Chapter 86: Fist Wind Splits the Sea, Magneto Buys a Standing Ticket to Escape Overnight
The Atlantic Ocean water was very cold.
When Eric Lehnsherr crashed into the water surface, the splashes stirred up flew a hundred meters high.
He tumbled in the seawater, the salty liquid pouring down his nasal cavity into his lungs, triggering a burning fit of coughing.
The alloy armor on his chest, which claimed to be able to withstand main battle tank shelling, was deeply depressed at this moment.
That fist print was very clear.
One could even see the textures left by Aaron's knuckles.
"Cough cough... Damn it."
Eric floated up from the bottom of the water and wiped the water stains on his face.
His silver-white hair stuck wetly to his forehead, and his originally majestic deep purple cape was like a heavy rag.
His fingers were trembling slightly, not because of the cold, but because of the aftershocks brought by that punch just now.
His bones were groaning, and his internal organs felt like they had been wrung through a front-loading washing machine.
"What kind of monster is this..."
Eric gritted his teeth, the air in his lungs not yet evenly replenished.
He hovered above the sea surface, and the seawater beneath his feet began to boil violently.
The shipwreck parts, abandoned steel cables, and even tiny iron ore sands that had been silent under the deep sea for decades felt the summons of the monarch at this moment.
Magnetic field fully opened.
The sea area of several kilometers in radius seemed to tremble under his will.
"I won't... admit defeat just like this."
He let out a roar, his voice scattering across the empty sea surface, instantly swallowed by the wind and waves.
He needed metal.
A large amount of metal.
His fingers jerked upward.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Several container cargo ship wrecks weighing thousands of tons were forcibly dragged out of the seabed by an invisible giant hand.
The rusty steel cut through the water surface, stirring up large patches of silt and seaweed.
The magnetic field lines around Eric almost materialized into visible purplish-black ripples.
These steels converged and compressed above his head, gradually forming a huge heavy metal sword hundreds of meters long.
As long as a magnetic field existed in this World, he was invincible.
This was the creed that he had stood undefeated in the Mutant World for decades.
However, a shadow blocked the moonlight.
Aaron stood like this in the Void Realm.
He didn't rely on magnetism or wind to maintain his figure like Magneto.
He just stood there, as if stepping on an invisible transparent step.
The collar of his light gray shirt was blown open by a button by the sea breeze.
In his right hand, he was still holding the crumpled nail clipper packaging paper.
"Your commotion here is too big, it affects my view of the sea."
Aaron lowered his eyes, his gaze sweeping over those floating shipwreck wrecks.
He didn't look angry, and even looked a bit sleepy.
This perfunctory attitude made Eric feel even more humiliated than that punch just now.
"Aaron Parker! You simply don't understand what kind of power you are facing!"
Eric roared, pushing his arms forward fiercely.
That heavy sword compressed from thousands of tons of scrap iron, carrying the momentum to cut an aircraft carrier, slashed toward Aaron with a bang.
The air was pushed away by the heavy sword, making a shrill roaring sound.
Aaron sighed.
The packaging paper in his right hand drifted away with the wind and fell into the sea.
He didn't look at that heavy sword.
He just raised his right hand and clenched his five fingers again.
This time, he didn't teleport in front of Eric.
He just threw a punch lightly at the air in front of him.
Dong——!
The sound wasn't loud, even somewhat muffled.
But at the point where the fist wind fell, the air was instantly compressed to the extreme.
A circle of pale white shockwave ripples, centered on Aaron's fist, exploded in a fan shape.
That was a power so pure that it had no Impurities.
No magnetic field, no magic, no reality modification.
Just kinetic energy burst in the physical sense.
The moment that huge heavy metal sword touched this fist wind, it was like snow under the sun.
Without any obstruction, nor the expected metal collision sound.
Thousands of tons of steel instantly disintegrated, vaporized, and shattered.
The remaining metal fragments were swept by the fist wind, shooting backward, drawing countless glowing red streams of light in the air.
"No... This is impossible..."
Eric's eyes split open in anger.
He felt that his proud magnetic field defense was as thin as a wet piece of toilet paper in front of that fist wind.
The fist wind didn't stop.
It plowed a visible vacuum channel in the atmosphere.
Then, it slammed heavily into the sea surface below.
Splash——!
At that moment, the Atlantic Ocean seemed to be cut open right from the center by a deity's long knife.
The seawater parted.
Literally, parted.
It was a huge chasm two thousand meters wide and hundreds of meters deep.
The force of this punch directly pierced through the deep sea, exposing all the black silt at the very bottom and the reefs that had been silent for ten thousand years.
The originally calm seabed was plowed into a terrifying gully, and countless deep-sea fish frantically flopped in the dried-up silt pits.
The seawater was squeezed to both sides by huge pressure, forming two walls of water hundreds of meters high.
The tops of the water walls were hung with white foam, revealing an eerie chill under the moonlight.
At that instant, in the center of the entire Atlantic Ocean, a water-free vacuum restricted area with a diameter of several kilometers appeared.
Eric stood at the edge of that water wall.
Due to gravity distortion and a sudden drop in air pressure, his cape was torn to pieces.
He stared blankly at the exposed seabed below.
He saw that bottomless fist mark spanning a distance of several kilometers, like a scar that could never heal.
His brain crashed at that moment.
This had already exceeded his scope of understanding.
In his cognition, only crustal movement or meteorite impact could cause this effect.
And now, this teenager just waved his hand.
"Is this... power?"
Eric murmured, his voice trembling beyond recognition.
He lowered his head and looked at his hands that controlled the magnetic field.
