there…” She pulled up an address on the laptop, and psychically sent it to the phone. ”And unless you want a repeat of earlier, you might want to bail soon. I’m still hooked to Umbra, and they’re planning to send out more pigs to the slaughter. And I can see theough the cameras in town from here. The mob’s gonna be here soon. So either run or stay for the pinch. I sure as hell won’t be.”

Both of those things were true. As they spoke, the guards of Umbra Biogenetics were preparing to mount another assault. Meanwhile, the mutant-hating townspeople were hot on the trail of the three outsiders. If they didn’t scatter or run now, they’d be surrounded shortly by one group or the other.

Ryder went dead silent for a second, and shut her eyes. When she opened them, she rolled her shoulders. ”Those radios are too easy,” She commented, apparently having turned more handheld radios into grenades as she did once already.

So Ryder's plan seemed very much moment-to-moment, unless she wasn't being entirely truthful. Xavier did eye her typing away, wondering what it was she was doing so intently.

At the words "and unless you want a repeat of earlier" he calmly expected a threat to follow. Instead it was a warning. This he did not doubt, though he was impressed. He had been keeping a mental watch of the area to the extent of a certain radius, and no one had yet breached it. Ryder's range was remarkable for one so young.

Just as he was about to speak he saw Ryder quiet in what seemed an unusual way. When she next spoke, Xavier knew what she had done based on the radio interruption he had witnessed back at Umbra, and the injury he had sensed in the guards afterward. "It is better practice not to cause injury where it can be avoided. We have the advantage of foresight. Now, as clearly as you know technology, a body is a different thing and yours still requires rest. Stay with us and we will keep you safe until you heal."

With that, it was Xavier's turn to close his eyes momentarily as he turned attention to telepathically alerting Scott.

He hadn't gone far, just enough that Xavier and Ryder's voices were only just in distant earshot.

If Jean were at the facility by herself, he wouldn't have felt so concerned. They were X-Men; trained for anything, capable of handling insane scenarios. Jean more capable than most. They were never over-protective with each other. Danger was part of the job. Since their later teenaged years they'd grown up doing this. That wasn't to say they were desensitized to something happening, just that this was business as usual.

Except Jean wasn't by herself, and this reality -skepticism or not, it wasn't judicious not to approach it as such- of stolen genes, essentially designer mutant "manufacturing" and whatever else, was what had him internally wound up.

Based on how Jean reported feeling after what was now confirmed to have been Ryder's doing with Umbra's technology, it could be surmised Ryder's powers were what had been affecting her. However, what if those weren't the facts? It could be Umbra had something designed to affect psychics, designed specifically to wear down or catch them off guard. That Jean's addition to the staff was a ploy. Ryder's powers, then, may've had nothing to do with it besides the function of that supposed device getting ramped up or messed with along with everything else.

Why such a device hadn't seemed to affect Xavier at all was a question Scott already had multiple answers for.

Again, it just wasn't judicious to proceed as if this wasn't a possibility.

So here he was, lowering himself -with a small grimace- to the base of a tree in order to sit against it. Tilting his head back against the rough bark, closing his eyes behind his visor; no idea if he could make this work.

Previously when he'd initiated psychic contact with Jean via their link, he'd been in a desperate place. He couldn't even recall if he'd made the effort consciously the first time. This situation was potentially dire for them both, yet directly on only Jean's end. Scott himself wasn't in any danger.

That being said, the past times had featured significant distance between them.
That wasn't the case here. Scott hoped that would offset things.

Drawing a meditative breath, he concentrated in the relative quiet of the dark. . . .By night owl standards it wasn't late, though late enough that someone typically on a "school day" schedule ought to be asleep. Given the events of the day, however, with both finding themselves wrapped up in what constituted a mission, it was just as likely Jean wouldn't be.

Half of him hoped she wasn't -a psychic's mind being most vulnerable when asleep.
Half of him hoped she was -that her mind might be more likely then to catch his wave.

In any case, he visualized the facility...He hadn't seen Jean's room there, but he could certainly visualize her form, awake or asleep...He dialed in to how it felt to speak with Jean in his mind, the different way it did than when any other telepath made themselves known. . .'Jean?...I need to fill you in...I need to know you're unharmed...Answer me. Please..

'..Jean.'

---

"Scott?" She spoke the words aloud. Opening her eyes and shifting to look around the room. He wasn't here. Realizing, she closed her eyes again.
'Scott...?'

---

He heard it like a whisper but knew he wasn't imagining it. 'Jean! Are you OK? We haven't heard fro--'

'Scott.' This time it was Xavier's voice, loud and clear. 'We must go. Both guards and townspeople are advancing on us as we speak.'

Scott could feel his connection with Jean hadn't held. "Damnit." He thought he'd heard something more, beneath Xavier's words. But whatever it'd been was like a pieced-together recording of only every other word spoken: '... don't ... you ...' What had that been? Not enough to gauge Jean's condition from. A sigh turned into another grimace as he eased himself up.

Best as it was not to have another tangle between Ryder and basically anyone with ill intent, for the sakes of all involved, Cyclops thought back: 'Should I run interference?' Further, advanced technology though Xavier's wheelchair may be, a forest wasn't the greatest terrain to have to navigate over.

"Plot your escape for as long as you can remember, and then bust out of the shittiest place man ever made... And then you can bitch at me about causing injury. While Ryder was saying this, she concentrated hard enough to detonate another radio. But now, she had to slap her computer shut and stuff the phone in a pocket to direct her attention somewhere else. Both devices fell dead the moment she switched gears, and loaded her things into the plastic basket again. She could lose the mob easily, they'd lose motivation shortly while they stumbled around in the dark... Wait a minute.

Ryder felt out with her power, confirming what she thought. Quietly, she spread her consciousness into the cameras of the town. Honestly, they might as well have just stayed home at this point. But the guards... That was the interesting part. Ryder could see through their eyes, at least a dozen still making their way towards the mutants on foot. And given their equipment, she could see exactly as they did.

"The guards brought out their night vision tech. They've got electronic helmets specifically made to work around me. Best I can do is see what they see, meaning they'll see all of us long before the town gets here with their flashlights, pistols and shotguns. So if you want to shoot something, pick a direction and start blasting. I've got better things to do. I'm going back there, and I'm going to flatten the place for good this time. So don't bother following me, because I'm not going to stop and think about if you're still around or not. Cool? Cool."

With that being said, Ryder turned and started walking in the direction of Umbra. The guards would intercept her before they intercepted the older mutants, at the rate she was walking.

Stand by. Was Xavier's answer before he turned his mind momentarily away from Scott as Ryder responded.

It looked to him as though she had concentrated similarly to the way she had just a moment before. Whether she repeated the action with more radios or did something else, he wasn't to know. Either way, it was not agreeable.

"I acknowledge you have experiences of which I cannot relate and I will not pretend to," he responded levelly, "However, I have a great many of my own- His point was cut off by Ryder's update about the guards. He hoped the "pistols and shotguns" regarding the townspeople was a supposition on her part, even though he expected not.

"Ryder! Stop!" He reached out for her but wasn't in a position to reach her, nor was he to catch up. 'Yes -you can stop Ryder from exacting revenge on Umbra. She's gotten away from me and is headed back.' Suddenly his eyes widened -then shut in hurried concentration.

Ryder was right about most of the townspeople -yet at least one was already in the area with a little more than a mere flashlight.

'Hurry but tread carefully. Someone with a hunting rifle and nightscope just had it trained on you from 100 yards. They'll find they've forgotten how to use it. I'll do what I can with any more I sense, though as you know not every mind is quite so forgetful.' One with a very specific action in mind was quite a different matter than multiple thinking in only general terms of "get the mutants", and hatred always ran too deep for even Xavier's mental reach.

