—
tal scread around Erik Lehnsherr.
Not in agony. tal had no voice to cry out with. But in sympathetic resonance with his own rage. His power flowed outward like a tsunami, seeking every scrap of ferrous material within his sphere of influence. The very foundations of Genosha, his dream made tangible, vibrated with his fury.
And yet, it wasn't enough.
The Sentinel before him shuddered as he tore at its structure, the joints of its massive fra groaning under his assault. But it didn't fall. The machine's eyes flashed an unnatural blue as it reconfigured its molecular structure, adapting to his attack even as he launched it.
[OGA LEVEL THREAT DETECTED.]
[COUNTERASURES DEPLOYED.]
"Counterasures?" Erik snarled, the word tasting like poison on his tongue. "You want to see a threat?"
He closed his fist with brutal force. The Sentinel's arm compressed inward as if crushed by an invisible vise, tal warping and buckling. For a mont, triumph surged through him. Then faltered as the damaged limb simply detached, sacrificed without hesitation, and a new one began reconstructing itself from reserve materials.
They've prepared for specifically.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. These weren't the clumsy robots he'd dismantled in the past. These machines had been engineered with one purpose. To counter mutants. To counter him.
Their tal composition was only partial, integrated with polyrs and ceramics that slipped through his grasp like water through fingers.
Behind him, the screams of his people rose to a cacophony that tore at his soul. People who had trusted him. People who had believed in his promise of sanctuary.
A child's wail cut through the din, higher and more desperate than the rest.
Erik turned to see a group of mutant children, barely older than ten, huddled beneath a partially collapsed structure. Three Sentinels converged on their position, targeting systems that were locked onto their small forms.
[GENETIC ANOMALIES IDENTIFIED.]
[PURGE PROTOCOL INITIATED.]
Genetic Anomalies? How dare they!
But even amid anger, worry surged. "No!" The word erupted from him like physical force, his power surging outward with such intensity that the air itself seed to crackle.
He lifted from the ground, magnetic fields propelling him toward the children faster than human reaction. Ti seed to slow as calculations raced through his mind. The distance. The charging weapons. The children's terrified faces looking up at him with desperate hope.
There's no ti to move them all.
The decision ford with crystalline clarity. He could position himself between the children and the beams. He'd erect an electromagnetic shield around him, and his body could then absorb the brunt of the attack. Perhaps long enough for them to escape. Perhaps not. It didn't matter.
He would not watch children die again. Not when he had the power to prevent it.
Not like before.
mories of another ti flashed through him. Rain against a concentration camp fence, his parents torn from him, his powers manifesting too late to save them.
Never again.
Erik thrust his arms outward, calling upon every reserve of his considerable power to create a magnetic shield. It wouldn't hold against a direct hit from all three Sentinels, but it didn't need to. It just needed to last long enough for him to reach the children, to place his body in the line of fire.
The Sentinels' chest plates glowed with building energy. One second to firing. The children scread.
And then, impossibly, one of the Sentinels turned. Its glowing chest plate swiveled away from the children and fired directly into the second Sentinel's head, decapitating it in a shower of sparks and molten tal.
For a mont, Erik thought he was hallucinating. Then he saw it. Green circuitry spreading across the machine's form like living veins, its eyes shifting from cold blue to vibrant erald.
"These heartless tin-cans." The Sentinel's voice was all wrong. Young, defiant, distinctly human. "Get the kids out of here, Magneto! I've got this!"
Benjamin Tennyson.
The boy had sohow rged with the Sentinel, taken control of it from within. As Erik watched, the hijacked machine turned with surprising grace, firing precision blasts that disabled the third Sentinel's weapon systems without detonating its power core.
Erik didn't waste the opportunity. He reached the children in seconds, enveloping them in a protective magnetic bubble that lifted them from the ground. Their terrified faces pressed against the energy field, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and wonder.
"You're safe now," he told them, his voice gentler than anyone who knew only Magneto would have believed possible. "I'm taking you to the evacuation point."
As he guided them away from the imdiate danger zone, Erik glanced back at the Tennyson-controlled Sentinel. The machine moved with a fluid efficiency that belied its massive fra, systematically dismantling other Sentinels with their own weapons.
A grudging respect ford in Erik's mind. The human boy, not a mutant, yet not entirely human either, fought with everything he had to save Erik's people. People who, in many ways, were not his own.
Perhaps Xavier had been right about so things after all.
But as Erik carried the children to relative safety, his eyes lifted to the burning sky where more Sentinels descended, numberless as stars. One boy, no matter how powerful, could not stop this. The dream of Genosha was ending in fire.
Unless...
