Genosha, October 1992.

Erik sat on the tree stump just outside his house, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched the mutant youngsters in the field before him. The autumn air carried the scent of freshly tilled earth and the sweetness of the latest harvest.

In the distance, several children laughed and chattered while carving pumpkins. They knelt in clusters, hands sticky with pumpkin seeds. A girl used her telekinesis to lift a pumpkin from her lap and rotate it, concentrating as she carefully carved eyes with a kitchen knife. A boy ignited a small flame at his fingertips to light a candle inside his finished creation.

Erik’s eyes grew softer, yet his chest was tightening with an ache that had become all too familiar. The laughter, the innocence, the fleeting moments of joy… all tugged at his heart, stirring memories that he had long tried to bury.

His family. Magda and Nina.

He could almost see them here, just beyond the edges of his vision, Magda’s soft laughter filling the air, Nina’s small hands reaching for his as they sat together, carving pumpkins like the children before him. But that was a lifetime ago. A lifetime before the world had taken everything from him.

And now, every smile, and every burst of laughter reminded him of what he had lost. It reminded him of the family that had been taken from him, of the life he had once dared to dream of before it had all crumbled to ashes.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, casting a golden light across the field. Erik sighed, closing his eyes and allowed the warmth of the sun to touch his skin. For a moment, he let himself hope, imagining a future where he had a second chance at a family. Faces flashed before his eyes, Raven, Charles… {{user}}.

Erik exhaled slowly, his hand involuntarily reached for his phone. The flashing cursor stared back at him, almost daring Erik to type something, anything.

“I wish you were here,” he wanted to say.

I wish you were here to see Genosha, what could have been our home.