'Literally hunting us, now?' came Cyclops' vexed thought; more reflexively than as a response.

'I believe it was an enhanced variety of net gun, but yes,' he empathized with his X-Man's consternation, 'and I cannot reach even Ryder's mind to warn her of the same.'

Cyclops didn't need to be told twice -- he had already been moving at the first word of "go".
Where he had walked for his personal moment had been in Umbra's direction, so he was already nearer to Ryder than Xavier, yet the paths weren't the same. He was essentially some distance parallel to Ryder.

He'd pause every now and again to silence his own movement so he could listen for Ryder's; this wasn't as informative as he would've hoped. Cyclops was also really starting to feel his injuries again. The hurried travel -as hurried as it could safely be in a forest at night- the time it'd been. Jean had given him pain medication when she treated him but he was on the other side of the window.

• The Good News was: Ryder also had injuries, and though hers were more recent, they hadn't been able to give her pain medication when they'd treated her since she'd been unconscious. He and her were on a level playing field there.
• The Bad News was: she was a telekinetic. She could use her powers to "feel" around and tread more confidently than he could.

Meanwhile, Xavier knew where his limits lay.
He headed in a direction of his own.

Under the cover of darkness, the guards of Umbra continued to advance on the one mutant in particular they needed to retrieve. Normally, Ryder could use all of their tech as a beacon to determine their proximity, but the strange material she couldn't get around was making that problematic. If she tried to focus through their visors, all she could make out was foliage. So Ryder needed to think very carefully about when she's ditch the guy she could telekinetically feel was tailing her, to prevent him from realizing she wasn't going to Umbra after all. But if she lingered too long, then the guards would inevitably catch her and open fire. She knew they had live ammunition, because she could see through their own eyes. Ryder lied when she said she was going here, so if Cyclops felt like that lie existed, then she'd have to shake him off more and more.

Ryder heard a twig snap, and instinctually punched the air before her, causing a wave of dense telekinesis to fly forward. Trees were uprooted and the ground shook. Someone screamed, because their organs had just been ruptured, and bullets began to fire.

She walked too far, and lost track of distance. Umbra Biogenetics could be seen over the trees that still stood. Ryder tuned back into their night vision goggles, and saw herself through at least four of them, and quickly flung herself directly up into the canopy of leaves. A felled tree went through through one guard completely. His limp body was sent hurtling towards his buddy like a bullet, and both of them because an obscene, red paste. Their visors were telekinetically ripped from their gored heads, helmet and all, and Ryder turned the helmets into moons, to which she was the planet. Blood dripped from them, as shattered craniums slopped out before the helmets orbited around Ryder, enhancing her ability to see the surroundings. She was blind, but now she could see better than any single one of them. They were trying to flank her.

Ryder reached for a tree to lance another one, when a bullet ripped clean through her leg, going out with a wet snap. Those weren't hollow points. Ryder shrieked like a banshee. White hot pain streaked up her leg, to her knee and down her ankle. It made her head spin.

Why couldn't they just leave her alone? Why did she have to be just a tool for them? A lab rat, stripped of all humanity, and dignity. That was all she was to the scientists. To Becker. All for him. The pain in her leg was unlike anything she felt before. Ryder was no stranger to aches, surgical pain, even being set on fire once or twice by accident. But this... She wasn't prepared for that shot. Ryder didn't anticipate it, it caught her off guard.

Something in her broke. Ryder had been telling herself, deep down, that she didn't want to think about the corpses she might pile up if she really stopped caring. But this was the reminder she needed. Umbra didn't see her as a human being. They'd rather kill her right here and now, and harvest her brain to run their lifelong experiments again if they had to. She was a maggot to them. She knew this, and yet she had the stupid, naive nerve to show mercy on them.

Mercy, that she should've spared for herself.

The air grew thick around the guards who closed in. It felt like walking through syrup, and then it became concrete. Of the eight that circled her, five were crushed inwards as though black holes had manifested in their lungs. They screamed, but bones and gristle snapped louder than they could cry out. Blood spewed from tears in skin, wrung like water from wet hair. The other three eluded her sight, obscured by brush, and fired more bullets into her, only to find their rounds stopped mid-air. They still spun, in fact they spun faster, faster and faster before being flicked back to their origin points. One man's throat exploded from the pressure, another lost his eye from the velocity of a bullet leaving the back of his skull. The third fell limp as a bullet severed his spine, just below his heart.

Again, bone snapped as helmets were torn free, adding to a cluster of gazes that all alerted Ryder to the next wave of guards training lasers on her. She flicked her wrist and the dead bodies broke like dry spaghetti, into chunks of bloody shrapnel. Shattered remnants of trees joined the debris, and Ryder sent it all forth like a hailstorm. Screams erupted, but several guards opened fire all the same. Two bullets landed. One in her right shoulder, and the other in her collarbone. Ryder fell back, temporarily losing all the breath in her lungs from the sudden force. Something felt fractured, by in this state, Ryder didn't feel the pain. No, all she felt was rage.

Looking through the visors of the wounded, Ryder could tell there were still a dozen waiting for her to stand up. And she did.

They went to fire, but the rifles and handguns flew out of their hands. The dead lackeys, too, lost their weapons as all of them joined a firing line in front of Ryder. Spare magazines that she could loot were lined up as well. Someone gave an order to retreat, and yet no one could take a step. Their feet were telekinetically rooted in place. Even the wounded were hoisted up.

Ryder pulled every trigger at once. The sounds of gunfire, which were previously stagnant and and organized, were now a cacophony. Round after round, the soldiers were torn to shreds. Ryder didn't even care if she hit anything vital, she was only concerned with leaving them in tatters, too weak and broken to lay a scratch on her. Through her powers, she saw most of their visors crack and break, rendering her unable to see through their eyes. Blood pooled the ground, and as the bodies slumped dead into a pile, Ryder saw none of them move an inch.

She took in a monumental breath. The floating helmets dropped to the floor, shattering their visors.

In a haze, Ryder limped over to them, feeling around with her powers to rip the radios from the dead. Over two dozen floated up to her, and they all crackled to life.

Ryder could barely find the words, her focus split between making a connection, and standing on a foot that felt as though it was both numb and on fire. She spat blood.

"Umbra... Becker. I know you hear me, you pathetic sack of shit. How many more- How-" She coughed up a glob of thick blood, all over her shirt.

"How many more of you fucking worms are coming for me? Because I can kill all of you. A̴͕͑L̵̡͂̚L̴̦̈́ ̸̙͝O̵̡͙̎F̶͓͓́ ̸͈͂͑Ỳ̷͔Ở̶͚Ų̶͎̐!̸̞̽͜!̷̲̑ͅ!̵̭̌ͅ I am not your fucking TOY anymore!!!. D̷̮͕͔̤͓̤̮̺͎̲̾̍̍̐̉̒̓̐̂̈́̂͌̾́́́͜͝ͅo̵̡̢̼̱͎̳̗̗͉̰̼̙̳̻̯̬͓͒̏͛̇̎̃̃̽͝͠n't come near me a̷g̴a̶i̸n̴, because I will fucking-"

Ryder heard something click behind her, and spun around before feeling around with her telekinesis again. Someone was alive. There was a bang, and all she could do was soften the blow. Something collided with her skull- No doubt a bullet- but only' left a crack where it would've gone clean through. Ryder put all her weight on her bad leg, and the pain made her vomit. Blood, acid and whatever amounted to food desecrated the corpse.

