Charles gasps then he breaks into a coughing fit as water drips down his forehead. He feels cold, a chill runs down his spine. He soon realises that he's in a bright, white room, completely unclothed except for boxers.

Charles examines his surroundings as he attempts to sit up straight from laying inside a metallic tub, housed in a plastic casing. His muscles ache intensively, his throat dry of any fluids to aid him in speech. His wet hand grips the edge of the tub as he pulls himself up from the pool of water in which he lays.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP...

A series of alarms sound, causing the Professor a deafening fright. He quickly shakes his head then rubs his hair with his hands to quicken the drying process.

"Hey-"

He winces, clearing his throat to avoid himself from croaking anymore, then speaks again, "HEY, is someone there?!"

A moment of lengthened stillness follows, all while the beeping still carries on. Charles glances around and spots a bathrobe at the other end of the room, along with a folded pile of fresh and dry clothes, socks, shoes and a hairbrush.

He waits for a moment then pulls himself up quickly. As if triggered, the moment his foot touches the frigid floor, the alarm stops blaring.

And just like the silence in the room, his mind, with thoughts and questions racing around, comes to a halt.

He just moved his legs.

He feels sick to his stomach. Functioning legs isn't something that he has been accustomed to for a while now... but here he is, moving his lower body as if he had never got shot at the Cuban beach.

Charles smiles widely, with disbelief, as tears form in his eyes. He wiggles his foot a little as he sits at the edge of the tub, supporting his weight by his hands resting on each side. It was a sensation he had not felt for a long time, something he has almost forgotten the feeling of.

Maybe these people are ones to work with, He thinks then all seriousness takes over.

No.

They have taken everything from the Professor, meddled in his affairs and harmed those who are close to him without even taking the slightest consent.

His cheer and optimism slowly diminish as the thought of cruelty and injustice swarms back into his mind.

Charles looks around cautiously then tip-toes, finding it a mammoth of a task to simply go a few feet ahead. After gaining a solid balance, he moves towards the bathrobe, wearing it and tying it around his waist.

He takes a deep breath, trying to remember what he was doing before he awoke within this tub of water.

For the few days, he has been a hostage in this building, he recalls taking a number of tests; answering trivial questions, solving puzzles, relaying information about his biological make-up as well as his own life... against his own will. He was forced to-

Charles furrows his eyebrows at the thought. He wasn't entirely 'forced', he more of had no other choice to escape this secretive laboratory.

Yes, he concluded that it was clearly a laboratory in full function. A research centre concocting and looking into deadly areas of world concerns, and it's not only what Mr B. had said that-

Charles raises his head higher, his attention falling on the object that he can't believe didn't strike his attention as soon as he woke up: The large glass pane that was, no doubt, a two-way mirror.

He starts walking towards it with heavy steps then stopped in the middle of the room after noticing the CCTV cameras at every corner of the room, with an extra one above the glass pane. Through completing the uncountable list of tests for these people, Charles has realised that there are A LOT of cameras bolted to the walls, watching him for every single moment of a day, and monitoring his every behaviour.

He despises it... But in a twisted way, these cameras channel the way his own powers work-

"Professor Charles Xavier, 161815624..." A mechanical voice erupts from the speakers, Charles looks around in surprise. He points to the glass pane with anger on his face.

"Get me out of here NOW!" He demands then hastens towards the glass, attempting to see what is on the other side, if it is even possible. He raises his fist then rests it on the glass. "I know you're watching me, I need answers PLEASE!" He continues to communicate with no definite responses.

"TCH phase one, completed successfully," The mechanical voice announces and Charles clenches his jaw.

"What is 'TCH', WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" He bangs his fists on the glass continuously, out of frustration, "I've been doing your bloody tests for four days and you haven't told me anything!"

"Temporary Cryonic Hibernation," A voice states, this time being a voice of a living human being than a machine. The voice came from a man, Charles finds it very familiar...

Charles softens at the sound, his fists slowly slip down the glass pane till they land to his sides. He stares at his reflection blankly, after realising that his current situation makes sense. He was put to sleep for a lengthened tie through the process of cryonics, where a person can be preserved by putting them in extremely low temperatures. It can actually expand the years a person is alive for.

The tub of ice cold water, a cryonic machine, and the confusion with his perspective of time... It makes him feel like a piece of meat, in a freezer. And he pinpoints the exact moment when they must have placed him in the machine; after having a decent meal with a peculiar day filled with a lack of examinations.

"How long..." Charles mumbles, feeling a sense of disconnect with himself and his surroundings.

"A month and a half," The man, who Charles has concluded to be the boss around this place, Ennis, further states, "We are doing it in short duration than months on end because we want to collate data at specific periods in time. This is only the start."

Charles shuts his eyes with defeat and steps back slowly, away from the glass. He has no clue what these people could have done to him during that time. Before he knows it, he could be dead eventually from them injecting something into his body sometime during the month and a half. All that time was put to waste, time he could have used to-

"Where's Lillian," The Professor says assertively rather than questioning.

"She's cared for Professor, she is safe-"

"I don't believe you," Charles bangs his fist on the glass then glares at the centre, "I know you're doing the same thing to her Ennis, or worse. I WANT TO SEE HER, take me to her!"

"You know we can't do that, no matter how much you beg and plead," Ennis responds with a grin then presses a button on the panel, sounding an alarm.

"TAKE ME TO HER ENNIS!" Charles yells at the top of his lungs, "You have no idea what I am capable of!"

"TCH phase 2, commencing..." The mechanical voice returns momentarily and Charles receives the hint that he is running short on time.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THIS TO US ENNIS! I will make sure you never-"

THUMP!

Charles suddenly collapses onto the floor. A button triggered a process in the microchip installed into his brain to cause him to faint on command. Charles, with his eyes open, stares coldly at the floor, drowning deep within the realms of his own mind, with the thought of Lillian in danger never leaving his side.