Those hands had once torn apart submarines and moved stadiums.
But now, he found that his ability in front of this fist wind was simply like plastic building blocks played by a child.
This was not wining over at all.
This was a life of one dimension looking down on the dust of another dimension.
What Mutant emperor, what survival of the fittest.
In front of the power to split the sea with one punch, all ambitions became a joke.
"Next time you want to sell insurance, remember to use the front door, don't make it so wet on the sea."
Aaron turned around and didn't look at him again.
The red teleportation array opened again in the Void Realm, Aaron stepped into it, and the space behind him instantly closed.
The seawater began to rush back in.
The two walls of water hundreds of meters high lost the support of pressure, making a roaring sound like a landslide and earth-splitting.
Huge waves collided.
The surface of the Atlantic Ocean was like being boiled, white foam rolling, quickly smoothing out all traces of just now.
Eric was sucked into a huge whirlpool.
He drifted with the tide in the cold seawater, no longer having his previous majesty.
Like a drowned dog, he desperately grabbed a floating piece of wood.
New York shore.
Storm Ororo stood dazed on the terrace, the blue light in her eyes completely extinguished.
Jean Grey covered her mouth, sweat beads on her forehead sliding into his eyes, but she didn't dare to wipe them.
Just now, through the mental link, they witnessed the whole process of that punch.
That was no longer danger.
That was despair.
On the distant sea surface.
Relying on magnetism, Eric finally steadied his figure with tremors.
He didn't return to the building, nor did he go to find his subordinates.
He didn't even have the courage to take a look at that neon-flashing building in Manhattan.
He turned around, and the magnetic field violently pushed him to escape into the distance.
His movements were fast, even kicking up a string of fine splashes.
Lao Wan had never run so fast in his life.
What Brotherhood, what rule humanity.
Right now he just wanted to go back to his dilapidated submarine and weld all the metal doors shut.
As long as he closed his eyes, that two-thousand-meter-wide trench would sway in his mind.
That was a miracle, and also a warning.
As Eric Lehnsherr ran, he frantically cursed the intelligence officer who gave him Aaron's data in his heart.
The fuck is this called "a young man with huge potential"?
This is clearly a World-destroying god wearing human skin.
He even had an absurd thought:
Go back to his hometown, melt the metal throne engraved with the Mutant leader's logo.
Then find an uninhabited deserted island and peacefully spend the rest of his life.
The night wind of New York was still very cold.
Magneto's figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon, and finally disappeared into the last trace of darkness before dawn.
He didn't even bring luggage, nor did he look back at his loyal subordinates who were still waiting for him on the terrace.
He ran.
He ran without looking back.
As if afraid that he would be a second too slow, that teenager drinking coffee in the Void Realm would throw another punch at him.
On the top floor of Stark Tower, in the living room originally ravaged into ruins by the magnetic field.
Red Queen's projection was taking inventory of the losses.
Gwen squatted beside the sofa, helping Wanda wipe away a drop of cola splashed on her cheek just now.
Aaron sat back in the undamaged leather single seat, his fingertips gently tapping on the armrest.
"Why hasn't Pietro returned yet?"
Aaron raised his head and asked.
"He is queuing at the entrance of the shopping mall on Fifth Avenue, saying that the latest Italian coffee machine is sold out."
Red Queen replied, "He is trying to use his speed to 'discuss' with the clerk whether he can cut in line."
Aaron yawned.
He glanced at the group of X-Men still cowering in the corner of the terrace.
Jean Grey shivered, subconsciously shrinking behind Storm.
At this moment, Eric, who had escaped a hundred miles away,
Was staring at the rising and falling waves on the sea surface, with only one thought in his heart:
In this life, he would never come to New York again.
Even the Mutant throne, he wanted to throw it into the Atlantic Ocean overnight.
Chapter 87: Intercepting Polaris Lorna, the Rebellious Girl's Adoration
The sound of the Atlantic Ocean waves had not yet faded.
On the surface of the sea, the slender wake kicked up by Magneto as he fled was being rapidly smoothed away by the violent surges.
The remaining force of that punch was still reverberating deep in the sea, occasionally turning up a few deep-sea fish with shattered internal organs, their pale bellies floating dead on the water's surface.
On the edge of the dilapidated terrace at the top of Stark Tower.
Aaron stood beside that pile of twisted I-beams.
The wind poured into the living room with its huge hole, blowing Wanda's hair into a messy flutter.
"The old man ran pretty fast, even dropped one of his shoes."
Aaron looked down at his feet.
Lying there was a dark red metal boot, its toe deformed by a magnetic field like a discarded iron can.
"Master."
Red Queen's projection flickered on the shattered white jade floor tiles.
"Detected that Magneto's biological wave is rapidly moving away from Manhattan, expected to enter international waters in three minutes."
"But according to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cross-intelligence, the Brotherhood omitted an important member when evacuating the Newark Base."
Aaron raised an eyebrow.
He rummaged a lollipop out of his pocket, tore open the wrapper, and popped the lychee-flavored candy ball into his mouth.
"Omitted? Lao Wan is getting old, is his memory really that bad?"
A holographic screen unfurled in the air.
That was a top-secret Military experimental record, stamped with a huge purple S logo on the cover.
That was the code name of Trask Industries.
In the image, a girl was locked inside a cylindrical transparent glass tank.
She wore oversized prison garb, stepping barefoot on the cold drainage grate.
Most striking was that head of dark green long hair.
Clinging wetly to her cheeks, it looked like a clump of seaweed soaked in sewage.
"Lorna Dane, code name: Polaris."
Red Queen's voice was mechanical and steady.
