Disclaimer: Sorta Marvel's. Kinda. A bit. Maaaybe. Notes: Not a sequel, but another little oddity in the same universe as "Things Heard". Given that in an infinite universe, all things are possible, the possibility must therefore exist that there may one day be King Magneto stories that actually contain recognisable characters. Conceivably even - wait for it - Magneto. But don't hold your breath. I have given up predicting the BitchMuse, and I think we all know by now that the day Poi writes something with a plot, Apocalypse will come face to face with someone pissed that he ripped off the name. Feedback: you know you wanna. KING MAGNETO: THOUGHT POLICE I am on duty, of-course, when I go into the bar. In truth I am _always_ on duty, but even on my days off I would not go to a place like this of my own accord. The noise, the humans - hardly an atmosphere I could relax in. It is called Harry's, according to the small, and almost indecipherable sign outside. I take notice of it, because I take notice of everything, - and because the name is somewhat familiar. This niggles at me momentarily, until I recall that The King's Eyes, back in Salem Centre, was once called something similar. I order a beer, taking the brand name from the mind of a nearby patron. I cast nonentityhood over myself, and sit near a wall I can see the television from. I am here to work. Humans think we are always reading their minds - telepaths on every street corner - but we are not nearly so numerous as that. Nor are we so masochistic; a human with anything interesting on his mind is far rarer than a mutant with the ability to read it. But the myth is helpful. Fear is a weapon, and those afraid to be caught thinking treason -- will likely think less treason. Nor is the myth entirely unfounded; it would not be nearly so frightening to them if it were not based in fact. If they did not have friends of friends who were picked up off the street, or from their work, or home, for thinking rebellion too loudly... It happens. It may happen here, today. That is my job. Places like this are fertile ground for treason. Humans gathered with their friends, taking courage in numbers and in alcohol. And, of-course, I have not chosen the time randomly. Our Lord Magneto's daily broadcast will be on shortly, and the way people react to that is usually an indication as to who I should be watching. Sometimes I do not even have to use my powers, just my ears, to hear them condemn themselves. Today should be an interesting day. I understand Our Lord Magneto will be announcing several executions, and that may ferret out many traitors. And yet, when the time comes to turn on the television - the barman does not. Well, that is hardly the crime I'd expected today. When it becomes clear that no-one here is going to make the proper complaint, I move to the bar myself, and demand his attention. "Citizen," I say mildly - for it is always possible that he has simply forgotten, poor excuse though that is, "are you not going to turn on the president's broadcast?" All public places, such as this, are now required by law to show the broadcasts. Some humans, after all, cannot afford sets of their own, and all have a right - and a duty - to hear the words of Our Lord Magneto. The barman is polite, no doubt recognising me as one of Our Lord Magneto's chosen Acolytes. As he should. Even out of my robes, I hope it should be obvious that I am not a human, now that I have dropped my nonentityhood. "It's broken," he explains. And looking at it more closely, I see that it does in fact have something of a hole in the side. Interesting. "Can't get it fixed until next week." He adds, "I tried," and a surface scan ascertains that this is in fact the truth. And yet... he is nervous. Remarkably so, so I question him further, "How did it come to be broken?" He shrugs. "I try to keep a nice place, but sometimes people get outta hand. Drink too much, start fights. You know." He nods his head at the television. "Someone threw something." He seems outwardly at ease, which is greatly at odds with the emotions I sense from him. And I sense something further. He is hiding something. Not lying, precisely, but I am familiar with such tricks. One does not have to lie, to avoid speaking the truth. No doubt there are frequently fights in here, and drunks, and although I am clearly expected to draw the conclusion that it was during a drunken fight that `someone threw something' - it does not necessarily follow. "And were they aiming for the television deliberately?" I ask, my tone still mild. I have my answer before he speaks, in the rise of tension throughout the room, in the spike of fear in the barman. But what he says is, "Nah. Just a fight got outta hand. I'll get it fixed soon as I can. Get you a drink?" I am stunned by his gall. He is _lying_ to me. Right to my face. I say, "You are lying." Right to my _face_. And confronted with his lie, he of-course thinks on what he is lying about, //"That evil son of a bitch! How many dead before he's satisfied? Turn that shit off!" "Hey now, calm down --" "Turn it off!" {SMASH}// So, it was smashed during one of the president's broadcasts, as I suspected. "Where is the man who smashed the television?" I do not show my anger, of-course. Not to a human. "I don't know." Lying to me still. Afraid, and defiant, and stubborn - entirely pointless to question him further. Instead I simply probe deeper into his mind, seeking the name and the face that he's hiding - and come up against a wall that makes this whole situation a great deal more serious. He's shielded. And these aren't natural shields either, they are at odds with the general set of his mind. He has been taught how to do this. _Someone has been teaching humans how to shield_. That's a capital offence. Unfortunately, breaking such shields, and discovering the identity of the criminal, is beyond my abilities. I will have to call for assistance to arrest the man -- and all the bar's patrons -- and then they will all have to be deep- scanned by Alpha level psis. Although it is something of an embarrassment to have to pass this case on to someone else, I am sure that my contribution will not go unnoticed. Perhaps I will get to speak with Our Lord Magneto himself about it. After all, this could well be a lead to the Rebels. Who else would teach humans to shield? I inform the barman - who's name, I find, actually _is_ `Harry' - that he and all his customers are to remain where they are until further notice, and project tranquillity and obedience as thickly as I can throughout the room. Most stay calm and seated, but some - some -- the barman is not the only shielded person in here. This is a great den of iniquity, clearly. I must get things under control at once; if anyone gets away -- well, let me say that in those circumstances, a meeting with Our Lord Magneto would not, after all, be something to look forward to. It is rather a distance to project a call for assistance, given the need to keep so many people tranquil and obedient, and so I quickly pull my com-unit out of my pocket -- and I take my eyes away from the room, trusting my abilities to warn me of any possible attack -- and I am taken entirely by surprise. I do not see the face of the man who rushes me against the bar, or the faces of those that join him, though someone says, "No, don't -!" at the sound of glass breaking -- and of-course I lash out, as I have been strenuously trained to do, with all of my abilities -- and I take down two, perhaps three, far too late as that broken bottle slashes at my neck and chest, and I fall, I fall -- and I reach out with all my abilities, - as I have been so carefully, so lengthily trained to do - to inform someone of my situation, to call for assistance -- and it's too late, it's far too late, and someone says, "Oh God, you've killed him --" a man with red glasses - something about that is familiar - niggles at me -- but my mind is occupied with other things. For I am realising, as I gasp for air, as I breathe blood, as my life pools red beneath me -- I am realising -- I am finding -- I am discovering -- that although my death will of-course be sensed at once -- although it will unquestionably be avenged by my brethren -- although my murderers will be hunted down like the animals they are -- although they will be killed painfully and without haste as an example to all humanity -- although a hundred more of their kind will join me in death -- although - although - although I die in the service of Our Lord - of My Lord - of my lord, Magneto -- i do not want to die - ~end.