Chapter 125 – The Master of Magnetism
In a secluded sector of New York, Magneto stood on a rooftop, his gaze fixed on the gargantuan portal tearing the sky apart.
"Stark Industries... what have they done this time?" Erik Lehnsherr muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "How does such technology end up on their tower?"
Magneto held a grudge against Tony Stark. The last time his plans had been thwarted, Stark had been the one to intervene. While he and Professor Xavier shared a complicated, decades-long history, he found it easier to lay the blame at Stark's feet. Seeing the colossal blue energy column, he felt only contempt. Since escaping his last defeat, he had remained in New York—it was, after all, the most convenient place to cause trouble.
As he watched, the portal spewed forth a chaotic stream of Chitauri soldiers and massive Leviathans. The initial wave was decimated by a sudden onslaught of lightning—the work of the one known as Thor. Above them, Tony Stark's armor streaked through the air.
"An alien invasion?" Mystique asked, her expression one of pure shock. Even with her ability to infiltrate the most secure facilities on Earth, she had never imagined a scenario like this.
Sabretooth, never one for deep analysis, stared at the sky. "What's going on? Where did they come from?"
"It seems we've been hiding long enough to miss some critical developments," Magneto said, turning to Mystique. "Raven, did you find nothing in your intel gathering?"
Mystique frowned. "The only anomaly was a massive explosion at a secret government laboratory some time ago. Afterward, several departments changed... characters from myths and rumors began gathering. I suppose now we know who they were preparing for."
"And Stark was involved?"
"Yes, though he was brought in toward the end."
"Alien life," Magneto mused, watching the battlefield expand. "They want a piece of our world, do they?"
The battle around Stark Tower had escalated into a nightmare. A splinter group of Chitauri soldiers began to fan out, and as fate would have it, a squad veered directly toward their position.
"What do we do?" Mystique asked, looking at the Leviathans. She was a master of infiltration, not large-scale warfare. Against a fleet of space-faring behemoths, she was effectively powerless.
Magneto watched the soldiers, his eyes narrowing. "We have never encountered aliens before. Tell me—if these beings occupy Earth, do you think we could ever take it back?"
"I don't know," Mystique admitted. "We don't know their tactics or their weaponry."
"Precisely," Magneto said. "Then this is the perfect opportunity to learn. We shall engage them. I want to see if alien technology can withstand the power of a mutant."
"Good," Sabretooth growled, stepping in front of Magneto as a shield.
Magneto didn't hesitate. He reached out with his mind, sensing the Chitauri fleet. To his heightened senses, the alien metal of the ships felt like exposed nerves. He willed his magnetic power to surge into the nearest Leviathan.
CRACK!
The massive beast shuddered as its structure folded inward, its metallic hide groaning under the pressure of Magneto's will. With a sickening sound of rending metal, the Leviathan was crushed into a flat, pancake-like disc of scrap.
CLANG!
It slammed into the pavement below, kicking up a cloud of dust. The surrounding Chitauri soldiers stopped dead in their tracks, staring in horror at the crushed remains of their flagship.
"Sabretooth, draw them in," Magneto commanded, his eyes cold.
Sabretooth roared, a sound that cut through the chaos of the battle. The Chitauri pilots, confused and fearful, swarmed toward the noise. Magneto merely waved his hand. An invisible wall of magnetic force slammed into the pilots, twisting their skiffs into junk and sending them plummeting to the ground.
The alien soldiers fired back, their energy beams lashing out. Sabretooth stood his ground, letting the beams strike his chest. He remembered what the "Devil's Envoy" had told him: his fruit could currently only absorb physical attacks, but through pain and regeneration, his cells might adapt. This was his training ground.
He stood in the storm of energy, his flesh searing and regenerating in seconds. He grit his teeth, forcing his body to accept the searing heat, absorbing the energy until his very cells began to mutate.
ROAR!
Sabretooth's body began to expand—two meters, three, five, ten. He grew into a towering monstrosity, a wall of flesh and fury that dwarfed even the green monster in the center of the city.
"Incredible," Mystique whispered, watching him soak up the alien fire. "The Envoy's gift... it's more than just regeneration."
"Now," Magneto said, his voice calm, "drive them to me. The further away they are, the more effort it takes to crush them."
Sabretooth grinned. "I'll herd them straight to you."
He leaped from the roof, cratering the street upon landing, and charged into the fray. He grabbed a Leviathan and, with a punch fueled by his new, immense size, shattered its skull. The aliens were paralyzed by indecision: if they attacked, the beast grew stronger; if they fled, they were cut down.
Sabretooth punched through their formation, herding the surviving ships toward Magneto's rooftop.
As the fleet gathered in his kill-zone, Magneto clenched his fist.
"Destroy them all."
The magnetic field surged, and in an instant, the sky above their sector was cleared, leaving nothing but dust and twisted metal.