"Magneto's biological daughter. Captured two hours ago at a secret stronghold in southern Manhattan."
"Currently imprisoned in the Mutant Special Research Center under General Ross, coordinates: thirty meters beneath Hells Kitchen."
Aaron stared at the girl in the screen.
Lorna was facing the camera directly.
Even through the screen, Aaron could see that within her emerald eyes.
Was entirely the kind of hostility that could set the Worldon fire.
She was mouthing words at the researchers outside the screen, and from the shape of her mouth, she was greeting the other party's entire family.
"I'm taking beatings in the front, and my daughter is locked up in the back."
Aaron bit down on the candy ball with a crunch.
"This family doesn't have very good luck."
He turned his head, glanced at Felicia who was looking for a broom in the ruins, and then looked at Gwen, who was worrying over the mess all over the floor.
"I'm going to go fetch a bottle opener."
Aaron replied casually.
A red halo bloomed beneath his feet.
There was no roaring of spatial fluctuations, only a silence like being wiped away by an eraser.
Hells Kitchen, Clinton District.
Beneath a tin warehouse hanging a sign that read "Scrap Can Processing Factory".
Here the air was as cold as frost, mixed with a strong smell of hydrogen fluoride and disinfectant.
The corridor walls were coated with lead to isolate the overflow of electromagnetic waves.
At the center of the laboratory, Lorna on the electric chair was twitching violently.
Two thick copper electrodes were pressed against her temples, blue sparks constantly leaping.
Zila—
The harsh sound of current flowing through skin and flesh.
"Increase the current."
A researcher wearing a white lab coat pushed up his thick-rimmed glasses, his finger pressing on the transformer knob.
"Her magnetic field stress is still resisting; we need to break her will."
A low roar came from Lorna's throat.
She clenched her teeth, biting her lips until they were torn, fresh blood trickling down her chin onto the prison uniform on her chest.
"If you have the guts... kill me..."
Her eyes stared wide, her retina covered entirely in red blood spots caused by the high-voltage electricity.
"When I get out... I'm going to twist all your heads off and make them into... into canned food..."
"Your father has already abandoned you, Lorna."
The researcher sneered and flicked the switch up another notch.
"In Manhattan, his guts were shattered by that young man named Aaron, and now he's drilling into the sea like a stray dog."
Lorna's movements stiffened abruptly.
Magnetic field induction told her that the man in the white lab coat was not lying.
That grand magnetic field fluctuation, which had always been faint and yet shared by Bloodline, was indeed rapidly receding.
Completely disappearing in the direction of the Atlantic Ocean.
Disappointment?
No, it was more of a habitual disdain.
In that man's eyes, there was only his racial righteousness; familial affection was to him merely an occasional byproduct when passing by.
Just at this moment.
The lead-gold gate of the laboratory, fifty centimeters thick and claimed to be able to withstand bunker-busters, suddenly emitted a muffled thud.
Boom!
There was no fire, no flying debris.
That door, weighing several tons, was as if pressed casually by a transparent giant with a single palm strike.
The entire door panel directly detached from its hinges, bent inward at a ninety-degree angle, and flew more than a dozen meters away.
With a clatter, it smashed three expensive mass spectrometers, kicking up a floor of mercury and parts.
The alarm had not yet had time to sound.
A young man wearing a gray shirt stepped on the door panel and entered the laboratory.
Aaron with his hands in his pockets, his right foot stepping on the glass shards on the floor, making a delicate and crisp sound.
He didn't even look at the guards who raised their rifles.
"Why do Ross's people always like this kind of decor style?"
Aaron curled his lip, looking at the wires in the laboratory.
"Pipes everywhere, screens everywhere, not a single one of them works."
"Fire!"
The researcher screamed, shrinking his entire body under the console.
Datadata!
The special armor-piercing bullets formed a line of fire in the narrow laboratory.
But within half a meter of approaching Aaron.
All the bullets seemed to crash into an invisible, transparent wall as sticky as syrup.
The bullet tips stopped in mid-air, their tails steaming, and then dropped onto the floor one by one with a clinking sound.
Aaron raised his hand, his fingertips gently swiping toward the guards.
The red Chaos Magic was like a slender laser beam.
Sweeping past.
Those rifles, body armor, and even the guards' helmets.
Metamorphosed in an instant.
They were no longer hard metal, but turned into a pile of soft, sweet-smelling cotton candy.
The guards were stunned, holding a few pink strips in their hands with comical expressions.
Aaron walked up to the electric chair.
The two copper poles were still frantically pouring current into Lorna's head.
He reached out and grabbed the high-voltage copper pipe directly.
Zila!
The current, enough to electrocute an elephant into charcoal, surged in through his palm.
Aaron didn't even tremble a single hair.
With force in his five fingers, he snapped it casually.
Snap.
The alloy Base was snapped off like a crisp biscuit.
Those complex locks on Lorna's body all melted into light red liquid after the red light from Aaron's fingertips swept across them.
Lorna went limp all over, collapsing toward the ground.
Aaron reached out and grabbed her collar, like holding a wild pigeon that had just taken a bath and wasn't dry yet.
"You are Lorna?"
Aaron stared at her.
Viewed up close, this girl's gaze was truly wild enough.
Even with her body drained of strength and still trembling, those green eyes still spelled out "Kill you".
Lorna panted heavily, sweat sliding into her mouth, tasting bitterly awful.
She stared at Aaron's excessively young face.
The electromagnetic induction in her brain told her that the man in front of her was not human at all.
There were no electronic pulses inside his body.
He was a silent, heavy nuclear reactor capable of crushing the Earth to pieces at any moment.