There was silence, before she stood up and and hurled a radio at the shooter. It exploded against his head.

"Die..." She said, weakly.

He raised his gun to shoot again. Another one blew up against his temple.

"Leave me alone..."

Even still, he weakly pointed the pistol at Ryder's face.

DIE!!!!

Ryder flung the remaining two dozen radios at him. Each one crackled into a burst of electricity, cascading off of each other like a bundle of grenades. The force incinerated everything above the man's neck, and flung debris up at Ryder. Bits of molten plastic, wires and metal slammed against her like a shotgun, knocking her over once again. Her skin was shredded in some places, and burnt to a third degree in others. And somehow, Ryder was still standing just long enough to feel the pain, before slumping against a tree.

Her vision fell back, and Ryder's body went into a slumber once more.

Cyclops was questioning Ryder's choice of destination. Why plan so long to escape Umbra just to return to it? If she wanted to flatten the place, it sounded pretty clear she could've done that already, when she had initially escaped.

He didn't buy it. Something was up.
Either she was going there for a different reason than she'd stated -something she realized she needed that wasn't tech related; she didn't have remote access to?
Or she wasn't going there at all.

It did occur to him that their mini-X-jet was parked some distance in a clearing of the forest beyond the other side of Umbra. Could she have figured that out and wanted to steal their ride?

His sense of direction remained acute, though the more they travelled the more he lost ground on Ryder. He had the impulse to hurry -- he still had the advantage of size and could take much longer strides than she. But he knew better. Hurrying in this terrain at this time of day would only serve to set him back even more.

That's when he felt the ground shake beneath him, heard a sound like something being ripped from the earth at the same time, then heard the first scream, followed by gunfire.

"What the Hell?!"

Things became oddly clearer some distance up ahead, and Cyclops registered it was because trees had fallen out of view. 'Is she uprooting the forest, or...?' For all he knew this could be another mutant. The worst case scenario was it was an innocent local acting our of fear.

More sounds echoed -- quieter and less directly than if they hadn't been in a forest, but enough that Cyclops had a sense he'd be coming up on some sickening scene -- then came the shriek. It brought his mind back to the parking lot when Ryder had been injured. He was sure she'd just been again. This was not good.

Cyclops did hurry now -- recovering his footing fast each time he lost it. Pain was swept aside as adrenaline flooded in. He needed to get to the scene before --
He froze. Eyes widening behind his visor as mangled screams replaced by something worse registered through his auditory system.

His basic human instincts said to stay firmly planted where he was, but the rest -his X-Men instincts- took over; charging towards danger being just part of the protocol. Moving on, he practically felt what he was hearing, as though his body knew what his mind couldn't possibly.

---

Some distance away in two separate places, two others were feeling the carnage as well, though decidedly more viscerally.

She'd been making her way to them since the failed communication, sensing he needed her, and now, Jean Grey screamed, clutching at her head as she felt multiple minds die horrifically in succession, then at once. She didn't even realize she'd fallen until she made herself open her eyes -- going against her instinct to shut out the world by shutting her eyes; she needed to see the space of the world in front of her which was devoid of decimation. But it was no use.

She registered no pain from the fall -- registered nothing but the concoction brought on by her mutant telepathy and natural empathy.

Xavier had gone back to the roads, planning on influencing a mind just enough to have himself driven back to the facility. He had come across a few vehicles indicating the arrival of more townspeople without any current occupants, when he, too, felt the pain of cerebral death on repeat. "AA-AH-AHHH!" His hands, too, clutching at his head.

Separately, the telepaths fought through the pain as though physically sifting through the bodies to try and locate one in particular.

He couldn't be among them -- he couldn't be.

---

The townspeople were bold, but not that bold.
If the gruesome sounds coming from the altered forest weren't enough, the insane amount of gunfire certainly was.

They weren't joining this fray.

One, however, perhaps with the panicked thinking of 'is it following me?!', perhaps by sheer accident, or perhaps getting off a calculated shot before turning tail to collect their quarry another day, fired off another of those enhanced net guns.

This one did ensnare Cyclops, who went down painfully, an unsettling warmth bubbling out in all the places where he'd been shot before by Ryder, indicative of the stitching and packing no longer holding. Only he wasn't registering that just now. He had something else to worry about.

The netting had managed to bind one hand tightly in the very position required for his visor to engage. After a few scarce seconds of blasting apart the earth Cyclops shut his eyes, having to act blind until he could extricate his hand.

• The good news was: he had blasted apart some of the net, as well.
• The bad news was: the blasting of the already disturbed earth saw to the felling of another tree.

It CRASHED down onto another, branches breaking. A thick one SLAMMING into an incline below -- one Cyclops had only minutes before came down in a scarcely controlled skid -- the branch now careening down it.

If that branch had merely rolled from the higher elevation, he could've heard it and blasted it away. As it came with the noise of coniferous impact and breakage, however, he couldn't sort out what he was hearing in time.

Cyclops had managed to stand up.
This was one time he should've stayed down.

A yell was cut off as the air rushed out of his lungs -- the branch had slammed into him -- slammed him back into the thick trunk of another tree, and a series of tell-tale CRRRKKKKHHs resounded.

The branch fell away and so did he, finding himself in a lethal cycle --body desperate for air, but every breath CUT, the pain SEARED, breathing felt perversely like the absolute WRONG thing to do --that he would tear his lungs to ribbons if he expanded them against his splintered chest.

But he was so in need.

He lay literally gasping for his life.

His mind clouded over....

And as it would happen, so did the surrounding area.

Fog permeated the woods so if any foolhardy or militant souls were left, they'd be absolutely blind. The fog was oddly sectional, however, and where bodies lay it was clearer.

Cyclops, no longer blasting, had a vague, visual registration of the scene before his faculties fell further away.

....Jean.
He'd thought of her. He'd seen her....
No. She shouldn't have been there. No where near this.
He felt his lungs fill with a breath he hadn't taken.
They filled gradually, deeply, painfully.
Yet they didn't shred.
Another...
...Familiar lips on his.



"I still say, it doesn't matter who she is. That scene in the forest looked like a scene I would've left. Only worse. I know how you two feel about this sorta' thing, but you let Xavier put blocks in your mind when your power was only considered too dangerous. I mean come on -Scott was nearly among those in the pile out there." concluded the gruff voice of Wolverine.

Jean didn't need to be reminded -of the scene or how close she came to losing Scott. Truly his only saving grace might've been that he hadn't been right there when it all went down; there was no entertaining the idea that Ryder would've discriminated. "That carnage was a reactionary result," Jean pointed out in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, "Ryder felt cornered. Threatened. She's been a lab experiment all her life. If either myself or Charles try anything in her mind, she might react on an instinctive level to the exact result we're trying to avoid."

"She's been unconscious. And the longer we wait the less she's probably gonna' stay that way."

"We're not waiting, Logan."

"Right. We've just been having regular round table discussions about how exactly we should act. Same difference."

"Not to forget, she may not be quite as unconscious as she's seemed," came the hirsute voice of reason of The Beast, "though, as far as we are aware, he has been proceeding without evidential certainty on the matter, Charles has been proceeding on that thought, none-the-less. So far the place hasn't come crashing down around us."

"So far. If you ask me, Chuck is too close to this to base anything around. . .At least he's sound enough on the subject to keep her in the Danger Room."

And so that's where Ryder had been since the X-Men arrived on the unspeakable scene and jetted her, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Xavier back to the Mansion.
The Danger Room, some distance down the basement hallway from the Ready Room where the X-Men were having yet another meeting on the matter of "Ryder Xavier".

