Chapter 1

He blended in easily. Too easily. There was nothing about him, which stood out of place as he sat at his chess table playing a single man game. Erik Lensherr stared down at the chess pieces that were positioned in front of him, waiting for him to make the next move. He hesitated in his actions, spending a moment to sit and listen to the activity around him in the park. He could hear children's laughter, the sounds of a basketball being dribbled across the nearby court. The men on the table behind him were having a feud over an illegal move. Erik raised his head slowly to stare across the rolling lawns of the park, the evening glorious and warm. But he was sat huddled in a thick coat, the collar turned up and a scruffy flat cap pulled low over his head. He didn't want to be recognised. Not that that was likely, for now he looked like a broken old man. But a broken old man he was. He was a survivor of many things, but he had lost many things. Now it was highly unlikely he could be identified as the mutant tyrant Magneto.

No, now he was a human. He was one of them. The very thought filled him with a sickening dread as he had become what he hated so passionately. He hated his new way of life, getting up every day to the sounds of the radio, strolling through the park to buy a morning newspaper, coming back home to settle with a hot cup of coffee and the daytime television to wile away the hours. He hated it. He hated how simple his life had become. He hated every damning second of it. Erik clenched his fist tightly as he released a low and steady breath out of his nose. He extended his hand across the chess table to locate the black king. It was metal, but he couldn't sense it like he used to. Perhaps it was a foolish wish, a desperation that he would never grow out of as he hovered his hand across the king. He willed for it to move, focusing every thought and every bit of energy he had into making that chess piece move to it's next square. Ever so slightly, the piece swayed before falling still. Erik stared at it, the piece glinting serenely in the evening sunlight. Had that been a trick of the eye?

Erik leant in towards the piece, picking it up in his rough calloused fingers as he caressed the cool metal with need. It would never feel the same again. He quietly closed his hand around the chess piece, glancing around the area before he stood to his feet. Pulling his cap lower over his forehead, he strode away from his chess table, brushing by people without a word. He continued to hold the cold chess piece tightly in his hand, his yearning still burning through him. He speeded up, meeting the busy road where he stopped at the red 'stop' sign on the pedestrian crossing. He glanced either side of him, watching the business commuters with disdain as they stared ahead without any acknowledgement for who he was. The green man flashed on, and he set off across the road with the public. He pushed himself faster, getting out of the crowd that was surrounding him like a deadly smog.

His breaths were becoming panicky, his hands tightened over the black king as he gasped, eyes staring around him as people walked towards him fast, swinging briefcases, talking on mobile phones. He turned, staring at the backs of the passer-bys as he panted. He hated it.

He couldn't stand it.

"Ugh!" He had forcefully bumped into someone, staggering backwards and hitting the floor heavily. He blinked slowly, then peering up at the man stood before him.

"Watch it," came the crude voice. The suited man threw him a filthy look before he straightened his pristine suit and strode off.

Erik gritted his teeth angrily. How dare he. How dare anyone speak to him like he was a lesser being. His hand tightened over the chess piece. "Sir, are you alright?" a woman crouched down besides him, hurriedly pushing blonde hair from her face as she watched Erik with concern. "Let me help you up." She eased her arms around Erik and pulled him to his feet. "Some people have no respect for the elderly," she said in distaste, glancing over her shoulder at the man who had left Erik grounded.

As she looked back round, Erik was hurrying off ahead, pushing through the crowds angrily. Elderly. How could he be seen as a weak old man? He wasn't. He would never be! He reached his apartment building, hurrying up the staircase as he fumbled for his keys from his coat pocket. He hated it. He wasn't human. His hands shook on the metal keys, which jangled tauntingly. He shoved the key into the keyhole, his trembling fingers wrenching the door open as he stumbled inside his apartment. He slammed the door shut, locking the catch as he panted heavily. He leant back against the door, his eyes closing.

"Hello Erik," came a soft voice. Erik lifted his head his eyes flying open to stare at the figure stood at the window. The words were smooth and tantalising, playing a distinct stress on his real name.

The black-haired woman turned to face him, dark eyes flickering with hints of hatred. Mystique. Her pale form was tightly clothed in a business suit, which fitted to her voluptuous frame. Ebony strands hung mesmerisingly over her eyes, which remained striking even without the blazing amber they had once been. It appeared the human life was treating her much better than Erik, who had nowhere to go since his downfall. The best he could afford was a rundown apartment in San Francisco; he struggled to put food on the table, for his only money came from the bets he played at chess tables where he would win mediocre amounts.