"You... are the one who beat up that old guy?"
Lorna's voice was intermittent, yet carried a hint of morbid excitement.
"You mean Magneto?"
Aaron let go of his hand, letting her sit leaning against the console.
"He ran too fast, even lost his clothes."
Lorna suddenly laughed.
She laughed wildly, her chest spasming with sharp pain due to the violent shaking.
"Serves him right... His self-righteous dream of being an emperor has finally woken up."
She raised her head, her gaze sweeping over the cotton candy and scrapped instruments on the floor.
Finally locking tightly onto Aaron.
For a girl who grew up in ruins, laboratories, and betrayal.
Whatever Bloodline ties, whatever justice, were all bullshit.
Only power mattered.
That kind of ultimate and tyrannical power that could make Magneto flee in panic and casually modify reality.
That was her god.
Lorna struggled, her fingertips digging into the gaps of the floor tiles.
Dragging her legs, which were somewhat numb from electricity, she inched her way step by step to Aaron's feet.
She reached out her slender hands, which were nevertheless covered in needle-mark scars.
Grasping tightly onto the hem of Aaron's light gray shirt.
Her nails turned white from exertion, grabbing several deep wrinkles.
"Take me away..."
Lorna raised her face, her green pupils lacking the previous desire for death.
There was only a crazy reconstruction akin to the collapse of faith.
That adoration, burning to the absolute extreme, was almost burning out through her gaze.
"As long as you take me away."
Lorna's voice lowered, sounding like some sort of devout vow.
"Whether it's to be a secretary or a foot-washing maid..."
"As long as you let me stay, I'll do whatever you want."
She pressed her face against the side of Aaron's leather boots.
Feeling the absolute aura emanating from that man, sufficient to suppress the entire dimension.
Aaron looked down at this little green-haired lunatic.
He thought of the sofa at home that was almost getting crowded, and then looked at Lorna's eyes filled with adoration.
"Washing feet won't be necessary."
Aaron patted her rough long hair, his tone still casual.
"My home happens to lack someone who can open bottle caps."
Lorna clenched that piece of clothing tightly.
As if grasping the only driftwood of her life.
Chapter 88 Professor X attempts to read memories, getting blown up by a multivariate information stream.
Manhattan penthouse.
The red light of the teleportation array receded like a tide.
Lorna Dane still tightly grasped the hem of Aaron's shirt.
Her fingertips turned white from the force.
Her nails pinched several deep, stiff creases into the expensive gray fabric.
She stepped barefoot on the soft, long-pile carpet.
The tiny fibers in the carpet passed between her toe gaps.
This warm feeling made her, a little madwoman who had stayed in the cold laboratory for too long, a bit uneasy.
She raised her head, scanning the somewhat excessively luxurious living room.
"Aaron, the 'bottle opener' you brought back has quite a personalized hair color."
Gwen sat by the bar counter, shaking a freshly made glass of juice in her hand.
She pointed at Lorna's damp, dark green hair, her gaze spinning across the other person's face.
Lorna ignored it.
Like a stray cat protecting its food, she turned sideways, vaguely blocking between Aaron and Gwen.
Her emerald eyes revealed a heavy trace of vigilance and morbid fanaticism.
"Her name is Lorna."
Aaron slumped into the sofa, sinking into the deepest part of the goose-down cushions.
He spat the lollipop stick from his mouth into the trash can.
"The baggage Magneto dropped, I just happened to pick it back up."
Wanda was walking out holding a plate of freshly cut watermelon.
The moment she saw Lorna, the silver fork in Wanda's hand emitted a faint hum.
That was the spontaneous induction of magnetic fields and Chaos Magic in the air.
Wanda stared at Lorna, a flash of abnormality passing through her red pupils.
This homologous sense within her Bloodline made her tighten her knuckles holding the tray.
Aaron ignored the undercurrents among the girls.
He rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
The hustle and bustle of New York was isolated outside by bulletproof glass, and this quietness made him very satisfied.
...
At the same time.
Westchester County, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
Inside a spherical building buried fifty meters underground.
The cold silver coating reflected the faint indicator light.
Charles Xavier sat in a wheelchair.
He wore a heavy silver Cerebro helmet.
Hundreds of tiny copper wires hung down along the edge of the helmet, connecting to the surrounding massive server array.
"Charles, are you sure you want to do this?"
Hank stood in front of the control console, his palm pressed on that red start button.
His long blue fur bristled slightly with tension.
"That is that young man in Manhattan. The satellite clearly captured what Magneto looked like fleeing on the Atlantic Ocean just now."
"I must confirm his intentions, Hank."
Charles's voice was very deep, carrying an unquestionable exhaustion.
"He took Lorna away. The power he demonstrated has already exceeded the logic of this World."
"If we don't figure out whether he is a god or a demon, Mutants will have trouble sleeping and eating."
Charles took a deep breath, his fingers lightly tapping on his temples.
"Start it."
Hank gritted his teeth and pressed the switch.
Boom——
A huge humming sound echoed in the spherical room.
A deep blue light current poured into Charles's brain along the wires.
At this instant, his consciousness was magnified ten thousand times, transforming into countless invisible tentacles.
Crossing forests, crossing rivers, heading straight for the center of Manhattan.
In Charles's psychic World, New York was a forest composed of countless bright spots.
Each bright spot represented a person's thought.
Most bright spots were as weak as fireflies, and occasionally a few were as bright as light bulbs.
But now.
At the top floor of Stark Tower.
Charles "saw" a Sun.
No, that was not the Sun.
That was a pitch-black abyss exuding endless oppression.
