「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(306) Greater Good

"For psychics, this presents a particular problem. The very nature of our gift is invasive," I emphasized seriously.

"When is it acceptable to use our power and when do we cross that invisible line that turns us into tyrants over our fellow men?" I challenged in a provocative tone, hoping to evoke some response and gladly, I was successful.

"But Einstein said that ethics are an exclusive human concern without any superhuman authority behind it," Kitty hotly debated as an acute twinge pulsated simultaneously pulsated through my arm.

"Einstein wasn't a mutant," I refuted with a kind smile, counting on it to disguise my sudden panic, as I quickly squeezed in a telepathic glimpse of Lynn, thankfully discovering her safe and sound in Storm's company.

"So far as we know," I elaborated jokingly and Kitty's face brightened with a bashful grin as the chuckles of her peers erupted into the fickle spring background now spruced with a striking shade of azure.

"This case study was donated to us by an ally at the CIA," I introduced, swiveling my chair aside, and guided their gaze to the screen mounted to the wall behind me as their jovial commotion ceased.

"Jones," I softly beckoned.

Courteously, the boy seated directly in front of the projector nodded and with a simple blink of his eyes housed behind thick glass framed in black wires, the large digital display switched to life. Immediately, Theresa beamed from ear to ear, practically watching her mother in sheer exhilaration, as she constantly nudged her roommate.

"That's my mom," Theresa babbled excitedly, but in a hushed tone, and struggled to curb her joy, bouncing elatedly in her seat, as the video clip began to roll.

"The man you see here was born with no higher-level brain functions. His organs and nervous system work, but he has no consciousness to speak of," Moira acquainted composedly and the brief film halted at the image of her, attired in a formal suit with the tag that published her position as the current Chief Supervisor dangling from her chest pocket, standing before several doctors attending to a comatose male complicatedly hooked up to multiple sets of machinery.

"What if we were to transfer the consciousness of one person—say a father of four with terminal cancer—into the body of this man?" I proposed in a theoretical fashion and steadily, more faces were submerged into deep thought as they actively pondered over the hypothetical scenario.

"How are we to decide what falls within the range of ethical behavior and what..." I grilled fervently but my zealous voice was eventually hindered by the enchanting ring of hers.

Ever since I could remember, Lynn had always triumphed as the most unyielding form of my distraction and her ability to derange or occupy my mind only surged drastically with our intricate connection. Generally, the strength of my telepathy was sufficient to build a robust barrier between her and I, preserving privacy somewhat, but this very blockade was prone to crumble—awarding access to pure speech, especially when she was just in the vicinity.

"Professor?" Jones mumbled confusedly and I instinctively faced towards him, perhaps radiating with the same disoriented expression, as I snapped out of Lynn graciously offering up tea.

"We'll continue this tomorrow. Class dismissed," I declared with a warm smile.

Evidently fazed, all of them sluggishly gathered up their belongings but I patiently waited until they had fully disbanded before briskly navigating the way back to my study situated precisely one storey above. Although separated only by a single surface, the route up was more complex, involving a lift ride and weaving through a series of corridors on each floor before I arrived at my desired destination.

In my office, Raven had reclined leisurely into the couch as her blonde self sloppily decked in baggy pajamas, ungracefully slurping on her drink. Perched alongside her was Hank, properly mannered, carefully accepting his steamy beverage floating over from Lynn, and Storm merely stood around as I rushed into the area.

"Sorry, I'm late," I hastily claimed and Lynn faced around, jaded yet glowing with immense glee.

"Charles," Lynn greeted with a sweet smile, pouring her longing eyes into mine, but was certainly hesitant to stretch her throbbing arm out for the hug she craved dearly, in fear of further aggravating our physical torture as I expeditiously approached her.

"Hey," I whispered, wrapping my arm around her and gently pecked her temple as I delicately caressed her wrist.

How are you holding up? I probed, yearning for my eyes to understate my true worries, as I gazed at her nervously.

I'll manage, Lynn reassured with a positive smile, albeit discreetly clasping my hand around her braced one and adamantly refused to release her grip around them.

"What's going on?" Lynn prodded anxiously, her hazel eyes unmistakably perturbed.

"Hank called me this morning when you were still asleep. Said we needed to speak urgently," I answered honestly, diverting my curious gaze to him.

"Yes. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Hank affirmed appreciatively as we politely exchanged a handshake.

"Hank, you're always welcome here," I reminded sincerely.

"You're part of this place," Lynn echoed in a cheerful tone but Hank seemed strictly depressed.

"I have news," Hank alerted grimly.