Eric hissed as the wound on his shoulder was cleaned.
"Please sit still, Eric, or this will only hurt more." Raven said as she carefully treated him.
"The pain is nothing compared to my pride. I can't believe I allowed myself to be hurt like this." Eric said, though gritted teeth.
"You can't expect to declare war on the entire world, and them not doing their best at fighting back against you. Them making special weapons is to be expected." Raven admonished him as she continued to deal with the wound.
It wasn't anything overly serious; Eric wasn't some inexperienced youngster who didn't prepare to deal with glass knives and plastic guns with rubber bullets.
But that only made the wound to his pride all the more serious when he still allowed himself to get hurt by an assassin.
Worse was the fact that he likely couldn't keep the attack a secret. This war was also one about hearts and beliefs; he needed more on his side, both his fellow mutants and normal people.
As much as he disdained them, he understood that they, too, had a role to play.
With public support behind his cause, he would be able to stop his enemies from fighting him effectively, because those enemies still wanted to pretend to be democratic nations, so they couldn't go against the people.
Which gave him an opening, since they were forced to fight in secret, using only smaller units, he could still withstand the pressure. But should he falter, show weakness, they would no doubt try to push him harder still.
"There, all fixed, though try to keep your arm still for the next few days." Raven finally said as she finished bandaging up his wound.
Eric just sighed and stood up, testing his range of movements. It still hurt, drawing a hiss from him, but at least he wasn't bleeding anymore. "I shall try, but you know I can't afford to rest, not now, not at this point in my plans."
Raven crossed her arms, watching him test his shoulder. "You're lucky it was me who patched you up, not one of the younger recruits. They'd see you wince and the whispers would spread before nightfall."
Eric's jaw tightened. "Let them whisper. Let them see their leader bleed. So long as they also see me stand again."
"That's your pride talking," Raven said, her tone sharper now. "The people who follow you don't need a god who never falters—"
"But they do!" Eric interrupted her as he dressed himself. "They need a leader they can trust to hold up the sky for them, to overcome all their enemies, all threats they face and keep them safe." His voice echoed in the room.
Raven paused, then sighed. "I thought things would get easier… but it only seems to get harder and harder to find a place for ourselves in this world.
Eric shook his head. "The issue isn't finding our place. I know where we belong; we belong at the top, in charge. The challenge is getting there." He was so sure of himself, his voice filled with unwavering confidence.
Raven just sighed again, struggling to accept everything that was happening. The world… it was changing so fast now, and she felt she couldn't keep up.
The world had been confusing enough when Arthuria appeared along with Camelot, but now France was overrun with demons, even if the government liked to claim it was just mutants causing the problems.
Thankfully, they were informed of the truth by none other than her own son, one of the mutants following Charles.
Magic was real, not just a strange mutation, nope, just real, honest to god magic.
And yeah, Gods were real as well, and one of them lost his hammer in Camelot, free for anyone who could pick it up, along with godly powers.
Yeah, the world was getting strange, and she was caught in the middle of it all.
A large part of her wanted to just leave it all behind, to settle down in Albion, live in peace, but she knew… someone had to fight, someone had to be by Eric's side and make sure he didn't do anything too stupid.
Which, honestly, wasn't easy, given his current attempt at conquering Ireland.
"Raven, take a rest, you clearly need it." Eric said, having seen the struggle on her face.
She gave a faint, tired laugh, shaking her head. "And leave you to your own devices? I think not. Someone has to make sure the great Magneto doesn't grind himself to dust before he's crowned."
Eric snorted at her words. "You think me a fool like that, Doom? Crowning himself emperor before being ready? Even now he struggles with armies on his borders, I will make sure none dares such when I am crowned."
"Yet you already proclaim yourself as the king of mutants." Raven reminded him.
"If not me, then who else? Charles? That man can't even be bothered to pick a side, much less lead. Our people need a voice, one to speak for them, to fight for them, and that can only be me, Magneto, master of magmatism." The weight of his conviction pressed on the room like a storm.
"Do we even need a king?" she couldn't help but ask, despite already knowing the answer.
"A king is a sign of the future. Look at Albion; it gains a king, and suddenly the entire kingdom flourishes. Even Gods, or aliens if you will, are ruled by kings, it's the future, and mutants are the future, so naturally we need a king, and that king… is me!"
..
Eric stood inside his office after parting ways with Raven, looking at the maps hung on the wall.
There, the lines were drawn, showing just what he was fighting against and what he was fighting for.