All psychic bright spots would be ruthlessly swallowed when approaching that area.
"Found it."
Charles controlled the psychic tentacles, cautiously probing toward that abyss.
He had no malicious intent, he just wanted to gently push aside the fog and peek at the past of that youth.
The very moment his spiritual touch touched the outer shell of Aaron's consciousness.
Inside Aaron's apartment.
Aaron's eyelids twitched slightly.
Deep in his mind, the [Multiverse-level Spiritual Immunity Aura] drawn from the top-grade blind box automatically activated.
The aura did not issue an alarm.
It was just like a lion bitten by a mosquito, turning over absentmindedly.
Charles's consciousness was instantly dragged into Aaron's spiritual sea.
"Th... What is this?"
Charles's mind was screaming.
He originally thought he would see childhood, laboratories, and the sources of those superpowers.
But what he saw was collapse.
Frame after frame seemed jammed into trillions of fast-forwards within a second.
He saw countless Earths.
In one World, the Sun turned into a black skeleton, devouring planets.
In another World, galaxies were casually crushed like glass beads by a pair of large hands.
He heard the wailing of hundreds of millions of civilizations in that last second before destruction.
Those pieces of information were no longer pictures.
They were weight.
Every piece of information was like a Mount Himalayas, smashing directly onto Charles's synapses.
The collapse of countless parallel space-times, the afterglow of the Big Bang, the whispers of dimensional demon gods.
This multivariate-level spiritual torrent was simply not something a three-dimensional creature's brain could bear.
In front of those pictures, Charles's spiritual body was as thin as a piece of straw paper thrown into a steel-making furnace.
"No... Stop... Stop quickly!"
Charles roared in the depths of his Soul, his Soul beginning to tear at this moment.
Real World.
Inside the Cerebro chamber, red warning lights flashed frantically.
"Charles!"
Hank found in horror that Charles's eyeballs suddenly rolled upward.
A large number of bloodshots quickly spread across the white eyeballs, and finally burst directly.
Bright red liquid rolled down in large drops along Charles's eye corners, nostrils, and even cochlea.
Due to severe spasms, Charles's body twisted into a weird arc in the wheelchair.
His fingers tightly clutched the armrests of the wheelchair.
Creak.
The hard wooden armrests were gouged out with a few finger gaps by him, and wood chips pierced into his fingernails.
"Sizzle! Sizzle!"
The surrounding server arrays began to emit pungent blue smoke.
The originally sturdy coolant glass tubes shattered with a bang because they couldn't withstand the instantly erupted information pressure.
Green liquid spilled all over the ground.
Rumble——!
The central Cerebro experienced a violent explosion.
Electric sparks scampered around like snakes.
The helmet on Charles's head was blown off by half, exposing the charred circuits inside.
"Charles!"
Hank rushed over and caught Charles, who tumbled down from the wheelchair.
At this time, Charles's complexion was as pale as paper, and the corners of his mouth were full of pink blood foam.
His breathing was so weak that it was almost imperceptible.
...
Manhattan apartment.
Aaron opened his eyes and rubbed his temples with some confusion.
"Did something hit us just now?"
"Master, a high-frequency psychic infiltration was intercepted just now."
Red Queen's voice rang in his ear, "The source is Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."
"However, after contacting your passive defense aura, due to parsing failure, the opponent generated a violent information feedback."
Aaron lay back down and waved his hand indifferently.
"Want to peek at me sleeping? That old man is too curious."
Lorna watched him from the side, although she didn't know what happened.
But she could feel that at that exact moment, the kind of Qi on Aaron's body that made her want to kneel down
became a bit richer.
...
Three hours later.
Xavier School, infirmary.
Charles lay in a hospital bed, with an oxygen tube still inserted in his nostrils.
His hands trembled violently, and he couldn't even hold a cup of warm water handed over by Hank.
His eyes were unfocused, as if his Soul had been completely shattered.
"Charles, how do you feel?"
Hank's voice was trembling.
That was the first time he saw this kind of... near-collapse fear on Charles's face.
Charles did not speak.
He tremblingly stretched out his hand and grabbed a ballpoint pen placed at the head of the bed.
Hank hurriedly handed over a medical record book.
Charles's knuckles holding the pen turned white.
He scribbled on the paper.
Because his hand shook severely, the pen tip poked several holes in the paper.
A line of crooked handwriting stained with light red fingerprints appeared on the paper:
[Forbid all X-Men from approaching Manhattan.]
[He is a god... and also the end point that buries all Universes.]
[Do not provoke him... absolutely do not.]
Finishing the last stroke.
Charles seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and the pen dropped onto the floor.
He curled up under the sheets, his teeth constantly colliding.
Creak. Creak.
The multivariate collapse seen in that second
had become a nightmare he could never get rid of in his eternal life.
The infirmary was dead silent.
Hank looked at the paper full of holes, cold sweat sliding all the way from his spine down to his heels.
Outside the window, the moonlight was cold and clear.
That towering skyscraper in Manhattan appeared even more mysterious in the night.
Like a silent behemoth waiting to harvest everything.
Chapter 89 Charles: "Do not provoke him, he is not in the Mutant destiny."
Westchester County, Xavier Genius Youth School.
The old elm tree outside the window was rustled loudly by the night wind.
Dead leaves hit the glass of the infirmary, making a rustling sound.
On the hospital bed, Charles was covered with thick gauze.
Pale red blood had already soaked through the outermost layer of cotton fabric.
His hands trembled violently under the bedsheets, scratching the smooth fabric into wrinkles.
Jean Grey stood by the bed.