Despite Ryder's extensive injuries, she hadn't been housed in the Medical Lab for a moment. It was deemed too risky, especially as Cyclops would be recovering there. Not only was the Danger Room the most fortified of the entire building, being that the X-Men could train at realistic intensity, but the simulation technology it contained could also be utilized -and was- to make the environment appear more welcoming.

The very last thing they wanted was for Ryder to think she had just traded one captive situation for another.

They made the room look like one of the Mansion's bedrooms, complete with a window. That being said, they didn't want the gesture to be misconstrued as some ulterior motive illusion, and so they lowered the realism of the sim so it did appear, more or less, holographic. Ryder would be able to grasp her setting was manufactured, and they would be agreeable to changing it if she didn't appreciate their aesthetic.

They didn't delude themselves either --knowing full well once she was awake, it likely wouldn't take long for her to get a technic read on the place and be able to adjust the simulation at will. But at least anything she could do with it would be contained within this space. Beyond it, they had removed anything they thought she could use as a weapon, going analog where possible.

A return trip had also been made to Umbra within these past three weeks, with the intent to shut the place down. They were unable to locate Becker, and the only hidden rooms they found were the ones Jean already came across. But they had seen to absorbing the young charges into Xavier's institute, and had recovered some things, including -thanks to Beast's eye for advanced technology- a bit of the material the guards had had which blocked Ryder's powers. Beast had what amounted to an educated idea that's what it could do, anyway, and was currently in the midst of understanding it so he could do something with it himself.

In the meantime, Xavier had been making regular visits to the Danger Room to visit his daughter.
And for at least the past week, he had been making mental visits, too. Even in true coma, a mind was still active where the body wasn't.

He took it slow. Like a new neighbour making themselves known in no greater way than merely being outside, doing things in their own yard. Smiling when they'd catch your eye, but not making an attempt to draw you into conversation.

Today, Xavier decided to knock politely on the door, as for the first time the curtains hadn't been drawn. He had been able to see a few scenes within the mental "house" -Ryder seemingly going over her days at the Mansion so far.

They hadn't consisted of much beyond what care someone in her state would require, which was mostly carried out by Jean both because, despite the odd sensations she'd experienced, they felt she was best suited power-wise to be in such a position -a decision Cyclops couldn't argue, though he felt uneasy about each time Jean went in- and because from what Jean understood from the facility, it never seemed like Ryder was dealt with by anyone but males. They thought Jean would feel like a less hostile presence to her. As well, Jean had her level of empathy gained from the knowledge of Ryder's life.

Her husband's discomfort notwithstanding, Jean took the position willingly and, truth be told, had made similar "visitation attempts" to Xavier's, from a place of wanting to understand this girl. Both her pain, and how she could manage the degree she inflicted on others. That scene in the forest was the very embodiment of blind rage, and Jean wondered how Ryder's mind was processing that; if it even realized. But she had been treading even more carefully than Xavier.

Xavier was cognizant of Jean "stepping" here, like noticing remnants of footprints on the sidewalk. He had to smile at this. Though, he didn't perceive she had gotten as far as he now had.

This apparent fact pleased him all the more.

If the mind was a physical place, then Ryder’s was a minefield.

Ordinarily, her mind was a steel vault- Nothing could penetrate it. But now, she opened the doors and silently dared someone to try and take a peek. For the past few weeks, the girl had been doing her damndest to keep her coma believable. She knew, hours after being brought here, that she was in a simulation that these strangers called the Danger Room. A proving ground of some sort where people threw themselves at holograms and machines. The place had security, cameras and electronic protections here and there. She could tell they were dancing around her, since there were dark spots between the strings in her weh of influence, places they made sure didn’t have anything she could weaponize. But negative space still had a shape.

Ryder pretended to be asleep, doing her best to keep herself totally still while going into a borderline meditative state over the last few weeks. She practically became the digital system of the building, while her body went so still that there were no readouts on the medical equipment suggedtigg by she was “active.” It was a wonder that Xavier could detect anything at all, with her being so focused on scanning her surroundings. But Ryder knew an intruder on her territory just as well as they would know one on there’s. So she allowed the vault doors to crack open, just wide enough for an echo to escape. It kept the old man’s interest, to an extent that kept him coming back. She didn’t try to read him, knowing it would rouse suspicion. No,instead, she let the minefield do its job.

Keeping one eye on her existence and another on the web of information that every computer, radio and phone in the building created, Ryder allowed this intruder to snoop around. The other one wasn’t willing to go very far, and she didn’t bother as a result. To Xavier, the “curtains” would show nothing. A still house with the presence of life, but not the actions. Perhaps someone was upstairs, or hiding just to the side of the windows, knowing someone was watching for them in case they closed the blinds.

Ryder recognized a few of the faces he dragged across the world. No one she ever met in person, but secretly had plenty of information on due to her constant vigilance against Umbra’s cruelty. None of them meant a damn thing to her. They were treated better than her, despite being lab rats, so why should she? Half of them weren’t even considerably threats to her, and none of them knew she existed. Ryder preferred that over the alternative.

Even when they poked at her wounds, she managed to resist the nigh-indomitable instinct to snap someone in half. She hated being picked at in such a way, even when it was for a good reason. Her cover was almost blown twice, and the blue one was almost proven right when Jean tried to remove some bits of molten plastic from her skin. At that point, she had to telekinetically hold herself in place just to avoid decapitating the woman. Ryder didn’t find herself feeling surprised when Jean tread more careful than the old man. If anything, Xavier was just being outright by thinking an impenetrable fortress would just allow him inside, with no circumstances attatched.

Stupid enough, in fact, that he stepped on a landmine.

The proverbial door wasn’t answered, because for someone to answer it implied the door was closed. She left it open, and the knock opened it wider. No one appeared home, but then he was pulled inwards. A hook found itself embedded in his mind, and dragged him into the room beyond that door, which snapped shut with such a fury behind it that there was no question as to how awake Ryder truly was.

And then the metaphorical psychic room became a literal room. Something possibly familiar to Xavier, who was accustomed to entering someone’s mind. Only it wasn’t as inviting as his thought process might’ve led him to believe. The walls and floor were a depressing, dark blue, made of some kind of wood. There were windows, but they led to an absolute nothing. Everything felt heavy in this room, heavy in the sense that there was little separating it from physical reality. The walls felt real to the touch, and they felt ice cold.

Xavier was not invited, he was detained.

He was alone in a place where he did not belong. A place that hated his existence, where the very air seemed to bristle against his form.

YOU ARE A FUCKING IDIOT, OLD MAN

The voice was like a bad dream, echoing off of every atom in Xavier’s body. It was inside his head, outside, and everywhere else in a way that only made sense in the mind, as though a god had come down from the sky and screamed.

One minute she was nowhere, and she was present the next.

Ryder manifested before him, dressed no differently than the way she was found three weeks ago. And she looked disgusted by Charles’ presence.

”You poked a bear for weeks. And now it’s got you. Explain yourself right fucking now, before I shatter you.”

How could this child, who hated the world and everything in it so much, be the daughter of Charles Xavier?

Xavier was a man of deep control. One had to be when you could connect yourself to the minds of everyone on the planet. Cerebro was a tool to help channel, target and enhance, but Xavier's mind was a well honed tool itself, and could do much on its own.

He could make people forget, he could implant impulses. A telepath could make you jump off buildings if they were skilled enough and so inclined.

Of course Xavier never was.
Inclined, that is. He was certainly that skilled, and the reality that he could do those things, easily, simply -as though he were writing a book and dictating the actions of a character, was exactly the reality that kept him in check.

A reality he had to keep a firm hold on if he were ever to see his dream of a peaceable existence between mutants and non-mutants.