"Raven," he replied, using her own name in return. She flashed him a small smile with those full dark lips, but it wasn't welcoming. It was jeering. Her eyes sparkled with laughter. But even so.. he could see bitter anger in their depths. "How did you get in?"

"Losing my powers didn't mean I lost all my skills," she told him quietly, turning her back on him and facing the large window. She stared out at the distant Golden Gate Bridge that was in early construction stages as it was rebuilt.

Erik watched her, slowly pushing himself off the door. "Why are you here?"

"My, my. Aren't we full of questions?" She didn't look round at him, but Erik could hear the wicked satisfaction in her voice. He was the weaker one now. His face flinched as he struggled to hold down his anger at that realisation.

Erik dropped his keys on the kitchen worktop, then striding towards her. "Get out, Raven. There's nothing here for you."

Raven turned her head slowly to regard the man besides her. Her eyes flashed gently with a flicker of fiery anger. "I demand answers," she told him coolly.

"You demand nothing of me," Erik retorted sharply.

But Raven pressed on regardless. "How does it feel, Erik? How does it feel to be one of them?" Her eyes glared at him, full of challenge.

"You know yourself."

She leant in slowly, her young face full of vindictive pleasure as she whispered out her words, acid tongue caressing every syllable. "You hate it."

"Is that all you've come here for?" he snapped harshly, his grey eyes staring at her. "To come and ridicule what I have become?"

"You left me in that prison convoy at a time when I need you most, Erik," she told him abruptly. There was no laughter left in her face or voice as she spoke now. "I sacrificed my gift for you, then you walk away and leave me with nothing!"

Erik narrowed his eyes as he watched her. "It doesn't look like the human life is treating you all that badly."

"No. I have skills Erik, skills that businesses pay highly for. The computing industry is a well-paid business, but I don't prefer it Erik. I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?" he had shouted this question at her, his blazing eyes searching her smooth face. "I have nothing, Raven! Nothing! I've lost everything!"

For a moment, he thought he saw tears forming in her dark eyes, but he sure it wasn't the case. "I want to know the truth, Erik. Is that all I have ever been to you? A pawn in your on-going game of chess?"

"Raven," he said softly. "You became what I was fighting against. I couldn't have you stand alongside me anymore. It was the right thing to do."

"For you!" she cried, her hands now gripping the front of his scruffy tartan jacket. "Not for me!"

He slowly lifted a hand to prise her tight grip off his clothing. "There is nothing more for me to say," he whispered. "You got your revenge when you told the Government my plans."

"You fool!" she exclaimed as she stared at him with shining eyes. "I was on your side even then! Why do you think Jamie Maddox was missing at Alcatraz! He came to find me, Erik. Together we decided to plant a decoy for the soldiers to give you the time you needed at Alcatraz."

Erik's eyes widened slowly as he gazed at her. "What?" he said softly.

"You idiot," muttered Raven weakly as she released him, turning to the window. "I've always been on your side, Erik. I've always been there for you. You haven't lost everything. You've still got me," she slowly looked across to him.

"My dear," he said softly as he place a hand on her arm. What was he feeling? Was it hope? Guilt? He squeezed her arm gently before he turned his head to stare out across San Francisco Bay. Somehow, he didn't feel quite so angry anymore, quite so hopeless. "Do you have somewhere to stay for the night?" Raven shook her head mutely, eventually turning her eyes back upon Erik. "You may stay here," he said softly. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Perhaps I should tell you now," she began quietly, "before it's too late." She twisted herself to face him, her dark eyes regarding him intently as she spoke. "There's another reason why I'm here," she said. "A mutant has been tracking me for a few days now. I've no idea who they are, or what they want."

Erik frowned as he watched her. "Where did you last see them?"

"New York."

"Then, it appears we have the head start, my dear."

"We?" asked Raven, a flicker of a smile crossing her devilish lips.

Erik nodded his head slowly, his eyes showing signs of life for the first time in weeks. "It has always been 'we'."

I hope you like the first chapter! More is to come, most certainly for I have a detailed plot planned for this story!