Her long hair fluttered without wind, floating strand by strand in the air.
Due to extreme anger, tiny orange-red flames danced deep within her pupils.
The surrounding temperature was rising.
The humidifier in the corner let out a creak, its outer shell slightly deformed by the heat wave.
"Hank, go prepare the fighter jet."
Jean's voice was kept very low, as if hidden razor blades were in her throat.
"He hurt the Professor like this, I have to go get an explanation."
Hank McCoy crouched in the corner.
The blue beast fur on his body stood on end due to anxiety.
He lowered his head to clean up the shattered electronic parts all over the floor, ignoring the fingers cut by the glass.
"Jean, calm down."
Hank replied in a muffled voice.
"The cerebral wave enhancer exploded due to overload, not an active attack by the other party."
"What's the difference?"
Jean turned around abruptly.
A cluster of gold-red energy flashed across her fingertips, directly burning the metal tray beside her into crimson liquid.
"He destroyed the Professor's mental sea!"
"Stop... Jean."
On the hospital bed, Charles suddenly spoke.
His voice was extremely hoarse, like two dry pieces of wood rubbing against each other.
His hand suddenly stretched out from under the bedsheet and accurately grabbed Jean's wrist.
Charles's fingernails pinched deeply into Jean's skin.
He used great force, his knuckles turning a pale cyan due to excessive overdraft.
"Don't go... absolutely do not go."
"Professor?"
Jean froze.
She could feel the cold sweat coming from Charles's palm, as well as the bone-deep tremor.
This kind of fear, she had never seen on Charles.
Even when facing Magneto at his most crazy, Charles had never trembled like this.
"Listen."
Charles propped up his upper body, his eyeballs rolling uneasily under the gauze.
"What I saw was not a person... That is a black hole."
"He is not in any of our known destinies."
Charles panted heavily, a trace of dark red blood flowing from his nostrils.
He let out Jean's hand and grabbed weakly in the air, as if trying to catch those dissipating images.
"Magneto, X-Men, even those Sentinels."
"On the destiny line of this World, we are all dancing."
"But he... he is not even an audience member."
Charles swallowed a bloody saliva with difficulty.
"He is the observer who can casually cut off the movie film and throw it into the Fire."
"He just needs a thought, and we so-called 'evolvers' will have even the traces of our existence wiped out."
Charles stared fixedly at the Void Realm.
"Pass my order... to all Mutant factions."
"Whether it is the Brotherhood or underground organizations."
"List him as a red restricted zone. Do not approach, do not peep, and even less attempt to win him over."
He collapsed back onto the pillow, his chest heaving violently.
"He is not our enemy, but if you go provoke him, he is the end of the World."
An hour later.
A signal spread through secondary telepathy exploded in the North American Mutant circle.
Those Mutants hiding in the sewers and wandering the streets simultaneously felt a stern warning.
Aaron Parker.
This name was permanently engraved at the top of the Mutant "death list".
But this list was not used for hunting, but for seeking refuge.
...
Manhattan, penthouse apartment.
The living room lights were adjusted to the most comfortable warm yellow.
Aaron sank into the leather sofa, wearing a pair of expensive silk slippers on his feet.
On the coffee table stood a bottle of unopened aged whiskey.
The dark brown liquid gently swayed in the crystal bottle.
Lorna squatted by the side of the sofa.
Her dark green long hair had already been blown dry, resting fluffy on her shoulders.
She was still wearing that somewhat oversized hoodie modified from a prison uniform.
The fanaticism towards Aaron in her eyes not only did not fade, but became stronger and stronger.
"Magnetic fields are not meant for randomly smashing people."
Aaron spoke lazily, holding a metal cork in his hand.
"That old man Eric only knows how to pull with violence, that's what a farmer does."
He pushed the bottle of whiskey forward.
"Give it a try, don't break the glass, and don't break the Bottleneck."
"Pull that cork out little by little."
Lorna held her breath, her five fingers spread open.
She stared fixedly at the bottle mouth.
A faint green flowing light danced at her fingertips.
She felt that the tiny metal molecules in the air were resonating.
That was a layer of tinfoil wrapped around the bottle mouth, as well as trace minerals in the cork.
Creak.
The bottle mouth made a soft sound.
The cork moved upward by one millimeter, but due to uneven force, a few tiny cracks appeared on the Bottleneck.
"No, that's not right."
Aaron reached out and tapped gently on the back of Lorna's hand with his index finger.
Lorna's body trembled abruptly.
A warm current crept into her meridians along Aaron's fingertips.
At that moment, Lorna felt that her crude magnetic field control was forcibly combed through by a grander will.
The magnetic field lines that were originally like a mess instantly became softer than hair.
Lorna held her breath, her fingers lifting slightly upward.
Poof.
A soft sound.
The cork was pulled out as if by an invisible and gentle pair of hands, steadily suspended in mid-air.
The bottle mouth was as smooth as new, and not a single drop of liquor was shaken.
"Have you learned it?"
Aaron withdrew his hand and took two cups from the side.
Lorna stared blankly at the suspended cork.
This absolute control over the microscopic World was something she had never experienced at Magneto's place.
Eric only knew how to teach her how to overturn cars and how to smash iron towers.
And here at Aaron's, power became an art.
"Learned it, Master."
Lorna lowered her head, her voice trembling slightly.
This feeling of being taught hand-in-hand made the flame called "adoration" in her chest burn even brighter.
She now felt that even if Aaron asked her to blow off the roof of the White House, she could do it elegantly and properly.
Lorna manipulated the magnetic field, causing the wine bottle to tilt automatically.
