Cary didn't blame her either, something made evident by his exhausted expression. He understood from an objective standpoint -- but despite the shift in time, the many years that had passed, Kerry remained raw action and emotion while Cary was objectivity and statistics. It was a balance Cary had always valued, a first-hand look at the emotional, subjective view from his counterpart -- but as soon as it shifted from protecting him to fighting in a war? It became difficult to follow the black and white from the growing gray.
"I tried to think ahead, to read between the lines of his powers," Cary admitted with a shrug. It made sense, considering the immense psychic power David had. If it wasn't Syd he sent hurtling through time, he'd send anyone who could handle the details better than he could. Syd, Ptonomy, Melanie. Anyone that could be trusted. Anyone they both knew. Cary took that risk, used each of their genetic markers as a key just in case.
But how this all happened, that was a question that had him frowning even more severely. "The first year was all planning, every intricate detail. Probably too much," he said unhappily, knowing now that it was his own and Melanie's influence that allowed that. Too much time spent plotting, too little time acting. "By the time we fought back, it was like hitting our heads against a wall, with mutant and human kind." By then, mutants had been outed as a public fact, a threat, and the bigger mess, bigger problem, began to spread.
But it was Farouk that cut them down, thinned their numbers. Ptonomy, then Melanie, then Syd. The last had been used as an extreme example to the only individual who could stand up against the Shadow King, an individual who was already emotionally and mentally unstable.
The matter of the Shadow King observing, even now, wasn't surprising, though the matter of another David being here most certainly was, and Cary's eyes went wide immediately. "If he's here, the two of them can't meet," he said immediately, severely. "It's all theory, but the two of them meeting? Bad, bad idea." He shook his head and waved his hands around wildly as if it would it would be the end of the universe as they knew it. It was only a theory, but he'd rather be safe than sorry. "As long as he's busy keeping you from the Farouk's eye, then we're okay. It'll buy us some time to fix this."
Because he wanted to fix this. This world? It was a ticking time-bomb, little more. There was no saving it. Stopping at a particular door, Cary looked at Syd intently: "I know he's still in there, and he knows something. After losing you, there was no getting him back. But if you can get through to him and figure out a way for you and your David to get back and to stop all this from happening?" Cary motioned to the scar on his face, "It never has to happen at all." It was a big ask from someone displaced in time, but he had to -- he had to try. She was the only variable that could make something happen. "I've been trying for years without success," he offered, trying to give some kind of timeline. "Year one: slaughter, year two: causality after casualty... plus a new cold war between human and mutant kind."
Cary's eyes fell to the hand that had found its way to the latch on the door from the hall to another chamber, one that was dark on the inside. Dark and quiet. "The last couple years have been a stand-still. Kerry and I just... waiting. I couldn't lose her too." So they'd both been stuck down here waiting, hiding, unsure of the next best step. "You're the only person that might get through to him and get some idea of how to prevent all this from happening." Blunt and to the point, by neither Cary nor Kerry were one for subtlety.
"I'm so sorry," he offered suddenly, his expression a mixture of desperation and exhaustion. "This can't be easy, but we might not have much time..."