Chapter 7

Charles sat in the chair, his wrists and ankles strapped down tightly. His muscles tensed against the cold steel bindings, though he remained outwardly calm.

The machine resting on his head hummed faintly, wires snaking from the electrodes and running to the surrounding apparatuses, where data was streaming across multiple screens.

Mr. Sinister stood a few feet away, eyes gleaming with fascination as he studied the readings. 

His attention was entirely focused on the monitors, displaying an intricate web of Charles' neural activity, brainwave fluctuations, and genetic data.

"Fascinating... truly fascinating," Sinister murmured to himself, fingers steepled under his chin. His eyes darted between the various genetic markers displayed on the screens, his mind working at a feverish pace. "His genes... they're far from compatible with mine."

Sinister's voice carried a note of frustration, though his curiosity was far stronger than his annoyance. He had experimented on countless mutants, blending DNA, manipulating their genetic code to create what he believed were superior life forms. Yet here, with Charles, something different was happening.

"But how..." Sinister's voice dropped to a whisper, more to himself than anyone else. He leaned closer to one of the screens, narrowing his eyes as the data scrolled by in real time. "How is it that his genetic structure is overpowering mine?"

He tapped a few buttons on the console, zooming in on the sequences of Charles' DNA. The more he analyzed, the more perplexed he became. Charles' genetic makeup should have been vulnerable—modifiable like any other.

And yet, his DNA was resisting Sinister's influence, almost as if it had a will of its own. Sinister could see the remnants of his own genetic tampering being pushed back, rejected by Charles' body like a failed organ transplant.

"His mind, his will... it's not just his telepathy," Sinister muttered, pacing now, his thoughts spilling into the air as he wrestled with the enigma before him. "It's something deeper. His genetics are responding to his psychic power—evolving in ways I didn't predict. His genes are... adapting."

Sinister's lips curled into a sinister smile, his eyes gleaming with malicious excitement. "He's evolving faster than I thought possible. The mind and body are working together in a perfect symbiosis, pushing out any foreign elements." He laughed softly, more intrigued than ever. "No wonder he's special. His entire genetic code is defending itself, bolstered by his psychic strength. It's as if his very existence is rejecting anything that isn't him."

He paused, glancing at Charles—still strapped in the chair, his eyes closed, locked in unconsciousness, likely unaware of the full extent of the experiment yet.

"But this... this is not an obstacle," Sinister said, his voice shifting to a low, menacing tone. "No, this is an opportunity."

He turned back to the machines, his mind already spinning with new ideas. "If I can't force my genetic code into him, I'll enhance what's already there. I don't need to overwrite him—I need to push him beyond his limits."

Sinister's fingers danced over the controls, recalibrating the machine, adjusting the levels of stimulation. "Charles Xavier... I'm going to make you more than just a telepath. You'll become the ultimate psionic weapon. Your mind will not just read thoughts—it will command them. Your will, your very presence, will crush the minds of anyone who opposes you."

He moved closer to Charles, standing beside the unconscious mutant, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You see, Charles... when I'm done with you, you won't just be a weapon for my use. You'll be the perfect vessel for my consciousness. I'll become one with your mind, your powers—using you to transcend my limitations. And you won't even know it until it's too late."

Sinister stepped back, his eyes flickering with malicious delight as he watched the machine hum louder, intensifying its output. "It's brilliant. You'll grow stronger, not for yourself, but for me. And when the time is right... I'll take it all."

The machine began to glow, a faint blue light pulsing across the room. Sinister's excitement was palpable, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He could almost taste the power that was about to unfold.

"But it's not time yet," Mr. Sinister muttered, his mind already calculating for what lay ahead.

...

Charles sat on the back porch of his home, cradling his head in his hands. He had just returned from another one of Sinister's experiments. His mind was still buzzing, his thoughts swirling in frustration.

'He's really trying to push me past my limits... And he's going to be disappointed once this experiment actually starts,' Charles thought bitterly. 'I wonder what my experiment tag is this time.'

Despite the endless tests, Charles knew his mind had evolved in ways traditional training never could. His telepathic abilities had grown stronger—his telepathy range now extending to 300 meters.

He could not only read thoughts but also absorb knowledge, experiences, and skills directly from others' minds. More disturbingly, he could erase these memories, forcing a person to start over as if they'd never learned anything at all.

And his power kept growing—both from his own training and from the relentless experiments Sinister subjected him to.

"What am I doing here? I should be studying more," Charles muttered, shaking off the lingering haze. He retreated to his room, grabbing one of the many books scattered across his desk.

As he started reading, he instinctively activated his telepathy, letting the familiar hum of thoughts surround him. Minutes later, a new mind slipped into his mental reach.

'If I could just find something to eat…'

Charles paused, frowning. The thought was clear and distinct—a man's voice. But when he opened his door, there was no one in sight.

Confused, he glanced out the window. That's when he saw it—a crow perched on a branch just outside.

"Wait… am I reading its mind?" Charles whispered in amazement. "I can read animals' thoughts now?"

A grin crept across his face. "This could be useful. Maybe I'll make some new friends..."

Charles decided to put his plan into action and headed to the kitchen, grabbing some rice grains to offer the crow. As he walked back to the window, he reached out telepathically.

'(Hey, bird. If you want food, I've got some for you)' Charles said, speaking directly to the crow's mind.

The crow, startled, looked around in confusion before its eyes locked onto Charles, noticing the food in his hand.

'(How are you talking to me?)' the bird asked, its curiosity evident.

'(I've got powers. Now, do you want the food or not?)' Charles replied.

'(I do... but you must want something in return. What do you want? If it's within my power, I'll do it)' the crow responded shrewdly.

'(Be my eyes. And call some of your friends too)' Charles requested.

'(That's it?)' the crow asked.

'(Yeah, that's it)' Charles confirmed.

'(Deal)' the crow said, letting out a loud "Caw, Caw!"

The crow swooped down, landing on Charles' forearm, and began pecking at the rice grains in his hand.

'(By the way, I'm going to establish a mental link so I can see what you see)' Charles informed the bird.

'(Sure thing, my guy)' the crow responded between bites.

'(I'm Charles, by the way)' Charles introduced himself.

'(Nice to meet you, Charles. I call myself Nightwing,)' the crow said proudly.

Charles smiled, amused by the name. He couldn't help but think of the Nightwing from the DC Universe.

'(Nice name, Nightwing,)' Charles said with a grin.

Nightwing puffed up slightly, clearly embarrassed, and continued eating.