Cyclops took in every image Ryder displayed and every word she spoke as if he were a student studying for a test. One which would be timed, with the grade scale relating to more than just basic success rate. Coming out with a "90%" might mean you lost "10%" of [i]who[/i] you came in with. That would be a fail.

The student analogy persisting, Cyclops did also find this material interesting. 
Interesting, though largely disconcerting.

Behind his visor, he shifted his eyes towards Ryder at her firm statement of Andrew Becker being hers. 
That bridge could be crossed when they came to it, and that fell under the part of the plan that would be his to make alone.

Right now, he actually had something else on his mind.
[color=#0096FF]"Do you know of anything across Umbra like Cerebro? Something which could connect your mind to technology to the same extent Cerebro allows for standard telepathic connection?[/color]


[hr]
Xavier arrived at his office some minutes after Jean, finding she'd made use of his tea maker; presently setting a cup down for him on his desk.

Xavier made no move towards it however, and did not speak. In fact, he'd paused between the now closed door and the desk, looking lost in the matter that brought them here.

Jean, her own cup of tea in her hand, broke the silence: [color=#DAA06D]"I'm sorry. Ever since Umbra something's been off with me. I should've gone to the Disaster Shelter with Hank-"[/color] her voice lowered, [color=#DAA06D]"I never should've placed myself in a position where any of that could've happened."[/color]

Xavier: [color=#7393B3]". . .perhaps."[/color]

Jean regarded him anew, realizing: [color=#DAA06D]"That's not what's on your mind."[/color]

[color=#7393B3]"Perhaps it should be. Though presently I find myself unable to think of anything other than. . ."[/color] A heavy sigh escaped Xavier's lips. He stared at nothing, shaking his head subtly. 

Jean waited patiently for him to continue, thinking she knew now what -or rather who- the subject was.

Though Xavier's next words came as a question: [color=#7393B3]"How many children have I helped throughout these years?"[/color] He looked her way yet didn't appear to be focusing on her. [color=#7393B3]"Youths who found safe haven, for the first time, within these walls. Who were told nothing was wrong with them, for the first time, by me. . ."[/color] His voice grew stronger yet with a slight waver to it, as he came from the past back to the present: [color=#7393B3]"Yet, [i][b]to my own daughter[/b][/i], I've given only the impression that I desire to [i][b]fix[/b][/i] her."[/color]

Jean's answer was thoughtful: [color=#DAA06D]"Ryder's only known captivity, with zero meaningful interaction. At least not positive. We can't expect her to recognize our intentions for what they are."[/color]

[color=#7393B3]"So am I naive then, to have hoped for certain progress? Some has been made. Only not with me."[/color]

[color=#DAA06D]"You've spent your life encouraging others to see from your perspective. For a lot of us, that's what we needed. But I don't think you'll get anywhere with Ryder if you don't make your starting point hers."[/color] Jean's eyes shifted from Xavier then, as if her words had hit on some breakthrough in her own mind -some thought suddenly coming to her. Though it was gone before she'd had the chance to actually see it, like the flit of a shadow across a blind. What had it been?

Xavier didn't catch this shift. [color=#7393B3]"Ryder's perspective. . .Ryder's [b]mind[/b]. . .A vastly foreign land even to someone like myself who has traversed through many. I find myself divided between the feeling I will never have the privilege of seeing it for what it truly is, unguarded, I mean, and the feeling that I never should. . ."[/color] He closed his eyes. [color=#7393B3]"Though in either case, likewise, I find myself wanting to. More than any other mind I've had the responsibility of knowing."[/color] His eyes opened; seeing the paradox clearly now.