All that to say, as much as Xavier kept in control was as much as he appeared in control; calm in the face of danger, benign. The unassuming old man in a wheelchair. Perhaps Ryder being Xavier's kin wasn't so foreign an idea when considered this way; he played the parts he had to, as well.

In Xavier's case, he never set out to deceive. Wasn't taking in information so he could launch an informed assault. He just. . .knew who he had to be for whom.

Like the teenager who would mouth off with friends, yet be the picture of manners with Grandma. It wasn't that one nature was true and the other false. It was that life prompted different aspects of yourself to be in the driver's seat at different times. Many selves made up the one, including secret selves.

Xavier wasn't looking to expose that "self" of Ryder, but he suspected there was something less hostile beside and behind the feral survivor who'd had to be in that driver's seat her entire life. Perhaps selves she didn't even acquaint herself with but might find she'd like to know.

All in good time.

And all that to say, Xavier wasn't quite so naive as he appeared, knocking on the wall of a highly fortified structure.
He crossed the threshold with vigilance. Yes, the hook-and-pull still felt as abrupt as you'd expect. Certain nervous reactions cannot be helped; the startle reflex from a sudden noise.

But he didn't feel genuinely afraid.
Instead, Xavier explored this space, running his hand along the peculiar wood paneling, feeling the cold against his fingers; symbolic of what "touch" she's known, he was sure. Staring out the windows into nothingness -a nothing somehow so complete it was like when people said you could "feel" the tension in a room; he felt like he was staring at something. As Ryder had observed, even negative space had a shape.

In a place so filled with hostility toward an occupant -a captive, it was easy for Xavier to imagine something hiding in that nothing. Like a child's claim of monsters being in all the dark places.

So alive,
yet unreal.

Xavier realized he was bracing himself, and in the next moment he understood; like feeling the shift in the atmosphere before a lightning strike.

YOU ARE A FUCKING IDIOT, OLD MAN

Her words crashed through his every cell -as though trying to disconnect any of his that had to do with her, as though she wanted to be left alone on a genetic level.

There are some things in life even the most prepared -even the most prepared mind cannot fully be ready for.
Xavier found himself reeling,

and then she was right there before him as though she had been from the first second.
And of course, in a cerebral sense, she had.

A demand and a jacked threat.
Xavier anticipated something along these lines, yet naive perhaps he still was, as he hadn't expected it quite like this.

Regardless, he continued to exude calm as he answered her, but the type that could be defined as "careful treading"; picking through the mines. "We have been caring for your healing body. I will not lie and say interest in your mutation isn't also present. Jean is a geneticist, Hank's interests run the gamut, and yes, everyone is curious given your origins. . .But we are not Umbra. You may recall the purpose of this school, which I'm certain you know is where we are, is to help young mutants, powerful, or not," even so early in knowing of her, he spoke with every awareness that Ryder was, perhaps more than anyone he had or would encounter, most definitely in that first category, "to feel safe. Both within and over their environment. You are not a specimen here, Ryder, nor shall you be treated as one."

There was something of a promise there. If there had been any prodding that skewed more scientific than medical -besides the DNA confirmation which they did perform- there would be no more without consent. Xavier would make certain of that.

He had been explaining "himself" in a general way, but concluded more personally: "I am not interested in what you are, beyond what you have been in the eyes of others. Only who you are."

Now, there was a different kindness. He may see her as "his", though not so much in the possessive sense. Only a desire for some connection, and, at this point, more for her than for himself. Certainly she'd had none of any kind at Umbra.

She knew they'd been tending to her while she pretended to be out cold. That much was apparent. She also knew that they had been keeping her far away from the laser guy they called Scott. Presumably, because Ryder proved repeatedly just how dangerous she could be. Yet despite that, both "Jean" and this fucking dumbass had the gall to tread in the once place that they, as telepaths, should know better than to enter uninvited. She knew Hank to be the blue guy, and that he had the vibranium used to deter Ryder's powers under a microscope. But beyond that, none of Xavier's words were anything above hollow. Umbra propped itself up as a safe place for most people who weren't Ryder. Umbra pretended to care. And just a few platitudes weren't going to sell this place to her as anything different. Certainly not when this old man was inside her mind. He even looked like he was in control, by the way his attitude appeared.

"I don't give a damn about what you're interested in. My powers and my "origins" don't concern any of you. And I'm not staying here, so you can find someone else to stick in your fancy little mansion." It really didn't sit right with her, the way Xavier talked as if it was just a guarantee that she'd stick around after she could officially walk without falling over again. It sounded possessive, like someone who wanted to keep an animal in a box; Safe, because the keeper wants their pet in good condition.

"You bastards locked me in a digital cage, try to break into my head for weeks, and you think I care one fucking bit how you feel about me? My name is Ryder, and I'm pissed. That's all you have any reason to know. As soon as I can stand up without falling back over, I'm leaving. Follow me, and I'll fucking kill all of you. Got it?"

Xavier's face showed discomfort at Ryder thinking she was caged, just like in Umbra.

"This is not a cage, and you are not locked in. I acknowledge you are. . .agitated. You have every right to lash out and I thank you for inviting me in," he slightly emphasized; having not exactly broken in, "instead of immediately doing so. We placed you in here hoping it would afford such a chance to talk. . .without additional incident." He almost left off that last part, but in the interest of transparency.

"If you would like, while you continue to recover, I can show you around the rest of this," he smiled, "fancy little mansion."

Ryder could've wreaked havoc already. Perhaps she had learned her limits and was truly biding her time for herself, but Xavier felt the restraint showed perhaps a sliver of promise beyond that, or he wanted to believe so. In either case, she hadn't exactly shown herself to be a loose cannon -every assault she'd waged, whether technical or otherwise, had been planned in response to being kept against her will, or a survival reaction to being confronted.

All things considered, he didn't feel he would be putting the other mansion occupants at risk by making good on his offer. Ryder had as well proved she was not quite the wounded tiger Xavier had posited her to be back when he and Cyclops had been tracking her, which been the main reason for keeping her out of the medical bay while Scott was recovering; lest she fight instinctually at her earliest waking.

---

Meanwhile, the X-Men's meeting had just concluded.

If you were there to ask Logan how it went, he'd have said "same as the last one", meaning it hadn't really gotten anywhere.

They dispersed, Beast going back to the lab, and Jean and Logan heading to the elevator. The former ultimately on her way to the Grounds where Storm was helping Scott with his breathing exercises. It was common for someone with damaged ribs to breathe shallowly due to the pain, which could lead to an even more compromised condition. Deep breathing exercises were therefore required.

Logan noticed Jean pause, however, instead of getting on the elevator with him. She looked like she was being affected by something.
"What is it?"

Jean's attention went down the hall to the Danger Room before she answered: ". . .it's nothing." Then joined him.

"Look, if it's anything to do with Chuck's kid. . ." he kind of wanted to know.

". . .They might be talking. I just felt an intense. . .telepathic atmosphere."

Well that didn't sound good. "Intense like how?"

"Not like we should be heading for the Disaster Shelter. Don't worry, Logan."

The elevator reached the ground floor and they both stepped out, Jean continuing on her way while Logan stood there a moment, watching her with a look like: 'somebody has to'. That being thought, he did trust Jean. If she told him not to worry. . .he could at least shelve it.

In reality, Jean did feel concerned, though what was going on in the Danger Room right now wasn't what was top of mind.
As a general rule, she didn't enter someone's mind without their permission and she certainly didn't have it with Ryder. . .in truth, when she first did so, she had only been considering it. Ryder was a deeply guarded girl. If there was something to be learned from her mind that could help them help her, or help them stave off what other intent someone who held so much anger may have, this might be their best opportunity.

