xp_logs | Malice Aforethought: late Tuesday night (Reply)

In which Forge realizes that no matter what choice he makes, he's forced into the same outcome. In a moment of desperation, he makes one last attempt for something to control.

"Suppression of adenocytosine capable at a three-angstrom wavelength," Forge spoke quietly into the recorder at his side, working simultaneously on a computer simulation of his design and making notes on printed reports. "Permanence would seem to be contingent on mitochondrial storage. Research further. End note."

Pushing himself away from the table, he looked at the clock. Late, of course. It had been a while since he slept, but that much was normal. The stack of data printouts before him still had to be gone through, checked for statistical anomalies, gone over twice for detail.

Throwing his hands up in the air, Forge wished - and not for the first time - for the luxury of a research partner. One that wasn't Toad. Absently, he rubbed the bruise forming on his jaw. The foul-mouthed member of the Brotherhood hadn't taken a liking to Forge's presence in what was once HIS laboratory, and took many opportunities to make that dislike known. A shove in passing, upending trays of food, and lately outright violence. If Forge hadn't known better, he'd almost have sworn he was back in high school.

A partner would help. But that was a luxury that he was not to be afforded, and one that he couldn't waste time missing, frankly. Turning his attention back to his simulations, Forge increased the data processing rate. Numbers and data scrolled past at an insane rate, detailing the mathematical process that described the inevitable chain reaction that would occur when the device activated.

No control. That was the problem. The Neutralizer would work, but it had no control. Instead of just blocking mutant powers, it would block all cellular activity. Cell death in a matter of seconds, cascading from cell to cell, organ to organ. Suppressing a small chuckle, Forge thought morbidly that Kyle would be proud. He'd finally made a 'death ray'. But that wasn't the goal, not the purpose. The reaction needed to cascade, but tightly controlled.

It was all about control, he thought. Physics controls chemistry controls biology. All that was needed was the right connection, the right function. Control was-

"Why am I doing this?" he whispered, sweeping the keyboard off the desk, hearing it clatter onto the floor. Magneto had told him repeatedly, the purpose of the device was never to be used, only to provide a deterrent threat. Then why follow through with it?

Because Forge knew there would have to be an example. A show of force, an aspect of control. Who would it be, he wondered. Would the Brotherhood ambush another student unprotected outside the mansion? Set a trap for the X-Men while out answering a distress call? Waylay the Professor at a speaking engagement?

In the end, Forge decided, it didn't matter. No matter what Magneto was leading him to believe, he knew in his heart that he didn't have a choice. Obey willingly, or be forced to. Live on your feet or die on your knees. And against a man like Erik Lensherr, Forge was less than nothing. Powerless to resist.

No control.

Pushing his hair back from his face, Forge nodded to himself. There was something he could control. One small measure of defiance in this interminable situation. Glancing around the laboratory, his gaze fell on a small box cutter resting on a workbench, blade out, dull in the fluorescent light.

One way to take control.

With no hesitation, Forge walked over and picked up the blade. Looking up at his reflection in a mirror, he took in his appearance one last time. Raising the box cutter, he began to go to work.

Control.