The dark brown whiskey accurately fell into the cup, ice cubes colliding against the cup wall, making a crisp sound.
She knelt on the carpet, holding the cup with both hands and handing it to Aaron.
Aaron took the cup and took a sip.
The icy liquid slid down his throat, and that lazy feeling made him squint his eyes comfortably.
"This is what you call a corkscrew."
Aaron evaluated.
The corner of Lorna's mouth almost wanted to reveal a smug smile, and she even wanted to lean closer to Aaron's leg by the way.
This feeling of monopolizing the favor of the gods made her as intoxicated as drinking a whole bottle of wine.
Right at this moment.
The induction door of the living room made a click.
The door crack slowly pulled open.
An illusory red mist drifted in along the gaps in the floor.
That viscous, oppressive Chaotic energy carrying a strong warning meaning.
Made all the goosebumps on Lorna's body stand up instantly.
Magnetic field sensing was alarming wildly.
She could feel that the entity coming in possessed absolute destructive power not inferior to hers.
Wanda pushed open the door and stood at the entrance.
There was still a trace of moisture brought back from outside on her body.
Her fingertips retained a few wisps of unscattered crimson smoke.
She didn't look at Aaron, instead locking her gaze tightly on Lorna who was kneeling beside the sofa.
Lorna was wearing an oversized hoodie, her hair loose, and her posture as well-behaved as a newly tamed wild cat.
Most importantly, Lorna's hand was still vaguely resting on the edge of Aaron's knee.
Wanda's eyes turned cold.
The originally warm living room air seemed to have fallen into an ice cave at that instant.
Creak.
The handle of the handbag in Wanda's hand was squeezed with a finger mark.
She stepped inside.
With every step she took, the red mist on the floor grew a bit denser.
Lorna stood up without showing any weakness.
The green magnetic field light danced wildly deep within her pupils.
The surrounding metal ornaments began to hum uneasily.
Wanda stopped her steps.
She stared at this newly arrived green-haired girl, her mouth pressed into a straight line.
"Aaron."
Wanda's voice was cold and clear, exuding a heart-pounding sense of danger.
"Is this the... corkscrew you newly found back?"
Chapter 90: Lorna Joins the Harem, Wanda Senses a Crisis
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, New York's neon lights bled into the rain like shattered patches of color.
Aaron leaned his head back against the leather sofa's backrest.
The custom-made rhinoceros leather felt slightly cool to the touch, like pressing against a smooth block of jade.
Lorna knelt behind Aaron.
Her dark green hair fell over her shoulders, the tips still slightly damp.
Her slender fingers hovered half a centimeter above his skin, pressing gently near the sides of Aaron's temples.
A faint green light flickered between her fingers.
A faint hum from the magnetic field echoed in the air, sounding like a swarm of tiny wasps flapping their wings.
This was Lorna's self-created "Magnetic Massage Method."
Controlling the lines of magnetic force, she performed micron-level massage within Aaron's subcutaneous tissues.
Kneaded by electromagnetic waves, his stiff muscles loosened inch by inch.
"A bit harder."
Aaron murmured with his eyes closed, letting out a soft, low grunt.
"Yes, Master."
Lorna's voice dropped, carrying a submissive obedience.
The green glow at her fingertips brightened.
More magnetic strands slid into the gaps of Aaron's cervical spine like tiny invisible hands, precisely tweaking every tense nerve.
Lorna lowered her eyelids, staring at Aaron's face so close to her own.
From this angle, Aaron's eyelashes were long, casting soft shadows over his eye sockets.
The ruthless aura of someone commanding New York's entire underworld completely dissolved into a lazy, comfortable atmosphere.
Sweat slipped down Lorna's palms and through her fingers.
She could feel the terrifying power surging beneath Aaron's skin.
It was a silent reactor capable of tearing through dimensions at any given moment.
Serving such a deity instantly filled her chest with a morbid vanity, washing away the guilt of betraying Magneto.
Right at that moment.
The sensor door to the living room gave a soft click.
A streak of crimson mist seeped through the cracks in the floorboards.
Viscous, oppressive, and dripping with possessiveness, the Chaos energy acted like a pair of icy hands, instantly snapping the magnetic vibration in the air.
Wanda pushed the door open and stood at the entryway.
She was wearing an oversized white hoodie, carrying a box of handmade donuts freshly bought from Queens.
The paper bag had pink polka dots printed on it, stained with a bit of grease.
Wanda stared at the scene on the sofa.
Lorna's fingers were stroking Aaron's cheek intimately.
Due to the angle, from where Wanda stood, Lorna looked as if she were practically pressed against Aaron's back.
Clack.
The box of donuts dropped onto the marble tabletop with a dull thud.
"Aaron, magnetic force as crude as this..."
Wanda spoke, her voice sounding as if choked with ice.
She stepped inside, the red mist beneath her feet surging violently, forcing the comfortable room temperature down by three degrees.
"...can easily cause an electrolytic reaction in someone's blood vessels."
Wanda stopped five meters from the sofa, glaring fixedly at Lorna's striking green hair.
"You are trying to kill him, not massage him."
Lorna did not let go.
She turned her head slightly, a provocative glint flashing in her green eyes.
Magnetic rays flared around her fingertips like throwing daggers ready to launch.
"That logic only applies to Mortals."
Lorna curled her lips into a mean smirk.
"Master's body is harder than a star. Your lukewarm magicis only fit for keeping the neighbor's cat warm."
"What did you say?"
Wanda's nails dug deep into her palms, her knuckles turning white from tension.
Red Chaos energy coalesced behind her into countlessly twisted sharp claws.
It was a sense of crisis.
