"Jean, my thanks on your promptness, I hope I have not disturbed your plans too greatly." Erik's response to Jean's arrival was much in the manner of her greeting. Unlike her communication with Charles, and perhaps others of her more long term allegiance, it remained spoken, in the clipped politeness of humanity rather than the freeflow of mutant telepathic thought. In this instance in particular the latter would have been impossible, the cold metal of Magneto's helm placed upon his features. A sure sign these days that Eric whished to keep his thoughts from straying into the minds of those who might wish to listen. "I would offer refreshments as a good host, but I imagine the selection and the celebration I have taken you from would be far superior, so we shall be direct." Eric's hands met behind his back, his eyes drifting from the form she struck, having just touched down on the structure of his home. His focus settled on the view of the island, and the celebrants, even as he spoke again.

"I am sure you well understand the fragility of this, even as we celebrate. What Charles and I have had to become to ensure it, among the work of others, has necessitated a pragmatism that is far from his first vision, as much as it was my own." As the man spoke, he extended one hand, a trio of metallic orbs floating from within the chamber he had been waiting in, beginning to turn and rotate in perfect even synchronicity around his hand. A form of meditation, but also no doubt, demonstration. "It could not have been done without it, but I also believe we have lost something important, and equally necessary." Once again his eyes settled on her, a turn of his head to bring her back into focus, all the glimmer of her outfit and the blazing corona of her red hair. The woman who had held creation within her.

"It is necessary for you to take a place on the Quiet Council, to hold Charles to account, myself as well, although I doubt you would ever refrain from that duty, even if you weren't." Time and shared struggle had done much to ease the scars of the past, but the memories of their own terrible power turned on each other was still there. "It has to be you, you are a beacon to them, the people celebrating below, even those who hate you, and more importantly, only you could make us appear trivial, were it to be needed." It was certainly not a question, although it fell short of an order, a statement impressing upon her the importance of what he was saying, and perhaps addressing the need for the wearing of his helmet, to prevent him being convinced otherwise before he could bring the matter to her.