Cecily stood near the window, absently letting a snake coil around her hands as she listened to the conversation.

"My opinion? Magneto's behind this," Scott said, his voice filled with certainty.

"No, I don't think so, Scott," Jean countered calmly.

Charles leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. "While Erik is certainly capable of orchestrating something like this from prison, it would be counterproductive to his goal of mutant prosperity. This kind of chaos would only undermine his vision of mutant superiority."

Cecily felt a familiar pang of frustration. She wished she could be more helpful, but her glimpses of the future were always frustratingly unclear, never sharp enough to guide them.

"Of course, the government's likely response will be to reintroduce the Registration Act," Storm said, her voice heavy with concern.

"Or worse," Charles added gravely, "the president might declare a state of emergency and order the arrest of every mutant in the country." The weight of his words sent a chill down Cecily's spine, her hands tightening around the snake as it slid over her fingers.

"Do you think the assassin was working alone?" Jean asked, concern etched in her voice.

"We'll only know if we can find him before the authorities do," Charles replied. "I've been trying to track him with Cerebro, but his movements are strangely erratic. Once I have more precise coordinates, Storm and Jean, I'll need you to take the jet and try to intercept him."

Cecily shifted uncomfortably. She wished she could do more than stand on the sidelines, watching things unfold.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Cecily said with a bright smile as she walked down the stairs. Logan glanced up, a small grin forming as he noticed her new hair color—no longer blonde, but a rich brunette.

"Hi, Cecily," he greeted.

"Uh, I should get the jet ready," Storm said, making a quick exit, sensing the moment.

Cecily watched the kids exchange their goodbyes, then stepped right in front of Logan. "Storm and Jean are heading to Boston. I was going to help them get everything sorted."

Logan studied her for a second, reaching out to touch a strand of her brunette hair. "I preferred the blonde," he remarked with a smirk.

Cecily tilted her head, unfazed. "And I prefer someone who sticks around. Guess we're even."

"This shouldn't take too long," she added, glancing toward the door. "You'll be here when I get back, unless you're planning on disappearing again."

"You're not going with them?" he asked, surprised.

"I didn't think you'd been gone long enough to forget—I don't do missions anymore," she said with a raised eyebrow.

Logan grinned. "Well, I can think of a few reasons to stick around."

Before she could respond, Scott came through the doorway, his presence shifting the air. "Find what you were looking for, Logan?" he asked coolly.

"More or less," Logan replied, though his eyes remained on Cecily.

Cecily's smile widened. "I'll see you later," she told Logan, then turned to Scott.

Stopping in front of him, she added with a playful but serious tone, "Be nice."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Cecily walked into Cerebro with Logan.

"Logan," the professor greeted with a hint of amusement, "my tolerance for smoking in the mansion notwithstanding, if you continue to smoke in here, you'll spend the rest of your days under the impression that you're a six-year-old girl."

Cecily chuckled at the remark.

"You'd do that?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd have Cecily braid your hair," Charles replied, and Cecily's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Oh, *please* do that, Professor!" she said eagerly.

Logan glanced at her before extinguishing his cigar on his hand. Cecily watched, intrigued, her gaze fixed on his hand.

"You want me to leave?" Logan's voice snapped Cecily from her focus.

"No, just don't move," Charles instructed.

"These lights represent every living person on the planet," the professor explained.

Cecily, already bored, began biting her nails, her thoughts drifting elsewhere. Logan noticed her muttering something he couldn't fully catch. The only phrase he made out was, "He's yet to see victory."

She only stopped fidgeting when Cerebro finally powered down, her attention snapping back to the room around her.

"I need you to read my mind again," Logan said, turning to the professor. Cecily glanced at him, her brow furrowing; he hadn't found what he was searching for.

"Logan, I'm afraid the results will be the same as before," the professor replied. "We had a deal."

"The mind isn't a box that can simply be unlocked. It's more like a beehive with countless compartments," Charles explained.

"Spare me the lecture," Logan retorted, his frustration evident.

"I'm certain your amnesia, your adamantium skeleton, and the claws are all connected. But sometimes, the mind needs to discover things on its own. I promise we'll revisit this discussion when I return," the professor assured him.

"Oh, and if you would be so kind as to help Cecily watch over the children tonight, Scott and I will be visiting an old friend." With that, the professor left, and Cecily watched him go.

"They will not return," she whispered to herself, her fingers drifting back to her nervous habit of picking at her skin.