Stark Tower
Outside the shimmering energy shield protecting Stark Tower, five luminous curtains hung silently in the air. They hadn't been there a moment ago, but now they hovered ominously side by side—each projecting a live feed from one of five major battlefields.
The scenes unfolding in each window were nothing short of extraordinary.
"Mutants… armies?!"
Loki's expression twisted with fury. His narrowed eyes bore into the images, his face darkening as realization sank in. In every city shown—New York, Tokyo, Sydney, Paris, and São Paulo—hidden Mutants had revealed themselves, rising from the shadows and standing shoulder to shoulder with the X-Men.
It wasn't just a handful. There were dozens, hundreds.
And they weren't random civilians.
They were trained. They were armed. And they were fighting back.
He watched, dumbfounded, as Storm summoned down colossal bolts of lightning, tearing through waves of Chitauri like paper. A roar of thunder echoed in the background of the stream as another Leviathan crumbled under her wrath.
Then his eyes turned to the Australian battlefield. His frown deepened.
Cyclops—typically the understated tactician of the X-Men—now moved like a battlefield god. Dressed in a sleek green suit with silver-trimmed glasses, he fired precise beams of ruby-red energy from his eyes. But these weren't ordinary blasts. The visor seemed to shift between several modes.
In one, the laser thinned to an ultra-fine thread, slicing through Chitauri armor like it was butter.
In another, it widened into a colossal pillar, sheer force bulldozing alien beasts into oblivion.
But the most unsettling was the short-frequency burst: the beam fragmented into a hail of piercing red lines, each acting like a bullet. Every sweep of his head meant rows of Chitauri soldiers were annihilated.
Loki's stomach twisted.
Even the indestructible hide of the Leviathans stood no chance against these blasts.
And what's more—the new battle suit Cyclops wore wasn't just for show. It was a blend of technology and sorcery, increasing his energy efficiency and providing heavy defense. He could last longer. Move faster. Hit harder.
That red-and-green Mutant had become a harvester of war.
Then there was Thunderbird, whose armor gleamed darker than the others—laced with extra Vibranium. Every punch he threw, every block he raised, echoed like thunder. His copper-toned skin and iron-boned strength had been maximized to terrifying effect.
And backing him? Meimeng and the Cuckoo Sisters.
Though lacking close-combat prowess, they wielded retro-style magical rifles etched with complex runes. Even without raw muscle, they laid down devastating cover fire with grim precision.
It was hard to believe—this was a newly formed X-Men unit?
They already operated like a veteran strike team.
And elsewhere—chaos reigned.
On the Tokyo battlefield, Kraken and Mystique's teams fought shoulder to shoulder. Their blue uniforms shimmered beneath neon city lights as they engaged Chitauri in savage combat.
In São Paulo, Gambit's squad wore vivid purple. Their powers surged, augmented by magical gear. Gambit himself launched an enchanted staff like a javelin, the weapon detonating in midair repeatedly—each blast taking out clusters of invaders.
Worse yet, the staff boomeranged back into his hand after every throw—guided by a self-seeking rune.
Was this really a Mutant?
Or had a warrior god from Asgard joined the battle?
Even Loki had to admit—he hadn't seen this coming.
"I've seen the X-Men fight before," he muttered, eyes glued to the screens. "They were never this powerful…"
Then, turning toward Joseph, he asked in a hushed, accusatory tone, "The suits… you made them, didn't you? You, the so-called Earth magician… This is your doing?!"
There was disbelief in his voice, and a tremor of something more.
Fear.
Joseph simply nodded, a smug grin on his lips. "The new Xavier's School has prioritized merging super-ability with science and magic. We've made some breakthroughs."
The seven X-Men teams had been rebuilt—Phoenix, Wolverine, Cyclops, and others leading their respective squads. Each suit they wore was tailored by Joseph himself, designed to synergize with their specific mutant abilities.
Though the embedded magic was only third-tier, it didn't need to be higher.
Because combined with mutant powers, the result was overwhelming.
The battlefield had become their proving ground.
The goal? Inspire a new generation of mutants to pursue this fusion of science, technology, and mysticism.
The future of Earth's tech tree was unfolding in real time.
A new branch had already begun to bloom:
Super Technology.
"You really are... dangerous," Loki said, his tone still calm—but with a sharp edge now. "You used the threat of my invasion to force hidden mutants out of the shadows. Clever."
Joseph offered a modest shrug. "Earth has always had mutants. And mutants have always been pushed around. That ends today."
"So what?!" Loki suddenly bellowed, stepping forward with his voice echoing through the tower. "So what if a few thousand mutants came out of hiding?! You think that matters?! My army numbers in the tens of thousands!"
He gestured toward the wormhole overhead.
As if on cue, it rippled again—and new waves of Chitauri and Leviathan monsters surged through, blotting out the sky. The battlefield was drowning in enemies.
"A few battalions of mutants won't change anything!" he spat. "They're disorganized. Improvised. Rabble! You think they'll hold? You think this will make a difference?!"
As the sky darkened with the arrival of more alien invaders, Loki's posture regained its arrogant height.
"And let's not forget," he continued, grinning now, "S.H.I.E.L.D. is still under my control. The Avengers are weak, scattered. But even their pathetic resistance will be enough to give you and your mutants trouble."
"Face it, Joseph," he said, relishing the words. "The advantage is still mine."
Tony Stark coughed slightly, leaning on a console nearby. But unlike before, he wasn't worried. His smirk was back.
"Hey, Joseph," he said, gesturing lazily. "Is the advantage still his?"
Joseph chuckled, folding his arms. "Hardly."
He turned to Loki again.
"Charles Xavier's psychic abilities may be ineffective against alien minds," he said, "but who said we were only targeting aliens?"
He nodded at Loki's gleaming scepter.
"The humans you've manipulated with that trinket? They're not beyond our reach."
Loki's grin faltered.
"You really don't understand us Mutants, do you?" Joseph said softly, stepping closer. "You have an army…"
He paused, his smile deepening.
"…but how do you know I don't?"
Loki's face changed instantly. The color drained from his cheeks. His eyes darted back to the glowing curtains, where each battlefield pulsed with resistance and fire.
Behind every X-Men squad now stood hundreds more mutants. Ordinary people. Scientists. Teachers. Artists.
Everyday individuals who had hidden their power in fear—and were now rising.
The Red Fang Society's spies had confirmed this weeks ago. Across the world, Joseph's plan was working. Empowered Mutants were rising not just as warriors, but as engineers, tacticians, and innovators.
This wasn't just a defense.
It was a revolution.
Loki's fingers clenched tighter around the scepter. He felt the tide shift—not in numbers alone, but in something deeper.
Resolve.
Joseph's calm voice echoed one last time in the room.
"You started this war thinking Earth was fractured and weak. But Earth… always finds a way to surprise you."
Then, to Tony, he added with a smirk, "Ready to flip the board?"
Tony cracked his knuckles. "Born ready."
The battle wasn't over.
But the momentum had changed.
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