"I believe the going theory is that there's some kind of ambient magic at work mutating those areas specifically, though that has its own problems."

Mrs. Carson clears her throat. "I believe we were going to discuss some kind of killer robot apocalypse?"

"Yes, that too," Louis says. "These Sentinels - you say they adapt to any mutant powers used against them. Are they magic-resistant as well?"

"Until today I was not aware that magic was a thing that actually existed." 

Louis raises his eyebrows. "And you expect you would know about it if it did - very interesting. Magic definitely exists in our world. This school actually teaches it, among other subjects."

"We could destroy them."

"Edie's probably the strongest telepath left alive, from our world, unless someone even stronger cropped up outside the States since communications went dark."

Louis nods. "In an odd coincidence, I'm the most powerful telepath in our world - but I'm confined to a swimming pool, so I'm unlikely to be relevant to any campaign against the killer robots. Is there someone in control of these Sentinels?"

"Not anymore. They were supposed to just wipe out the mutants and mutant-sympathizers but, uh, whoever programmed them didn't do a good enough job of defining the latter."

Mrs. Carson looks disgusted. "Not just bastards but incompetent bastards."

"Are the Sentinels sapient?" Louis asks.

"I've never felt a mind off them but considering their adaptiveness that's not proof. I think probably they wouldn't have wiped out their creators if they had any kind of judgment, though."

"You're probably right," he says. "Alright, then. I'll want to know their capabilities - would you mind transmitting that information telepathically, so that we don't miss anything by relying on language?"

"Of course not." 

She lowers her shields completely, and thinks back on every encounter, every fact about the damn things she's ever learned. 

Louis goes in.

It's an odd sensation - in observing her thoughts, he sifts through them like sand. It's possible someone who wasn't so attuned to her own mind wouldn't notice, but to her it's really obvious. It only takes him a few seconds to find what he's looking for, and he scans through the memories rapidly. "Thank you," he says when he's done. "You should raise your shields again, unless you're comfortable with me getting your surface thoughts; I can't help reading people who are near me."

She raises her shields. "That felt odd."

"It's distinctive, isn't it? Skilled psychics can make it feel like nothing, but in psychic circles it's considered polite to make it obvious when you're in someone's mind."

"It felt different than the telepaths back home do. And even if they can go unnoticed by people who aren't themselves telepaths that doesn't necessarily mean I can't tell."

He nods. "Would you like to test it? I'm the most powerful psychic in the world, as far as I know."

"Sure. Might as well see if you can get through my shields, too."

"Alright."

Shields go up around his mental presence.

Her own shields flicker for a split second, and then there's a faint feeling of - well, of having her thoughts read. Not everything feels like something else.

"That was--weirdly ghostly--but I definitely felt it."

He withdraws. "Good to know. Your shields are very strong, I don't think there's many people besides me who could get through them."

"Good. 

"My dad was the strongest telepath in our world, before the Sentinels got him."

"I saw. I'm sorry for your loss."

Nod. 

Hug. 

"I do magnetism. Like our other parent."

Mrs. Carson clears her throat. "Well, given that you're superpowered individuals without anywhere else in this world to go, even if you're not strictly speaking our kind of mutants, Whateley Academy will be willing to provide you with room and board while we work out what to do about your own world."