Haven.
A kingdom of mutants, a Haven for his kind. A place where they could be safe, and finally claim their destiny, slowly begin their true path towards greatness. Towards their rightful place as the masters of earth, the next level of humanity.
Still, he knew he wasn't there yet; he was far from that, irritatingly so.
After the UN meeting, he had indeed gained much, as the new voice of Mutantkind; they had come forward to support him. They had rallied with him and swelled his numbers. The Brotherhood was mightier than ever.
Charles and his school could no longer match him; he was forced to sit there and just watch as he united their people and took on the world, no longer able to oppose him.
While most of the mutants following Charles hadn't joined him, most of them also didn't wish to go against him, silently supporting his efforts and feeding him information.
He knew that Charles struggled; he was under ever-increasing pressure by the US government and military to do something. Or even more extreme voices wanted to attack his school, taking out the enemy before they joined his efforts.
And even still, Charles remained blind to the truth, believing that peace could still be reached between humans and mutants…
It hurt Eric to see how blind his own friend had become.
Blind… or perhaps willfully so.
Still, Magneto knew the world would not wait for Charles to find clarity.
Reports crossed his desk daily. Mutants all over the globe were stirring — frightened, hopeful, or desperate. His banner drew them. Not always out of love for him, but because he was the only one who acted.
Combined with the secret help of Arthuria's Veiled Hand, he had been able to raid dozens of secret facilities experimenting on mutants, freeing hundreds of his people.
That allowed his name to echo everywhere, the dark secrets of humanity were exposed, people were furious at their own governments for either doing or allowing such things, and that all bought him time and room to act.
Not that it was easy, he had countless enemies, and they seemed to grow stronger by the day.
Demons, what was he supposed to do about that?
Magic? Gods? Aliens?
Once it had just been humans and mutants… now it felt like he faced so much more.
He understood why others were faltering, why even Raven seemed burdened; he understood. In this ever-changing world, it was getting increasingly difficult to remain steadfast.
To continue to believe in the dream of mutant domination.
But he was certain, mutants were the future of mankind, Homo superior were the future.
With the bigger threats in the wider universe slowly showing themselves, it became increasingly clear that humans alone were unable to face such things. Humans were weak, helpless; only Homo superior would be able to fight back against the universe.
He wouldn't entrust the future to strange gods like Arthuria; he would take the future into his own hands.
Still… he knew he had a long way to go. Despite his swelling numbers, most mutants were weak, hiding under Albion's protection, hardly able to fight against the forces of Earth, much less the universe.
It was clear that something had to be done. The mutations were still too random and often weak; he needed answers, knowledge of how and why this happened.
If he could ensure the mutations in future generations were as strong as his own… only then would they be able to stand proud, not having to hide under Arthuria's hand.
Not having to bow to that clown Loki, who had made every world leader look like a fool.
No, that wasn't the future he wanted; he wanted independence, a world where his people could stand tall and proud!
He suddenly felt the pain in his hand; he had been clenching his fist so hard that his nails dug into his palm, drawing drops of blood.
Tearing his eyes from his bloodied palm, he looked towards a series of pictures on the walls.
Steve Rogers, Captain America, the world's first super soldier. Compared to himself or the more powerful members of the Brotherhood, Eric didn't think he was anything impressive.
Another picture showed a green giant, known as the Hulk.
Another showed a grey giant, locked in combat with the Hulk.
Then, a masked man with a silver arm, the legendary Winter Soldier.
And a fat Russian man in a red suit. Another super soldier.
Humanity had never stopped looking for ways to better themselves. He knew this firsthand, as he, too, had been experimented upon, as humans toyed with powers they failed to understand.
Countless of his kin had died in their quest to unlock their powers, and he didn't want to follow their footsteps, to start killing his people in search of answers.
Instead, he figured, what would happen if he got his hand on the serum that made people like Steve Rogers?
That serum was supposed to improve everything inside someone, make them the best version of themselves.
Wouldn't that also work on the X gene? Perfect the mutation?
If he could do that, he would finally have the power, the army needed to take Ireland, to make Haven a reality, and to start pushing back against humanity, to finally claim the crown.
As ambition swelled in his chest, he glanced at another picture, showing a hammer lying at the foot of a statue.
Mjolnir.
The power of the gods… denied him… but he would find other ways to gain that power, to be worthy, and once he was… he would throw that hammer aside like Arthuria had done. Because he, Magneto, didn't need a hammer to prove that he was worthy!
(End of chapter)
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