At first they rather unnerved him. But as he tried desperately to rid himself of the images and the questions they brought up he suddenly came upon the realization that, strange as these images were, they were familiar in their own way. They belonged to him. He did not know the connection but there was one. He only had to show patience and all would reveal itself.

He was in South America - wandering north. He avoided most places. His uncontrollable powers had gotten him into a few scrapes. Thankfully he had been able to bluff his way out of them. He seemed to have some control over magnetism. He didn't wish to flex them - he was unsure of his ability to really use the powers. They seemed to pop up during times of stress. One town he had escaped from after his powers went haywire he heard a name screamed over and over. 'Magneto' - the name bothered him because he felt sure he should know it. It was something vaguely familiar. But just as he reached out to claim it, it slipped between his fingers and he was again lost in a fog as to the importance of the name.

He plodded onward. In America, he was sure he would be able to find help. It had a strange draw on him. As if he had belonged there before. Once.

He put the broken images in the back of his mind. Surely, if he pondered over them too long he would fall into dispair over his inability to remember and then his powers would flare uncontrollably again.

He walked along the vacant dirt road. The Andes thrust upward to his left, like great claws to the sky. He wondered if he could use his powers to help him travel. It couldn't hurt.

He stopped for a moment, and drank from the waterskin he had with him. Then he concentrated. Perhaps he could levitate and float faster than he walked. He let the power flow through him, it strengthened him it felt more familiar to him than the thought of family or home. A strange and terrible thought hit him. Is my power all that I have? The thought unnerved him..he had hoped that he had someone. Beads of sweat formed on his face. The dispair of such loneliness - such alienation - consumed him. He felt the magnetic powers he wielded flare.

The energy ripped through him like a thousand bullets. It felt as if every nerve ending had been burned raw. He screamed inside of himself and tried to push the pain away.

Mineral rocks that dotted the landscape twitched, slid then flew away as he clawed the air with his hands trying to rid himself of the force that had run rampant within him.

He was putting off some serious power. Bluish bolts of magnetic energy were flying about. They were coming out of his hands and up from the ground at his feet. They were throwing around certain rocks and pieces of metal that were scattered about the area.

He was suddenly, painfully, aware of the movements of the earth. He could feel the magnetic field withing the ground and in the atmosphere bending, swaying, pulling at him and making room for him.

“Control!!” he screamed, and shot 100 feet straight up into the air.

The pain was immense. The magnetic powers within and without were controlling him rather than the other way around. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to one moment be standing on the ground and, the next moment be hanging in mid-air, feet towards the sky, eyes staring 100 feet to the ground below. And if that hadn’t been bad enough, he began to spin. Slowly at first but gradually picking up speed until the g-forces he was generating were as harmful as the forces ruthlessly ripping through him.

His only instinct at this time was to survive himself. He had turned into what looked like some bizarre human compass. Dust particles of iron content tore through the air at him, some doing injury due to the high speeds he was turning, others resting on him to form a strange natural armor.

He grit his teeth and reached with his arms for something he couldn’t see and didn’t understand.

But it was enough, he stopped spinning. His relief was shortlived, however, for he then seemed to propel himself and started careening through the air and incredible speeds. The wind tore at him, the scenery blurred.

Flashes of scenery went through his mind like a slideshow set on highest speed. Macchu Picu, the Panama Canal, Mexico City, Dallas, St. Louis, Pittsburgh, New York City, Upstate New York, Westchester county. He felt himself falling.

This is it!! He screamed in his mind. He saw a mansion, surrounded by forest and lakes. He knew this place. He plunged to the ground, dropping like a stone, exhausted mentally and physically. He heard the sound of a motorcycle and a feral roar. He opened his eyes and his bleary sight revealed a great marble sign, steps leading to a great door.

A shadow fell over him. A handsome, young man with flashing red and black eyes stood over him. His young face turned from surprise to shock to rage. He reached down and grabbed Eric by the collar. Eric felt his consciousness slipping away as the young man cried out: "YOU!?!"

His vision faded and in muffled tones he heard a great commotion around him. "Logan!! Xavier!! Come QUICK!!"

Oblivion was welcomed. There were no images just infinite blackness. It enveloped him like a blanket and for once he felt no fear, no dispair, he felt at peace and he wanted to remain there forever. The Fates had a different plan. At first it was merely a presence of a noise that reached him in his welcomed fog. Then he heard it so very faintly 'beep.....beep.....beep.....' he tried to shove it away. "Leave me be," he whispered to it. "Let me rest."

The noise grew more persistent. "Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep..."

He scowled, the blackness was no longer so black, it was graying as if he were enveloped now in dawn.

"BEEP...BEEP...BEEP..."

It was a machine, he knew that now. A monitor, he remembered those. The graying dawn grew lighter. He fully expected to see the sun rise...instead, he merely opened his eyes.

His limbs felt so heavy, as did his eyelids. He was in bed, hooked up to the rude and intrusive beeping machine. It looked like a heart monitor. A number of wires and tubes were connected to him, he discovered. With some effort, he managed to look around. A man was near him. A bald man in a strange floating chair.

Eric was shocked, he simply stared at the man, who looked back at him calmly. "Hello Eric. How are you feeling?" He said in a soft yet firm tone.

Eric just looked for a moment, then wet his lips. "You know me? I know you but I can't remember how. Who are you?"

The man's contemplative face seemed to fall into a deeper look. There was concern etched all over his face and it worried Eric somewhat. Why was he the subject of such concern? He repeated his question. "Who are you? How do I know you?"

The man seemed to stir himself out of his thoughts. "My name is Charles Xavier. We have known each other for many years Eric. Through many trials. May I ask how you found your way here?"

"I don't know." Eric thought, or tried to. His mind didn't want to cooperate. "I-I was in South America, and then I tried to make my journey easier and it happened." He looked hesitant, should he divulge his powers to this man? Everyone else who found out had ostracized him. Still, this Charles Xavier knew him. Maybe he knew already. He decided to tell. "I have a power. I seem to be able to control magnetism."

He straightened his head and looked at the ceiling. "I have difficulty controlling it. It went haywire and I seemed to find my way here. I know this place, it's one of the few things I do know. I suppose I came unconsciously."

Xavier was silent for a long time, and Eric was too tired to care one way or the other. Finally, the other man spoke. "You are safe here and you are welcome to stay as long as you like. I will be happy to help you. For now, I'll let you rest and have some food sent up." Eric heard a whirr as the chair turned and Xavier left the room, as he returned to oblivion.

End of Part 1

Dande