And then Jean just found herself in Ryder's "neighborhood".
It was something new Jean was experiencing: her telepathy would be off every now and again. She'd "tune in" without intending to.

She didn't know if this was related to the pregnancy, or the cerebral trip she took on discovering Ryder's room at Umbra.

A blip was one thing. But on reflection of it afterward, how Jean was even allowed to "walk around the neighborhood", she thought. . .perhaps she wasn't trespassing. Whether or not it indicated a different state of consciousness than she appeared to have, Ryder's mind certainly felt more active than someone of her apparent condition.

Where Xavier felt perhaps Ryder was letting him in, Jean wondered if perhaps Ryder was reaching out. . .Perhaps she did want help and Jean being able to walk in her mind was permissive.

But Jean second guessed herself; she could just as well have been taking advantage, giving herself an excuse. . .and that certainly didn't sit well with her.

Hence why she only went so far.

Jean was smart. After all, the worst time to sneak up on a predator was when it was staring down prey. Ryder did feel some sort of gentle wave brush against her mind, as if something passed by without any active intent. If someone was watching them, spying on them, then maybe they’d know better than to walk into a trap now that it was sprung.

Just who the hell did this old man think he was, admitting she was in this “danger room” to avoid further “incidents” and then offering to let her walk around freely without missing a beat.

”I already know where everything important is. The blue guy’s staring at a bunch of metal in some big ass lab, the scruffy one’s sulking about me being here while someone is watching both of us. I CAN FUCKING SENSE YOU, BACK OFF!” Her mind exploded out, sending that last part as a telepathic message to the presence she felt, with all the force of being psychically slapped across the face. By far, it was the most measured reaction anyone had likely seen out of her this whole time, albeit entirely unwarranted.

You’ve got your jet buried under your little “school” and you’ve got more security than a prime minister.”

Xavier had to have seen this coming when he brought her here. Now it was made clear that Ryder had been awake- Or at the very least, active- for a lot longer than what anyone had assumed. It might have been two days since she woke up, or two weeks.

”I’m getting really sick and damn tired of everyone putting me somewhere they think I won’t cause collateral damage. So sure, I’ll fucking walk around, and the first person who even breathes about putting me back here is getting vaporized. I will tear this place out from the ground and throw it into the god damn sun if I think someone’s about to try something funny.”

What Ryder didn’t admit was that keeping herself telekinetically restrained to a bed for so long made her legs ache. And her arms, and pretty much everything on top of the gunshot wound and the stab. So she get like moving around.

Outside the Mansion

"And one more deep, slow breath in," Storm spoke, voice full of reverence for the air. She'd been using her powers to make the immediately surrounding air the choicest in terms of temperature and moisture content for Cyclops' exercises.

His actions matched her words ahead of them being said. He held the breath at its peak, as he was supposed to for a few seconds.

Jean joined them: "How's it going out here?"

Cyclops released the breath. "Much easier with Storm's assistance."
Halfway through the average recovery timeline for broken ribs, the pain was still excruciating, but he was getting there.

"People often forget the benefits of simply breathing well!"

"How'd the meeting go?"

Jean was on the cusp of answering when she flinched as though violently struck --her hand immediately going to her head.

Cyclops was already stepping towards her as he exchanged a look with Storm. "Jean?"
He placed his hand on her.

Jean gradually opened her eyes with the subsiding pain. It had happened again, that much was clear by Ryder's words before the hit.
Unintentionally Jean must've "connected". . .this realization troubled her anew.

"Are you alright? What just happened?"

"Yes. I'm fine. . .Just a sudden wave."

"She's awake. Isn't she?"

Jean looked at him. She hadn't wanted to be specific; no avoiding it, now.
"I think she and Charles are talking."

"Do we take this as his assumptions proven true?"

"Maybe. Ryder's mind is hard to read. . .It's been more active than one typically would be in a coma, yet less active than a mind awake.
At least it's felt that way."

"If she's conscious enough to affect her surroundings and has been for longer than today, she's shown remarkable restraint."

"With what she's endured, she's probably used to shutting down, escaping some place in her mind. . .Even treating her medically has probably felt invasive."

Cyclops inclined his head with thought.
When it came to Ryder, he was of two minds.
That face-off in the parking lot which flashed his mind back to the worst moment in Jean's life (precipitating the worst in his). . .How could someone Ryder's age cope with all that power?
Though "cope with" wasn't an accurate descriptor for her relationship with her powers. If anything, she seemed to relish the amount she had. And where Jean had lost control, Ryder seemed to have it in spades.

That was what Cyclops found remarkable. And understandable.
Given the life Ryder was subjected to, any chance she had to actually have a sense of control she likely put every scrap of her energy into, once she recognized it.

On his own level, Cyclops could relate to that kind of needing.
But like with Jean, the similarities warped.

If Cyclops lost control, bad things could happen. It was a fear he still carried with him.
Due caution and attention still given every time he switched his eyewear. Routine, yet never to the point where he just did it on automatic.

In contrast, Ryder didn't seem to care about hurting people. On the one hand, that could be explained away by her upbringing. She seemed to view people under the typing of the Umbra scientists: there to restrict her, to take control from her. Seeing her as less than human. . .and so she viewed them; a learned mentality.
Her manner then was more "psychology interrupted" than psychopathy -it wasn't like she'd seemed to get off on the hurting. She didn't stand there watching Cyclops bleed out after she'd shot him.
Only did what she'd deemed necessary, then moved on to the next step towards freedom.

On the other hand, did the rationale of it matter when she could maim and even kill people without a second thought?

More than her power, this was what troubled Cyclops.

Though he didn't actually know if it went that far. . .As far as he did, the only time Ryder actually had killed was the massacre. , .he'd "witnessed it" only as much as what he'd heard and felt in his body, having not made it far enough to see. But to hear Wolverine -who'd been tasked with getting Ryder- tell it.

Then, whether playing possum or not, Ryder had been "unconscious". There'd been no time to see what affect her part in the event had had on herself. Maybe the moment was one that would stay with her. . .

---

Xavier grew serious. "I do apologize. They are not mere words when I say I do not view you as the weapon Umbra seemed to fear, or prompt, you to be. Keeping you in here should not have been done. If you will see us out of this place in your mind, I will see you out of the Danger Room."

"I do apologize. They are not mere words when I say I do not view you as the weapon Umbra seemed to fear, or prompt, you to be.“

So, they had some sort of idea as to what Umbra was doing. It should’ve reassured Ryder to some extent, made her feel a bit less ostracized in this new place- Especially when she technically got what she wanted. She was out of Umbra’s grip. But Xavier’s platitude didn’t feel like anything more than hollow. To Ryder, he made a blunder putting her in here and then trying to backpedal, by saying it was pointless when he did it himself.

And so, wordlessly, Ryder dragged the old man back out of her mind. The sensation felt unpleasant to say the least. It was like the psychic equivalent of cold water. Suddenly, they were back in the Danger Room again, and Ryder was on her feet. Despite her injuries, she seemed fine. She was undoubtedly not truly fine. She was in here for a reason after all, but Ryder crossed her arms and looked at Xavier with a deadpan expression.

”Anyone sticks me in here again, and I’ll turn this fancy “danger room” of yours inside out and trap them in it like a coffin. Start moving.” Quietly, she was peering through the nearest cameras expecting someone to be behind them. Ryder did not trust Charles yet. Trust wasn’t on the table for her.

Xavier watched Ryder -not like one waiting for her to explode, but like one wanting to see beyond the surface.
He felt he had taken at least one other correct step, though also like he may've only been making up for steps already taken backwards.

