The battle raged like a tempest over the Xavier Institute. Bobby and Storm coordinated their attacks against Magneto, a dance of ice and lightning slicing through the air, crackling with tension. But even as their elemental forces collided with Magneto's defenses, they held back—tethered by their fear of harming the unconscious figure Magneto held in his arms like a trophy: Professor Charles Xavier.
Every strike, every spark, was calculated—measured. Storm's eyes glowed with raw energy as she summoned wind currents to disorient him, while Bobby arched shards of ice like javelins. Magneto, however, stood resolute, repelling their attacks with a mere gesture of his hand. His magnetic field flared like a shield of shimmering silver, deflecting every strike with chilling precision.
Then came the retaliation.
With a furious flick of his hand, Magneto tore an iron railing from the wreckage around the school and hurled it through the air with deadly speed. Bobby barely had time to flinch before the bar came for him—but Colossus was faster. With a metallic roar, the Russian mutant threw himself in front of Bobby, intercepting the bar with his armored body. It clanged against his chest and ricocheted into the rubble, harmlessly.
Amid the chaos, as students fled and the X-Men scrambled to hold their lines, I took a gamble.
"Rogue," I said, turning to her, "you and Magneto… you have history. Maybe he'll listen to you. Maybe, if there's anything left of who he used to be, you can reach it."
Her eyes widened with hesitation. Memories flickered behind them—painful ones. Rogue and Magneto shared a complicated past, marked by moments of closeness and betrayal. She nodded slowly, pushing her fear aside, and stepped toward the airborne tyrant.
"Erik… please," Rogue called up, her voice cracking with emotion. "This isn't the way."
Magneto turned his head slightly at her voice. For a brief moment, his expression seemed to soften—but only for a heartbeat. Without a word, he summoned a large piece of metallic debris and hurled it at her with terrifying force. It struck her squarely, sending her flying into the wall of the school with a sickening thud. The impact left her unconscious, crumpled against the stone like a broken doll.
My blood boiled. As Magneto's gaze shifted elsewhere, I launched myself forward, surging through the air with all the power I could muster. I closed in—mere meters away from reaching him—when a sudden blast slammed into me from the side.
I spiraled through the sky and crashed hard into the ground, skidding across the earth and leaving a jagged trench behind me.
My ribs screamed in agony.
I groaned and tried to rise—but then I saw her.
Jubilee stood above me, her expression unreadable. In her hands, she held a sleek laser rifle, still humming from the shot that had downed me.
"Jubi…?" I wheezed in disbelief.
She stepped closer, leveling the rifle at my face. "It's nothing personal, dude. So don't try anything heroic—or I'll decorate this lawn with your brains."
Then, as if shedding a mask, her skin shimmered and shifted. Before me stood not Jubilee, but Mystique—the infamous shapeshifter and longtime lieutenant of Magneto.
I understood immediately. Magneto hadn't come alone. He had orchestrated this assault meticulously. Every move, every diversion—it had all been part of a larger plan. And I had walked right into it.
"You son of a—" I spat, but before I could finish, Mystique jammed the barrel of her rifle against my forehead.
"Keep talking, and I'll give you something to really cry about," she growled.
"Get up," she ordered. "Now."
I slowly complied, raising my hands.
"Where are we going? And what did you do to the real Jubilee?" I asked.
"She's alive. For now. But if you force my hand, I can't guarantee her continued health," Mystique said coldly. Her voice wavered for a moment—just a flicker—but it was enough to remind me she wasn't as emotionless as she pretended to be.
"And why me? What does Magneto want?"
Mystique smirked. "Let's just say he finds you… interesting. You've been at the center of too many coincidences. He thinks you hold the key to what happened to Xavier."
I clenched my fists. "So you were the one in my room, that night…"
Mystique laughed, a bitter edge to her voice. "Aw, disappointed? Hoping for a more… comforting visitor? You should've seen your face. So full of doubt and torment. Priceless."
Before I could reply, a blur crashed into the ground beside us.
Wolverine
He pulled himself from a small crater, groaning. "Damn that brute's gotten stronger…"
Emerging from the shadows was Sabertooth, Wolverine's feral nemesis. With a roar, he lunged at Logan, slamming into him with a suplex that shook the earth. Claws met claws in a savage clash of rage and muscle. They fought like wild animals, snarling, slashing, locked in a primal dance of destruction.
All around us, the battle intensified. Bobby and Colossus now faced the towering Blob and the blinding speed of Quicksilver. Jean and Scott had freed themselves and were launching precision blasts at Magneto once more. Kitty, Nightcrawler, and Beast struggled to hold the line against Pyro's flames and the disorienting rushes of Quicksilver.
Through it all, Mystique kept pushing me forward, deeper into the mansion.
"You know," I said between breaths, "I could take you down if I wanted to."
"Then why don't you?" she asked without looking back.
"Because I don't know where Jubilee is. And I'm not risking her life."
Mystique gave a humorless chuckle. "Smart."
We reached the lower levels of the mansion, and she began overriding security systems with stunning ease.
"How the hell do you have access to the doors?"
"Please. I was among you for over twenty-four hours. That's all the time I needed."
I cursed under my breath. She was right. We had let our guard down.
Then came a shout from behind.
"Mother!"
It was Nightcrawler. In a blink, he teleported between us, delivering a spinning kick that sent Mystique's gun clattering to the ground.
Seizing the moment, I transformed my arm into a cannon and aimed it at her head. But Mystique raised her hand calmly.
"Go ahead," she said. "But remember—she's still my hostage."
I hesitated. My finger hovered over the trigger.
"Sorry about this, Nightcrawler."
"Wait—what do you mea—" he began, but I knocked him out with a swift strike to the neck.
He crumpled.
"Good choice," Mystique muttered.
"You're not angry? That was your son."
She stiffened, then shrugged. "He made his choice. I made mine."
But in her eyes, I saw something else—regret, pain. A flicker of the mother she once tried to be. She turned away, hiding it behind her cold mask.
We boarded the Blackbird. Mystique took the controls, steering it over the burning school grounds.
"I've got the package. Get onboard," she said into her comm.
Moments later, the others boarded—Sabertooth, Pyro, and Quicksilver, each scarred but satisfied.
Magneto rose above the school like a god, releasing a burst of magnetic force hulling chucks of metal, sending the remaining X-Men flying backward. He floated into the jet, cradling Xavier like a broken relic.
But Jean Grey wasn't finished.
Her eyes blazed with fury and power. Extending both hands, she froze the Blackbird in mid-air with a telekinetic grip. Engines roared, but the jet didn't move an inch.
Mystique poured power into the thrusters. "She's too strong!"
"She's the Phoenix host alright," I whispered.
Magneto handed Xavier to Sabertooth and soared out of the hatch.
He found Jean—concentrating, struggling to hold the plane.
And then, like a cruel joke of fate Wolverine, the closest to her, moved.
He didn't want to. He resisted with every fiber of his being.
But Magneto's influence over his adamantium skeleton was absolute.
Jean turned just in time to see Logan drive his claws into her side.
Her scream echoed across the battlefield. Her concentration shattered.
The Blackbird lurched forward—and vanished into the clouds.
Jean collapsed into wolverine's arms, regret showing.
The battlefield fell still.
And the Brotherhood had won—for now.
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