A plan began forming in Erik's mind. A desperate, terrible plan that would require resources he'd hidden away for the darkest of contingencies. Resources that even Charles didn't know about.
If he couldn't save Genosha today, he would ensure that humanity paid for its treachery tomorrow.
The children were safe. Now Magneto had a war to plan. But first, he would fight alongside the Tennyson boy. Just this once, their goals aligned perfectly.
The extinction of these abominations from the sky.
****
The Sentinel's internal systems felt like swimming through digital syrup. Every circuit, every processor, every line of code was mine to command. The machine's body moved with my thoughts, its weapons discharged with my intent.
This is different from before, I thought, analyzing the tactical data flowing through the Sentinel's sensors. These aren't the clunky robots from the shows. They're learning, adapting in real-ti.
Another Sentinel approached from the east, already shifting its armor configuration based on my attack patterns. I fired, but it had anticipated the move, dodging with inhuman grace before returning fire. I absorbed the hit, using the Sentinel's own adaptive armor against it, then retaliated with a combination of attacks that finally overwheld its defenses.
Seven down. How many more?
The answer ca from the machine's communication network. Hundreds. They were everywhere, systematically executing what their protocols called 'genetic cleansing.' The clinical term for mass murder made my consciousness burn with rage within the circuitry.
But then I felt it. Resistance. Not from the Sentinel's base programming, but from sothing else. Sothing reaching through the network, trying to reassert control.
"Interesting." The voice resonated through the digital space, neither male nor female but sohow both. "A technological consciousness interfacing with my children. You must be the Tennyson variable."
Bastion, that bastard. The Technomancer himself, trying to override my control through long-range network access.
Not a chance, Alexa.
I pushed back, Upgrade's Galvan-designed consciousness easily repelling his intrusion. Azmuth had created sothing that could interface with technology from any corner of the universe. So Earth-based hybrid wasn't going to override that.
"Impressive," Bastion admitted. "Your technology is not of this world. But neither am I anymore."
The pressure increased, but I held firm, continuing to use the Sentinel to protect fleeing mutants. A family here, a group of children there. Each life saved was a small victory against the horror.
"Unfortunately," Bastion continued. "It seems I can't enjoy you for long. See you."
That's when I felt it. Not through the Sentinel's sensors but through so instinct that transcended technology. Danger. Imdiate and overwhelming.
The telekinetic force hit like a sledgehamr made of pure thought. One mont I was rged with the Sentinel, the next I was being violently ripped from its circuitry. The separation was agony, like having your nervous system pulled out through your pores.
I materialized in my human form twenty feet in the air, held by an invisible grip around my throat. The pressure was imnse, not just cutting off air that I didn't require in this form but threatening to snap my neck entirely.
Through watering eyes, I saw her.
Bald. Female. Features that bore a disturbing resemblance to a twisted mirror of Charles Xavier. She stood amid the burning ruins with perfect poise, not a speck of ash on her pristine white outfit despite the carnage around her.
No... not her. Not Cassandra Nova.
The recognition hit like ice water. Xavier's twin sister. The living anti-thesis of everything Charles represented. A being of pure malevolence who existed only to cause him pain.
I'd miscalculated sothing when planning for Genosha. This world wasn't simply the animated show's tiline, I'd forgotten that. The comics had a Genosha incident as well, which was far more grueso. Because Cassandra Nova led it.
A dangerous villain had entered the ga.
I've been preparing for the wrong threat.
This isn't just about Sentinels... it's about her.
She walked in the air slowly, studying like a scientist examining a particularly interesting specin. The telekinetic grip shifted but not enough to speak or scream.
"Benjamin Tennyson." Her voice was Xavier's but wrong, like a beautiful lody played in a minor key. "The boy with the watch. How fascinating to finally et the variable I couldn't predict."
I recalled that scene from the Deadpool & Wolverine movie. Where Cassandra had torn apart the Human Torch as if he were a piece of loosely woven clothes. Dammit, this is bad. The smile that spread across her face was the most terrifying thing I'd seen all night. And in a night full of genocide and giant robots, that was saying sothing.
"You've been quite troubleso, young man. Saving all those important people, disrupting carefully laid plans." She tilted her head, and I felt pressure against my mind, like fingers trying to pry open a locked door. "But don't worry. I have special plans for you."
The Omnitrix pulsed on my alien chest, ready to transform into sothing that'd be more helpful in this situation, but the telekinetic grip had my arm locked in place. I couldn't move, couldn't struggle, and couldn't even call for help.
And sowhere in the burning city, the Sentinels continued their work, no longer held back by my interference.
The genocide resud.
And Cassandra Nova just smiled.
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