~New York Harbor~
This was once the battleground where the Hulk and the Abomination had clashed, reducing the docks to near ruins before being rebuilt anew... The place was now bustling with activity...
A cargo ship emblazoned with the Rand Corporation logo was docked at the port, its containers being loaded one after another. The blare of a ship's horn pierced the night sky, signaling its imminent departure.
Sean sat inside a luxury sedan, driven by none other than James Wesley, the current underworld kingpin of Hell's Kitchen. The window rolled down, and the refined man in the front seat exchanged a brief greeting with the dock supervisor.
"Have them wait a little longer," the helmeted supervisor nodded without a trace of dissatisfaction.
Sean paid no attention to the exchange. His gaze was fixed on the figure beside him, Doctor Doom, shrouded in a deep green cloak, as immovable as a statue forged from cold steel.
Today was the day Victor Von Doom would leave New York and embark on his grand mission.
"You'll have an offshore corporate account. Wesley will handle funding, manpower, arms procurement, medical supplies, infrastructure... everything will be taken care of. But only if you secure legitimacy in Latveria. Those warlords and those aristocratic landowners hoarding territory, sweep them all into the trash heap." Sean spoke casually, his tone laced with cold detachment.
He intended for Victor Von Doom to bring hope to Latveria, that backward, isolated Eastern European nation. But before peace could flourish, bloodshed was inevitable.
"That country's government is rotten to the core. Money can buy politicians; violence can erase warlords. And you, Victor Von Doom, Latveria's once-promising prodigy, are now returning as its savior, as Doctor Doom..."
"...You will rule there, whether from the shadows or by law. In Latveria, Doom decides everything. Even your faintest breath shall be an inviolable decree."
The silent Doom lifted his hood, the cold gleam of his steel mask reflecting an emptiness in his eyes. He nodded.
"As you command... my master."
Prolonged mental conditioning and memory implantation had effectively forged a new personality within Victor Von Doom. In the fractured remnants of his mind, a golden sun loomed overhead, radiating blinding majestic light.
"I will accomplish this. For Latveria, my homeland, I shall bring both ruin and rebirth." His metallic voice resonated through the car.
Sean gave a slight nod...
Victor Von Doom was his first masterpiece. Placing him in Latveria would allow Sean to extend his influence across Europe through that small Eastern European nation.
Just as he had positioned Magneto in Africa, North America remained his stronghold, the foundation of his power. Through Umbrella's meteoric rise, he had consolidated mutantkind, and expanded rapidly through alliances and conquests. But now, growth had stalled.
Sean couldn't recklessly expand his territory. He needed other forces.
Under Doom's rule, Latveria would eventually shed its poverty and backwardness. And Magneto... he would bring a surprise to the isolated nation of Wakanda.
Like pieces on a chessboard, he had placed them beyond his immediate reach, offering just enough support. All that remained was to wait for the fruits of their labor.
As for loyalty and betrayal? Sean never dwelled on it. If the game's rules no longer suited him, he could always flip the table and start anew.
The deep green cloak billowed in the wind as Doctor Doom boarded the cargo ship bound for Latveria. In roughly twelve days, he would set foot on his homeland once more...
...
Meanwhile, at Umbrella's Long Island facility, mutants were preparing for a journey into the unknown...
Clad once more in his crimson and purple robes, Magneto stood atop the spire-like structure. With his arms outstretched, he re-acquainted himself with the earth's magnetic currents.
"The boss said once you've established yourselves in Africa, he'll hand over a person to you... a key to securing Wakanda's vast vibranium resources," Blonsky said, eyeing the silver-haired old man and calculating how long it would take the Abomination to tear him apart.
Magneto ignored Blonsky's predatory gaze, "Wakanda? I've never heard of such a country. Vibranium, however... I know it is exorbitantly priced, on par with gold."
Freed from the inhibitor serum, his confidence and pride as a true powerhouse had returned.
The Brotherhood's leader surveyed the mutants below who had chosen to follow him... Sabretooth, Toad, Mastermind... all present except for Mystique.
Raven's absence had been one of the conditions of his freedom.
A quiet sigh escaped Magneto. A single defeat hadn't extinguished the fire in his heart. But the thought of leaving these lands for the distant and unfamiliar continent of Africa brought a tinge of melancholy...
"From this moment onward, the Brotherhood shall withdraw entirely from North America, relocating gradually to Africa." Magneto glanced at Blonsky... this declaration was meant for the man's employer, "Mutants deserve a future. I will lead our kind to forge a new homeland."
His hands lifted slightly, manipulating the planet's magnetic fields to propel himself into the air. The biting wind whipped through his aged white hair as he gazed down at the land below, nostalgia flickering in his eyes.
Memories surfaced... decades ago, when he had first set foot on this land of freedom and promise.
Back then, he had been a young man consumed by vengeance, not yet known as Magneto. And another young man, still with a full head of dark hair and had yet to be confined to a wheelchair...
They were Erik and Charles...
Newly acquainted, the two young men smiled at each other before the torch-bearing Statue of Liberty, surrounded by vibrant companions and friends.
Fragments of the past flashed before him.
Magneto descended before the Brotherhood, casting one last glance at the towering Umbrella facility with a self-deprecating smile on his lips.
"My brothers and sisters... the road ahead may be fraught with hardship. But at least we will no longer repeat the tragedies of the past. The endless infighting and attrition end here. With our own hands... we shall build a home of our own." His purple cape fluttered as the regal pride of a king returned to his expression.
With a sweep of his arm, he strode forward, leading the Brotherhood into the darkness...
....
At that same moment, in Westchester, Professor Xavier removed the Cerebro helmet and sat motionless in the silent circular chamber, the sublevel scanning room where the machine was housed...
"Goodbye, Erik," the bald old man murmured after a long silence.
For a lifelong dreamer who had sought to create a homeland for mutants, this might not be a bad outcome. At least the next generation wouldn't inherit the same fate of living in hardship and hiding.
The Professor slowly wheeled himself out as the door sealed shut behind him.
The old era had ended. No more strife, no more division among mutants.
The fruits of peace and a new homeland would one day be realized...