「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(275) The Next Move

Charles' POV

Lynn, it's too tough on you. Get Jean to do it, please, I pleaded in a worried tone.

Then it'll be too tough on you, Lynn swiftly retorted.

The outcome is going to be the same, Charles. Just let me do it, alright? I promise you, I'll be fine, Lynn reassured and her stubborn determination inadvertently wavered mine.

Her mind was initially somber, lingering with a tinge of upset, but as I agreed, her troubles were instantly doused by waves of excitement that glazed her frame with sheer enthusiasm. It was not so much of a chipper event, and she was not unsuitably gleeful, just sufficiently eradicating her face from gloom so as not to unsettle the children too.

Raven kindly offered to push but Lynn singlehandedly wheeled out, maintaining her straight course with the mild aid of telekinesis. The pool of adults trailed along her composed and pleasant frame as they all rejoined the chattery kids whose mirthful conversations quietened upon the scene drastically changed.

Their fascinating cartoon had been snapped away by an urgent news bulletin. In the corner of the display, a conspicuous timer counted down to the last minute before the President's announcement as the anchor lady narrated a brief summary of the attack that occurred in the chamber we were about to enter.

Courteously beckoning for Jones, Lynn carefully took the boy's hand and sought his consent to broadcast the images I would be projecting into her mind. He agreed unhesitatingly and listened attentively to the meticulous instructions he was provided, every unwitting blink through those thin wired glasses causing a fleeting flicker on television.

"Are you ready?" Lynn investigated with her signature benevolent smile and Jones heaved a deep breath, nodding.

Both of them shut their eyes, Lynn organizing her thoughts as I filled up her mind. Ordering them neatly, she channeled the appropriate ones to Jones and he concentrated to transmit them onto the large screen. Spontaneously, the videography of the President's profile as he began to address the nation transformed into the backstage setting with camera gear, secret servicemen, secretaries and a congregation of authorized press strewn in the area unseen from the lens.

The students gasped, their whispers evolving louder with speculations. Lynn, however, was too preoccupied, locked in full focus with me, to spare any energy to appease them but thankfully, Jean possessed the authority to bring them to a hush, preventing any distractions to the two, generously straining.

"My fellow Americans, in this time of adversity, we are being offered a moment. A moment to recognize a growing threat in our own population and take a unique role in the shape of human events..." McKenna recited from his script, tapering off only when he realized the strange pin-drop silence of the room he sat in.

"Did we just lose the feed? Are we still live?" McKenna challenged in a baffled tone, observing as his teleprompter died while everything else in his vicinity froze.

We were stationed at a short distance from the actual building, where Kurt had transported us onto the vast lawns once laid waste under an uprooted stadium. Gathering solemnly on the luscious greenery obviously well-restored, our party was shielded under a deceptive shelter creating the illusion that the plain terrace remained unembellished apart from the healthy hectare of grass.

While I secretly suspended all other activity in the Oval Office, including the program that was disseminating to all networks as a fuzzy page simulating a disconnected communication, Storm effectively wielded her powers in the region of our final destination.