Perhaps he had been too focused -too thrown, by the knowledge of this individual being his daughter, that he hadn't asserted himself as he should've when the Danger Room idea had been proposed. But then again. . .the X-Men -and of course the students- were like his children. He did have to be prudent. His mistake was not being so holistically.

Strike one, perhaps?

At least he was granted this second chance.
Xavier couldn't resist closing his eyes momentarily at the unpleasant sensation that washed over him as Ryder relinquished her mental hold.

His watchfulness then returned as she got herself off the bed.

"I'll be sure to let them know," he responded, not humouring her. In fact, he had a mental message for his X-Men, but before sending it he informed Ryder, as he swiveled his wheelchair around to the door, "in case you may need, I do have spares," tapping the arm of the assistive device, before pressing the switch to travel forward.

It was at this point he delivered a quick message to the others: 'Ryder is awake and has expressed interest in seeing more of her new surroundings. No need to overwhelm her, though as it has been a little while since we welcomed someone new, let's not forget ourselves.'

He did this on a "private line", but putting nothing past the inheritor of his x-gene, he didn't make it quite so private as he could've. Lest she be able to pick up on the "static" or "blankness" of a channel for which she knows is there, yet is otherwise barred from, as Xavier was certain that would be another misstep.

So, just in case Ryder may be tuning in, he chose an innocuous reminder to his team of individuals to conduct themselves accordingly.

---

In his room, Logan raised his head at the receipt of the message, then almost shook it.

But, he didn't know the Professor to make a habit of not knowing what he was doing, even if it could look that way sometimes. . .Logan himself was still here this many years on, after all.

Still, he was glad the regular amount of students weren't here right now, given they were between semesters.
He had a feeling Xavier's kid wouldn't go berserk on other kids, yet in his experience kids had a talent for pushing buttons they really should not even think of getting near.

---

Almost as one, the three adults outside also took attention.

"No need to overwhelm her" -they were not being requested to all assemble for a proper introduction; that would come in time. "Let's not forget ourselves" -though if the tour happened to bring them into each other's company, cast aside your qualms and let your better self lead.

"I've had my own welcome for Ryder in mind. I think I will take this opportunity," Storm excused herself. Partly because what she said was true, and partly because she sensed there was something the couple may want, or need, to talk about.

"Thanks for your help with the exercises." Scott then turned to Jean. It took him a minute to find his words, "you know I never thought I'd wish we had someplace else to go, but if Ryder is going to keep affecting you maybe we should find something."

"It's not like that, Scott."

"How isn't it -you still weren't even in the room with her and just felt something again."

". . .it was targeted. She was telling me to mind my own business."

Scott did a shift from looking concernedly riled at the "targeted" to looking confused.

"I accidentally 'looked in', I guess, when I was near the Danger Room. I could feel an outpouring of telepathic energy though I hadn't meant to explore it. . .This has been happening since we got back, and only with Ryder. . .so far."

"Then that's even more serious."

She looked at him squarely. "She might not be what's throwing me off. We have or own situation we can't predict."

His attention followed hers down to where their "own situation" was just starting to be evident.
He set his hand there, but not long.

Jean noticed at what moment he drew it away.

---

Meanwhile, outside the Danger Room. . .

"You may recall me saying how a few of my grown students help to protect those who need it. Collectively they are the 'X-Men', and our facilities down here are mostly dedicated to their work; as you've undoubtedly gathered, the Danger Room is typically used for training. Down that end of the hall lies a 'Ready Room' where missions may be planned before they set out, usually through the Hanger.

Then there is the Medical Bay, and Lab; not for exploitative experimentation," he repeated his previous assurance solemnly.

So far he was only pointing these rooms out as there was one that related more personally to this moment; at the right end of the hall, nearer to them. He now indicated it: "And, you may already have some sense as well of the device that is through there. It is one I created with the aid of an old friend, which allows me to find mutants all over the world. Those I know of, and those I'm alerted to by a strong display of their x-gene."

At this, Xavier paused, eyes closing again as he spoke with palpable regret: "I have only an idea on why it did not alert me to you. . ." he opened his eyes, "I believe Umbra was somehow able to account for what they knew of my power," the unknowns of this disturbed him, "I specifically looked at the facility after a report from Jean of odd psychic experiences. It showed me nothing."

The moment was interrupted by the fifth X-Man, who decided -after finishing some lab notes- to respond actively to Xavier's telepathic message, given they were just down the hall.

"Salutations," Beast greeted, even before he came up to them. "It's always heartening when progress is shown by one on the mend." His way of saying it was nice to see her health hadn't worsened; instead improved enough that she was up and about. "To make your acquaintance, I am Dr. Henry McCoy. Though I more regularly take the moniker of 'Hank' or 'Beast'." He held out his hand.

Whether his graciousness was perceived as genuine or not, it was.

Ryder didn't think she needed someone's help to walk. Shitty as it was to have such a mindset, she bit back a quick "My legs still work," since she didn't feel like talking further at the moment. If she really wanted, she could probably just float off of the ground, assuming her powers would let her. Ryder had never tried levitating, preferring to just slingshot her in different directions. She followed the old man down the hallway, listening to him closely. The "X-Men" was something that sounded vaguely familiar to Ryder. She heard about them once or twice during one of her many nights violating every security measure in Umbra's system. Nothing that made them stand out to her much, though. Her mind stretched out and felt around in the "ready room" for a moment. It didn't seem to imposing, just a bunch of chairs, computers and shit.

When he started talking about the curious device behind one door in particular, Ryder knew it must've been the one that slightly messed with her head. During her "coma," she tried to hijack it, only to find that it saw through a billion different eyes, and quickly found herself stumbling into a real coma. Backpedaling out, she chose not to interact with it further, or even hint at this at the moment. Whatever was back there let Xavier connect to countless minds, and she made a mental note of how his telepathy seemed to be expressed as a result of this.

"Umbra can block things like that. They put their fancy research somewhere in my brain, after all." Ryder was, of course, eluding to the fact that she knew about the experiments conducted on her, and the fact that there was biomechanical technology in her brain that made her a black hole for telepathy. She only said this, however, because she assumed the X-Men already knew after taking such a vested interest in it. So it wasn't as much of a gesture of trust as it may have seemed. She didn't feel like sharing information with Xavier unless she felt like it was known already.

Or the ugly blue fuck that walked in.

Ryder turned around and leveled a godawful glare at Beast. If looks could kill, then the doctor would've been atomized on the spot. She already knew about him, and that he was studying that weird stuff Umbra used. But she didn't shake his hand. Rather, she took a step back, deciding that she liked her personal space. "Ryder," she said. Not Ryder Xavier, just Ryder. "You're the one who snatched up all the Vibranium from Umbra. Shit's not worth a damn, you're wasting your time there."

It seemed she knew more than she had let on.

"Regardless who's throwing you off Ryder still has some affect on you -beside the point is if it's intentional or not."

"And how will it come off if I leave now? It's not serious enough that I need to. . .and if we want Ryder to trust us it has to go both ways. I at least want to explain this to her. She might be the one who'd feel more comfortable with me being anywhere else, if I can't control entering her mind."

"If she doesn't take that as some convenient excuse."

"There's some part of her that recognizes we're not her enemies. . .Consider what she didn't do to you and Charles," Jean looked as straight into his eyes as she could with a visor inbetween -he wasn't wearing his off-duty glasses, "or to all of us since she's been here, if she has been awake enough to do anything."

Scott couldn't argue with that.

"If the truth is going to backfire, I don't believe it will be anything we can't walk away from then."