In the ruins of Sokovia, in HYDRA's laboratories, Wandahad never felt such pressure.
Pietro was just a brainless errand boy, and though Gwenand Felicia had eyes on Aaron too, they didn't share that sense of belonging as a fellow vassal of power.
But this Lorna...
She was Magneto's daughter, carrying the same blood named Destruction flowing in her veins.
The way she looked at Aaron made Wanda see her own reflection.
That fanatical devotion, that humble eagerness to sacrifice her very Soul.
It made Wanda feel like her territory was being invaded.
"Enough."
Aaron opened his eyes.
His gaze was clear without a trace of sleepiness, as if he could see right through the messy thoughts inside the two girls' hearts with a single glance.
He sat up straight.
Lorna withdrew her hands smoothly, kneeling obediently to the side.
Wanda dispersed the energy claws behind her as well, though her chest was still heaving violently.
"Bickering all day—aren't you tired? I'm tired of listening to it."
Aaron pulled a strangely shaped silver cube from his pocket.
It was something he had just drawn from the [Supreme Mystery Box].
It was called the "Myriad Heavens Plane Anchor Core."
At this moment, the cube was in a disassembled state.
Tens of thousands of precise components, each the size of a rice grain and emitting a faint blue glow, rotated slowly in the air.
There were no physical connections between them; they maintained their formation entirely through a mysterious force field of Law.
"This is a new prize I got."
Aaron pointed at the pulsating components, speaking in a lazy tone.
"Whoever helps me assemble it gets top credit tonight."
He pointed at Lorna.
"Didn't you say you have fine control over microscopic magnetic fields?"
Then he pointed at Wanda.
"Didn't you say your magic could alter reality probabilities?"
Aaron sank back into the sofa, settling into a comfortable position to rest his eyes.
"Begin. Whoever finishes assembling it first becomes the'Second Housekeeper' of this house."
The two girls exchanged a glance.
Their eyes met in midair, as if intense electric sparks could be heard cracking between them.
Lorna took a deep breath.
The green glow in her eyes reached its peak.
Hum—
Thousands of hair-thin magnetic lines burst forth from her palms.
She tried to use magnetic force to lock onto every miniature part.
Those components were far too small.
Each was carved with intricate runic scripts; even a microscopic repulsive force would collapse the entire array.
A thin layer of cold sweat broke out on Lorna's forehead.
Her fingertips trembled; such precise operation down to the molecular level drained her Mental Energy rapidly.
"So stupid."
Wanda snorted coldly.
She extended her right hand, her fingers plucking through thin air as if strumming harp strings.
Dark red strands of magic penetrated directly into the force field like a cluster of docile red worms.
"Twist, position, anchor."
Wanda chanted under her breath, a thin stream of red blood trickling from her nose due to extreme concentration.
She was not just moving parts.
She was forcibly altering the "intended positions" where these parts belonged.
Click, click.
Two sets of components collided in midair, snapping together with crisp interlocking clicks.
Lorna refused to be outdone.
She bit down hard on her tongue, the metallic taste of blood spreading in her mouth.
If micro-adjustments couldn't keep up, she would use brute force.
She forcibly reversed the local magnetic poles, forcing the remaining thousands of components to generate a self-induced centripetal attraction.
"Trying to steal the credit?"
Wanda's eyes turned sharp and fierce.
The red light at her fingertips exploded, forcefully severing Lorna's magnetic interference.
"That's my spot!"
Wanda let out a low shout.
Chaos energy surged out like a tidal wave, trying to take control of all the components.
Lorna's face instantly flushed crimson.
It was a physical reaction brought on by overexerting her superability.
She felt as if a red-hot iron rod had been shoved into her brain.
"First come, first served! You washed-up Witch!"
The atmospheric pressure in the living room suddenly spiked.
The expensive decorative porcelain began to show faint hairline cracks.
The cork of the whisky bottle resting in the ice bucket popped off with a loud bang under the immense pressure.
Aaron kept his eyes closed.
He could feel the air around him turning into an extremely chaotic meat grinder.
On the left was a magnetic storm that tore through metal.
On the right was Chaos magic warping Karma.
The shockwaves from this collision caused the entire building to tremble slightly.
"If you want to fight, go fight on the moon."
Aaron's voice was flat, yet like a heavy hammer, it struck precisely into the depths of both girls' Sea of Consciousness.
Both girls shuddered simultaneously, their movements slowing down at once.
However, they couldn't cut off their energy output in time.
In that exact split second...
The half-assembled silver cube, unable to withstand the pressure of two absolutely opposing forces squeezing it...
...suddenly emitted a piercing, screeching wail.
All the components lost their containment at that moment.
They flew frantically around the living room like a startled swarm of bees.
"Mine!"
Wanda reflexively reached out to grab it.
The red light at her fingertips grew so dense it looked ready to drip blood, her powerful magic blanketing the entire living room like a giant net.
"In your dreams!"
Lorna roared.
She hurled her arms outward.
A wild, reckless magnetic repulsive force exploded violently.
This power was no longer directed at the components.
It was directed at everything around them.
BOOM—!
The expensive Italian dining table was instantly flipped, sliding dozens of meters across the marble floor.
The audio-visual equipment worth hundreds of thousands of dollars crumpled into a ball of scrap metal under the magnetic kneading.
All the sofa cushions, throw pillows, and even the famous paintings hanging on the walls lost gravity in that instant.
Interwoven in the dark red and emerald green lights...
...they were swept up by this terrifying energy.
Spinning, tearing, and flying frantically midair.
The entire living room...
...instantly turned into a wild, multicolored vortex of destruction.