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Sabretooth roared angrily and tried to tear open the cage with his claws, but unfortunately, his strength couldn't shake the chaos magic at all. Mystique, who had initially planned to join in, glanced at Wanda, the girl who had stretched out her hand to cast the magic. Their eyes t, and Mystique shrugged, understanding the situation. She stood down without further action.
"Interesting ability," Mystique muttered.
anwhile, Johnny Blaze was frozen in fear, shocked by how quickly the battle had ended. Across from him, Magneto was already applauding, clearly impressed. Whether it was Sergei's speed, which was too fast for the naked eye to follow, or Wanda's flawless energy manipulation, both had earned his admiration. Even though the young man standing beside Wanda hadn't acted, Magneto was certain he wasn't weak. After all, the strong do not associate with the weak—that was a principle Magneto firmly believed in.
Despite being montarily restrained, Magneto wasn't angry. He could tell that the three before him didn't harbor any real malice. Their actions were simply to prevent further fighting. Looking at Wanda with a smile of approval, he said, "It seems today will give so pleasant dreams."
"Are you mutants as well?" Magneto asked.
"Not sure," Wanda replied with a slight shake of her head. She and Pietro had often wondered whether they were mutants because of their special abilities. But to Leon and others, it never mattered. Whether they were mutants or not, they were family, and that was what counted. As a result, Wanda and Pietro had never dwelled on the question.
As for Wanda's chaos magic, Leon had once explained that it ca from a very ancient and powerful being. However, he hadn't revealed who or what that being was, only assuring them that it wasn't a problem. If any issues arose, Leon had promised he would deal with them in due ti.
Magneto, interpreting Wanda's response in his own way, assud the three were indeed mutants. His mood brightened further, pleased at the thought of his growing mutant family. With a newfound sense of warmth, he addressed them in a gentle tone, almost like an affectionate uncle.
"What are your nas?" he asked.
"Wanda."
"Pietro."
"Sergei."
"Alright then, Wanda," Magneto began, his tone passionate. "You must have heard what I said earlier. We are born to be united. Together, we will beco the new humans and rule this world." He was trying to use his charisma and persuasive words to win over the three "juniors" with such remarkable abilities.
However, Wanda and Pietro exchanged a glance, their expressions slightly awkward. Pietro shrugged and said, "Well, Mr. Eric, we respect your beliefs and won't interfere with them, but we already have a family and are happy with our current lives. So, I don't see a reason to join your Brotherhood."
Pietro's straightforward response caused Magneto to pause, his high spirits dampened. Had he really failed? He thought to himself: Are young people this hard to sway these days? This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Frowning, Magneto looked at the twins and lowered his voice. "Then why did you appear before ? If you're not here to stop from destroying the city, that seems... absurd."
"Not at all," Wanda replied without hesitation. She gestured toward Johnny Blaze. "We're only here to collect a bit of this gentleman's blood."
"Blood?" Magneto's and Mystique's expressions changed instantly. Suspicion filled their minds. If Johnny was also a mutant, why did they need his blood? Was it for so sort of experint?
Both Magneto and Mystique had experienced the horrors of cruel experints conducted on mutants in the past. That history was one of the reasons they had founded the Brotherhood—to overthrow the human governnts that enabled such atrocities. As these dark thoughts surfaced, Magneto's once-pleased expression turned grim.
Boom!
The tal storm swirling above began to grow more turbulent, reflecting Magneto's darkening mood. The sudden shift caused renewed panic in the city, with citizens screaming in fear. From distant streets, the wailing of sirens echoed as the authorities responded to the chaos.
Yet, neither Wanda nor Magneto paid the commotion any mind. Their gazes were locked. Magneto stared at Wanda's delicate face, his voice tense. "Why do you need his blood?"
"I don't know," Wanda answered without hesitation, "but he needs it."
He? The flas of Magneto's suspicion and anger flared even higher. He began to believe that Wanda was being manipulated—perhaps by so scheming figure, possibly from the human governnt, to turn against her own kind. Suppressing his growing rage, Magneto spoke softly, "Can you tell who he is? Is he with the governnt? Why does he need the blood? Is it for experints?"
A torrent of questions followed, one after another.
Wanda remained calm. She thought for a mont before replying, "He is my family, the foundation of this entire family. I can assure you, Mr. Eric, we an no harm to mutants."
"I want to believe you," Magneto said seriously, "but if I don't get a clear answer, I won't let you take the blood of any mutant. My child, I've seen too many horrors. Every ti I think of it, it's a nightmare. And every ti I wake from it, I want to send all those damned monsters to hell."
Johnny was slightly moved. For all of Magneto's strength and dominance, he clearly had a soft spot for protecting his own. Wanda and Pietro also felt a flicker of empathy. They too had been part of that world once, before Leon had changed their fates at the base.
As the sound of sirens grew louder in the distance, Wanda spoke softly, "Mr. Eric, I think you still rember the incident with Stryker and his experints at the base, don't you?"
At the ntion of Stryker, Magneto stiffened. Then, realization dawned on him. "You were involved in that?"
"Yes," Wanda confird. "Pietro, Sergei, and I all went through what you described. That's why we hate them as well."
As she spoke, Wanda walked toward Johnny, taking a syringe from her waist. When Johnny looked hesitant, she smiled softly before gently injecting it into his arm. Magneto watched with a conflicted expression, frowning, torn between his instincts, but ultimately deciding not to intervene.
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