---

"Quite so," Xavier responded, heavily, to Ryder's allusion of the biotech in her brain.

She was completely correct in assuming the X-Men knew about this. Medical scans had been performed as soon as possible, and though they couldn't identify precisely what was in the centre of Ryder's mind, there was just-discernably something unnatural there. Much too deep to consider removal unless they wanted to obliterate her life via doing so to her brain.

Of course there was the concern of what whole purpose did it serve?
Augmenting her powers the X-Men could surmise. If there was anything else, they accepted the risk.

They at least felt reasonably confident "anything else" didn't include some failsafe of the explosive kill switch variety, or at least didn't feel in danger of it being set off while she was here, or it likely would've been already. If Umbra hadn't seemed authentically determined to keep Ryder under wraps, and recover her, the X-Men might've suspected her as a plant; a walking surveillance camera. More than a few people might like eyes-in on X-HQ, after all.

Xavier turned to observe the first non-field interaction between Ryder and one of his X-Men.

Beast retracted his unshaken hand, noting how Ryder had backed away, and mentally chastised himself for incorrectly prioritizing friendly manners over boundaries.
Though she had returned the courtesy of her name, without snark, which felt like something.

Of course the man who shared her genes hadn't expected her to make verbal share of his last name.

"Vibranium, you say?" He cupped his chin in his hand. "I haven't come across that in either life or literature. I wonder how Umbra had? It must hold some value." At this point he was thinking out loud more than conversing.

"While you, no doubt, figure out if it does my friend, we have a tour to continue." For now, Xavier cast aside some of the weight of his feelings.

"Very well. Until our next encounter then, Ryder." Beast said cordially before walking off, at which point he could be heard musing to himself, "perhaps I have come across it, only under a different name. . .which then presents the dilemma of how would I know?"

Xavier then lead the way into the elevator,
which in short time opened to the main floor.

He rolled out and along at an easy pace as he continued:
"This floor is made up of what you could call the school proper. Most of the classrooms are on this level as well as my office, and common rooms which include the cafeteria. Incidentally, if you would like anything, we can make a stop before continuing on." At this, Xavier paused his movement.

It was almost funny how Ryder knew what Vibranium was and the so-called smart guy around here didn’t. Umbra had a whole section of their database dedicated to its uses, namely the ones that involved blocking out telepaths. And like anyone or anything else at Umbra, Ryder read those secrets like a book. She wasn’t in the mood to lecture them about it, though. And frankly, Ryder didn’t give a damn if they learned anything about it or not.

As they went up a floor, Ryder pushed her mind out passively, taking in a relative point of “where” in her abstract map of this place. This was where the bulk of the cameras the swept her power across seemed to be. ”You ever been hacked by someone before? This place is about as secure a cardboard box,” She jabbed. From the moment they brought Ryder in, she had a grasp on all of the electronic security measure the mansion was using.

They stopped, and Ryder concluded that she might as well eat something. Back at Umbra, food was nothing to hope for. She was fed three times a day, in calculated portions. The bare minimum to account for her power testing, and her sustainment as a person that required food and water. And she was… Hungry. Though she didn’t want to feel like she was placating to him. ”Sure.” She walked further down the hall at the same pace, ahead of Xavier. Ryder already knew where it all was.

As well as everything inside, as well. By the time Xavier caught up with her, pieces of bread and sliced meat floated out from behind doors on the far side. Paranoid tendencies aside, she simply felt like not walking further. It was the blandest sandwich on the planet, but it was better than the slop Umbra gave her. ”Whats the deal with this place being empty? It’s bigger than just three or four people.”

Scott was quiet for the length of a couple painful breaths, though that wasn't why. He was thinking.
Then: "How about a walk right now?"

After a second, Jean smiled.

Together they set off for a section of the Grounds further from the school, where there was a pond and dotting of trees.
One in particular they liked, for the history they had there.

---

Xavier was a shrewd man, and suspected Ryder knew more about the Vibranium than she was letting on. What he didn't know was why she chose to keep whatever properties it had to herself. It definitely wouldn't be for any reasons of loyalty towards Umbra, so it had to be something she valued for herself.

But that could be reasoned out later. Xavier didn't dedicate another moment of thought to that piece of the Ryder puzzle.

As she decided to lead her own way, Xavier had actually smiled and thought to himself: 'She doesn't require this tour, does she?' though the smile soon faded.
She was always many steps ahead, figuratively -and right now, literally. Keeping on top of her surroundings, making what seemed instant yet were surely calculated decisions.

A master of domain in a world out to subdue her.
A fearful being snatching courage everywhere she knew to find it?

"There are some chopped vegetables in that one, to the back," Xavier commented, non-judgmentally, of one of the cafeteria's refrigeration units. Just ahead of Ryder posing her question.

"Right now isn't one of the scheduled mealtimes, and while it's certainly common to find foragers in-between," he said with some fondness of the growing youth under his care, "many of our students are currently taking advantage of the school break. Though others are here year round, their dorms are for their privacy." he added as an explanation for why Ryder might not've seen them if she were going by cameras alone. Xavier stated it simply, yet there was an assurance there: here, the children were not monitored like lab rats. "However on a day like today, I should think most are out on the Grounds. Which is where I imagine you'd prefer to be as well than on this stuffy tour. We'll head outside after we're through here."

He had wheeled over to a sideboard where coffee or tea could be made, and went about fixing the latter for himself and, without asking, a cup of black tea was made for Ryder as well and set down in front of her. "You may want something to aid your digestion, since your stomach hasn't had solid foods since you arrived." Medically, they had been meeting her nutritional requirements.

Ryder didn't bother with the vegetables. She just stared out a window as if she were looking for something. Even now, her mind was tapped into the cameras and everything these fools didn't think needed to be secured from psychic intrusion. There were dozens, or even a hundred or more people who stayed here at one time. Ryder could possibly dig deep enough to find names, and then flip through every single one to see if any stood out. But she didn't particularly care, and it wouldn't tell her much if she did. What stood out, however, was the ever-so-minor detail that the dorms didn't have cameras. They had privacy, something Ryder didn't have back at Umbra. There were at least 3 cameras in her "bedroom" that Ryder had been aware of, and likely a sweep of others she never found for one reason or another. She wouldn't rule out the possibility that Umbra had a few vibranium-plated ones in the ceiling, as a last resort if they needed to keep an eye on her after she destroyed the others.

Not that it won the old man any points. She still didn't trust this place.

She eyed the black tea that Xavier sat in front of her, but didn't drink it. Not yet, at least. She didn't keep her eyes on him as he made it, and was more than willingly to assume he put something in it with absolutely zero evidence. So silently, she just let it go for the time being. Granted, if they wanted to poison her, they had weeks to do so, but this was how Ryder's thought process worked. And right now, it was working double time.

She stared Xavier down while she contemplated something, unbothered by the fact that he was a psychic as well. After all, if she even thought he was trespassing on her mind, he'd be dead before he could blink. "...I'll leave whenever I feel like it, and you won't stop me." It was a statement, rather than a question. "So tell me why I shouldn't just jump into the sky and get back to what I was trying to do, the second I walk outside." She was trying to dissect Xavier's invitation to step outside. Of course, Ryder intended to regardless, seeing as she hadn't set foot in open air once beyond the time she broke out of Umbra. But at that point, Xavier had to give her a damn fine reason to stay. They witnessed what she'd do to free herself from a pursuit a few weeks ago, and if they tried to chase her, that ferocity would be turned on them.

"Unless you want to take your chances chasing me for a second time, it better be good." That could've been a threat, or just less-than-friendly advice. It was hard to say, coming from Ryder.