Erik let out a soft, audible gasp when the block disintegrated. He'd seen people with extraordinary gifts, he'd taken them under his wing, he'd mentored them. Every time he saw a new power it moved him, like he was being opened up to a new and beautiful piece of the world that he never knew existed.
Who was she, and what was she doing here?
"My name is Erik Lehnsherr," he said gently. It wasn't the name he preferred. His name was Magneto. It was the name that was his, the one detached from his human identity, from a life of pain he didn't want to connect to. The name Erik meant little to him now, a scared little boy who missed his mother and demanded revenge on the world.
Magneto was his chosen name, away from the bonds of humankind, a new name for a new race, a new culture.
He was aware other people didn't see it that way.
"And your name?" His Russian was good, but it was accented with German, just enough to color it. His English didn't have it, not the same way, but his English was better than his Russian.