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Pain blurred the edges of my vision as Magneto continued his relentless assault, manipulating the magnetic fields in and around my mechanical limbs with ruthless precision. Each gesture of his hand twisted and pulled the metallic fibers beneath my synthetic skin, stretching nerves and wires like violin strings ready to snap.
"I told you," I gasped, jaw clenched against the searing pain, "I don't fucking know!"
But Magneto wasn't interested in my denial. He hovered a few feet away, his eyes burning with anger and suspicion.
"Lies!" he barked, his voice echoing off the high metallic ceiling of the chamber. "Keep lying, and I promise you, I can do this all day."
With a subtle motion of his fingers, the magnetic field intensified, yanking my right arm until it was nearly torn from the socket. Despite the technological enhancements riddled through my body—my limbs, my spine, even parts of my skull—pain still flooded my nervous system. I wasn't completely machine. My heart was still human. My brain still felt everything.
I groaned in agony as my shoulder joint began to separate, the strain threatening to rip flesh and alloy apart.
"Enough!" A sharp voice cut through the room like a blade.
Mystique entered the chamber with cool confidence, her blue form a striking contrast against the stark steel surroundings. She stepped forward, placing herself between me and Magneto.
"If you dismantle him," she said sternly, "we'll never get answers. And more importantly—he may still prove useful to us."
Magneto's eyes narrowed, displeased by the interruption. But he didn't argue. He slowly withdrew the magnetic force, releasing his invisible grip. My arm dropped limply to my side as I collapsed to my knees, barely able to breathe through the residual pain.
"Take him back to his cell," Magneto muttered, turning away.
Mystique walked over and hauled me to my feet, then cuffed my wrists again with little sympathy. A sleek pistol extended from her thigh holster, which she pressed lightly against my temple—not to intimidate, just to remind me who was in control.
As she guided me out of the chamber, I coughed, spitting blood onto the ground, then looked sideways at her.
"I saw what you did there," I said between breaths. "You helped me."
Her face didn't twitch, her steps steady and controlled. "No," she replied coldly. "I simply saw the logic in keeping you alive. That's not help. That's strategy."
"But earlier… you believed me," I persisted. "You didn't think I had anything to do with what happened to Xavier."
She didn't respond right away. We turned a corner, descending into the dim corridors of Genosha's underground detention level. The air smelled faintly of sweat and ozone.
"I'm curious," she finally said. "Curious enough to see what you're really hiding—if anything."
"I'll keep that in mind," I said with a smirk, though every breath still burned in my chest.
We stopped outside my cell. She began keying in the passcode.
"Can I make an observation?" I asked carefully.
Mystique arched an eyebrow but didn't stop her fingers from gliding across the keypad.
"Sure," she said flatly. "Hit me."
I turned my head to look at her fully, despite the pain. "Back there… you acted more like Raven than Mystique."
Her hand froze mid-motion.
A second later, she slammed me hard into the wall, her fingers tightening around my throat. Her usually calm demeanor vanished as a storm brewed in her amber eyes.
"If you ever call me that again," she hissed, "I will not hesitate to put you down like a broken drone."
I didn't flinch. "Touchy subject," I croaked.
She let me go with a shove and pushed me into the cell without another word. The door slammed shut behind me.
The next day came with the familiar clang of steel on steel—guards banging on the door with the same mindless rhythm that announced their presence every morning. Only this time, they weren't alone. They brought Jubilee with them, her face tense and confused.
"Move," one of them barked. "Time to stretch those legs."
They led us through the winding alleys of Genosha. The streets were oddly quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath. We passed beneath a towering structure, through tunnels marked with faded murals and old propaganda. Then, suddenly, the noise shifted—cheers and jeers erupted in the distance, growing louder with every step we took.
We emerged into what could only be described as an arena.
The air hit me first—a sickening mix of blood, sweat, and bile. The metallic stench clung to the back of my throat like rust. The ground beneath us was stained red, and the cages surrounding the pit buzzed faintly with electricity. This wasn't just an arena. It was a coliseum.
"Inhumane," I muttered, eyeing the electrified mesh.
The crowd roared, mutants of all shapes and sizes crammed into the seats above, shouting and waving, some in excitement, others in bloodlust.
Jubilee grabbed my arm. "What the hell is this place?"
"Entertainment," I replied bitterly.
Then the gates on the far side of the arena opened, and two familiar hulking figures stepped into the ring—Blob and Sabretooth. Both radiated malice, their eyes locked on us.
Our shackles were removed.
Sabretooth wasted no time. With a feral roar, he lunged at me, claws extended. I barely managed to duck in time, his blades slicing through the air where my face had been. His next pounce came fast, almost too fast, but survival forced my body to react.
I braced for impact—and something happened. My body hardened, my skin shifting into gleaming adamantium. I hadn't even realized I could do that.
Sabretooth's claws scraped harmlessly off my metallic arms. I blocked, then caught one of his swipes mid-air.
"My turn," I growled.
A punch to the gut folded him forward, followed by a brutal uppercut that lifted him off the ground. But he recovered quickly, as wild as ever. He launched himself again and kicked me square in the chest, sending me flying into the cage wall.
The electricity surged through me. Sparks exploded at my joints, and I screamed. But I had felt worse. Magneto's torture had scorched something deeper.
I dropped to my knees, gasping, but not down. Not yet.
Across the ring, Jubilee danced around Blob's massive bulk. She hurled explosive sparks at him, managing to score some hits, but his sheer size made him hard to stop. He plowed through walls of rubble with terrifying force.
Sabretooth came for me again. But this time, I was ready.
I stood tall, eyes locked on him. My right arm transformed into a blade—sleek, sharp, deadly.
He closed the distance, snarling—and I drove the blade straight into his chest.
Time slowed.
Sabretooth gasped, his growl dying into a rasp as blood bubbled at the corner of his lips. I pulled the blade out and stepped back as he crumpled to the ground, twitching once, then falling still.
Jubilee screamed behind me. Blob had cornered her, arm raised for the final blow. Without thinking, I aimed and fired.
My forearm morphed again, becoming a cannon.
The blast tore through the arena and through Blob's chest. He dropped like a felled tree, shaking the ground as he collapsed beside her.
Silence fell.
The crowd, once rabid, now sat frozen in stunned disbelief. No one cheered. No one moved.
Even Jubilee stood rooted in place, blood splattered on her face, staring at me with wide eyes.
Up in the viewing platform, Magneto rose slowly to his feet, his face pale but furious. Behind him stood cloaked figures—his inner circle—watching with unreadable expressions.
"You see?" Magneto shouted, pointing at me as if I were some sort of monster on display. "This is what I warned you all about! This creature—this thing—is not to be trusted. And now you understand why Xavier feared him!"
He turned to the cloaked figures. "You've seen it with your own eyes. He is not mutant. Not man. He is something else entirely."
My eyes met Magneto's as the crowd began murmuring, divided between horror and awe.
Whatever this was… it had only just begun.