The room smelled of iron and old paper.
Magneto's office was all clean lines and war-era furniture — minimalism laced with menace. The desk looked like it had once belonged to a general. The chair behind it was tall-backed, leather, and didn't creak when he leaned forward.
Mystique stood near the door, arms crossed, back straight.
She said nothing.
She'd already delivered her report.
Two others stood off to the side. Brotherhood regulars: one leaning, one pacing.
Toad — hunched, wide-mouthed, impatient — clicked his tongue against his teeth and chuckled.
"Kid must be brain-damaged. Turning you down? Heh. Maybe he likes living in holes."
"More likely," said Frenzy, tall and built like a steel beam, "he just isn't that strong. Barely handled a few thugs."
Mystique didn't look at either of them. But her jaw tensed.
Fools.
They hadn't been there.
They hadn't seen the boy's eyes — calm in chaos, his movements sudden and sharp. They hadn't felt the pressure of his presence, the raw, unyielding energy he tried — and failed — to keep hidden under a hoodie and silence.
He wasn't impressive because of what he'd done.
He was terrifying because of what he hadn't done.
Yet.
Magneto, seated at the desk with one gloved hand resting on a sheaf of papers, finally spoke.
"When?"
"Today," Mystique replied. "Xavier's watching him. They haven't spoken yet, but they will. Soon."
Magneto said nothing for a moment.
Then he stood.
Straight-backed and regal.
"I've waited long enough."
Frenzy straightened. Toad stopped pacing.
Mystique stepped forward, voice low. "He turned me down because he saw through me. You push him now, it'll backfire."
Magneto didn't turn. He faced the massive window behind his desk, where grey clouds crept slowly across the skyline.
"Then we will be honest."
Mystique blinked. "What?"
"If deception fails," he said softly, "perhaps the truth will move him."
Toad muttered, "Since when do we do truth?"
Magneto finally turned to face them.
"There is more to that boy than what Cerebro sees," he said. "More than Charles knows. More than he knows."
Mystique's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Magneto stepped closer, the magnetic pull of his presence tightening the air around them.
"I felt it. When I reviewed the footage. When I heard the report." His voice dropped, soft as steel. "He's not like the others. Not even like us."
Frenzy raised an eyebrow. "You're saying he's not a mutant?"
"I'm saying," Magneto said, "he is something new. Something the world will either destroy… or bow to."
He stepped past them toward the door, his cloak sweeping lightly over the floor.
"We will speak to him before Charles does."
"And if he refuses again?" Mystique asked.
Magneto smiled.
"Then we help him… remember what survival requires."
—---------------------------------------------------
The alley behind the Thai restaurant hadn't changed in weeks — still cluttered with broken pallets, sour-smelling dumpsters, and a cracked mural half-painted with graffiti.
Eli liked it here.
Not for the ambiance — for the angles.
There were four exits, three lines of sight, and a rooftop ledge low enough to reach in two jumps.
He sat on the edge of a crate, chewing on a stale protein bar, hoodie drawn up, eyes on the street.
The wind carried the faint buzz of city noise — cabs, glass bottles, yelling two blocks down. Rain threatened on the air.
He didn't feel alone.
He never did anymore.
So when the metal in the alley groaned — a soft, magnetic creak like dozens of screws whispering at once — he wasn't surprised.
He just stood up slowly.
Magneto stepped forward first, boots silent against the concrete, long coat catching the breeze like a cape.
Three others followed.
Frenzy. Toad. And a fourth — Pyro, fire-flicked eyes already twitching behind his flame-patterned collar.
Magneto's voice was low, calm, but carried like thunder.
"You don't look like much."
Eli met his gaze.
"Neither do you."
Toad snorted.
Magneto smiled slightly. "Good. I prefer honesty."
Eli's hand stayed loose at his side, but his shoulders coiled slowly.
"Let me guess," he said. "You're the boss behind the friendly pitch I already turned down."
"Raven gave you an option," Magneto replied. "I offer you truth."
"No thanks."
"You haven't heard it yet."
Eli's nostrils flared, but he stayed still.
Magneto raised a hand. "You've survived what should've killed you. Your body strengthens itself through resistance, pain, battle."
Eli didn't flinch.
Magneto continued, eyes sharp.
"That's not a mutation. That's selection. At its purest. And you are its result."
Eli's fingers twitched.
"You're not one of Xavier's soft prodigies," Magneto said. "You're a fighter. Like me."
"I'm nothing like you," Eli said.
"You will be."
"No."
"Why?"
Eli's voice was calm.
"Because I saw what happened to the last guy who tried to measure me."
—---------------------------------------------------
One block away, a black car stopped.
Logan stepped out first. Sniffed the air. "Metal. Heat. Trouble."
Scott followed, visor already active. "Magneto."
Davos brought up the rear, quiet but sharp-eyed. "Eli's there."
Xavier, still seated in the car, spoke into their comms.
"Do not escalate. I'll join shortly."
Logan cracked his knuckles. "He started it."
"Let's end it before he does worse." Scott said.
They moved as a unit — across the street, through the alley mouth.
And there, they saw it.
Magneto and three others, standing before the boy.
Standoff.
Eli looked at the newcomers, then back at Magneto.
And smiled, just slightly in anticipation for what's to come.
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