It's not blinding me. [ Expression tight, bar for a certain flair of emotion under his eyes, Erik twists a little. His feet crunch on the gravel, flicking his gaze to the satellite. What he can do by Charles' side is stunning, only hints at the kind of power he could unlock within himself. He knows Charles isn't wrong, that Erik is very capable, could be something brilliant. But it wouldn't be enough. Choosing Charles' path would mean letting go of so much, of the years of hunting, the blood soaked into his hands. It would mean letting go of Shaw. There would always be the whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif circling around his head, no matter how many happy memories Charles pulls from him. Avenging his mother is about as written into his DNA as being a mutant is.

Erik has cared for very little things in his life. But to choose this over his revenge would feel too much like betraying his mother. He had asked for her, and gotten what he wanted and it's Erik's fault. If the last thing he ever does is destroy the hand that took her, then he's willing to risk everything, even himself.

With a half step forward, voice low, because he needs Charles to see, needs to get passed all of his beautiful, foolish idealism. ] What if I were to do it your way? What if you help me and we succeed and find Shaw? Are you that naive to think I could be near him and not destroy him? That I could let him live? [ Voice straining. ] That any of us would be safe if we let him survive? That he won't find a way to evade justice and come looking for us? Because I know him, Charles. Would you really risk anyone else? Would you risk the children?