Thanks to Mystique, there was little hiding who he was and what he'd done. He wasn't about to apologize. This world wasn't their own, the struggles were different, and they'd already made it clear that he was perfectly able to walk free regardless of what he'd done or planned to do. What he'd done in his own world was unimportant as long as he behaved now. Whether he had good cause to avoid trouble or he found reason to fight back was up in the air.
It was a cage. It was a nice cage, the people seemed friendly despite being wary, but it was a cage nonetheless. No civilization for miles, resources stretching thin, a tiny society huddled underground afraid of threats from the outside. They were effectively trapped, all of them, and he had to imagine that it was keeping the infighting at a minimum when they all were simply working toward survival as the main goal.
He walked silently down the hall, one hand on his pocket and the other trailing over the wall to his right. He was mapping the place, memorizing its layout, marking its escape routes. There weren't enough ways out.
He lifted his gaze from the floor, pausing in counting his steps when he saw her.
Beautiful.
He stopped, waiting for her to get closer and simply watching. Elegant, graceful, something different from telekinesis with the red glow from her hands.
"Practice or pleasure?" he asked, leaning up against the wall.