With the dust settling over Cairo, the main event was technically over.
But for Tao, the it was just beginning. First of all, it was time to make good on his promises.
He looked at his companions, the three women who were as much a part of his mind as his own cultivation. But before he could play cosmic geneticist, he needed a a home base. A sanctuary. A vacation spot far from prying eyes and whatever agencies that are currently hyperventilating, where he could properly adjust to this reality.
Oh, and what an inspiration Apocalypse has given him.
He called out to the trio at a distance. "Frost, Scarlet, Xena."
"Mr. Nexus," a cool, corrective voice cut through the air. Xiao Ning - Xena - offered him a look of mild reproach and no amusement
"We agreed: use the code names only when outsiders are present."
Is the slang of name more modernized for them? Social misstep then?, he noted internally. After this gentle course correction, he informed they would be summoned again once their new home was ready.
A little hesitation later, they bid him farewell. They retreated into the small world within his ring without a question, their forms dissolving into motes of light, he turned his attention upward.
***
Honestly he doesn't think they would allow his crazy plans for the same if they accompanied.
A single thought later, he was floating in the upper atmosphere. The blue marble of Earth sprawled beneath him, vast and fragile.
Turning to his side, beyond the curvature of the planet, he could see the young star spewing out flames of plasma. And here, in the cold silence just above the atmosphere, drifted his collection: twenty thousand nuclear warheads, "fixed" in a chaotic ballet across the orbit.
What to do with you all?
The question was rhetorical; the blueprint had already crystallized in his mind.
***
The Problem of Potential:
The more he learned about the X-gene, the more it became clear that it wasn't strictly necessary for channeling psionic powers. However, studying psionic power at its root was temporarily impossible; it involved the intricate mechanisms of consciousness. He estimated he would need at least two years just to begin that kind of work.
He needed to settle somewhere peaceful. Somewhere away from pollution, away from the constant electronic buzzing of humanity, and away from their surveillance networks and annoyance from their curiosities.
He needed an isolated island.
So what's the hold up? The problem was, most islands came with baggage ~ claims, monitoring stations, or indigenous wildlife he didn't want to disturb. He found it annoying. The easiest solution?
Create a new one.
He wasn't going to be a polite guest here. He also wouldn't be a squatter like he was in Oblivion. No, here he planned to be a tenant. May be a very aggressive, bullish tenant who decides to knock down a few walls and install a pool while the landlord is out buying groceries.
Certainly, a little remodeling was well within his rights. Atleast, he think so.
***
## Technical Snag
But there was a technical snag: his divine powers couldn't easily transform matter that wasn't composed of the Divine Dao. Where could he borrow the necessary power to bridge that gap?
His own reserves were vast, naturally. But expending them here would be inefficient, like using a celestial artifact to hammer a common nail. More critically, it would create an excess ~ a massive, unaccounted-for spike in the local energy field that could destabilize the creation's fragile balance or invite the enforcers of cosmic order.
He needed an external, concentrated source of raw potential.
Those twenty thousand nuclear warheads held energy, yes. But as mighty as they seemed to mortals, the explosive yield was paltry. Crude. Barely sufficient for parlor tricks in cosmic terms. But energy wasn't just about quantity; it was about quality.
While the governments below were surely sweating through their suits, he decided it was time to bring his toys home. He needed to introduce an impossible variable into their carefully balanced equation and extract the resulting chaos.
Watching Apocalypse attempt terraforming and empower Magneto, and seeing his own clumsy attempts to aid people, he realized there were subtleties he had yet to master. Until now, he had been working with macro systems ~ traversing realms, jumping timelines. But he lacked the finesse required for the micro-scale manipulation of this specific reality.
He needed to be prepared. Eventually, he may confront sorcerers, gods, and perhaps even abstract conceptual entities. He refused to fall back simply because he lacked the dexterity to wield his power effectively on their home turf.
A small exercise in timeline manipulation would be the perfect training ground to scale his precision up or down. Essentially, his plan was to test his time travel abilities after causing a little ruckus, without straying too far from the present.
And maybe, just maybe, solve his energy problem in the process.
***
The Solution of Collapsed Time:
A theory had taken shape in his mind. This universe, like all others, was a tapestry woven from threads of time and possibility. Every moment that crossed the threshold of "now" contained infinite branches. Most of these collapsed into nothingness, the energy returning to the void.
That collapse released a subtle background radiation of existential potential ~ the ghost energy of choices never made.
What if he could harvest that?
By introducing a single, massive, impossible variable ~ the simultaneous and controlled descent of every nuclear weapon on the planet ~ he wouldn't just be creating panic. He would be forcing a temporal crisis large enough to cross the threshold while still remaining within the current moment.
He would be creating a "now" so potent, so fraught with catastrophic possibility, that the timeline would be forced to shed its probabilistic futures at an exponential rate. The act of the world witnessing such assured destruction ~ or rather, the tension of that destruction not happening immediately ~ would create a paradox of immense scale.
***
It's not that he didn't think of the obvious solutions ~ like going to the asteroid belt, pulling a rock, and using it to build his base. But if he did that, he would miss the knowledge he could gain during the process of an cross - temporal transfer.
He would miss the chance to refine his abilities and the encounters he saw in the near future possibilities. Moreover transformation still needs energy that must come from somewhere.
Outside the timestream, it may be nothing more than a small cut that eventually heal itself. Nothing to be concerned about.
The study of the X-gene was still ongoing, so he couldn't pull a stunt like drawing energy through it to affect the physical world yet. The energy he needed wasn't in the explosions. It was in the rewinding of the clock at the very last second. A conflicted future was simply energy waiting to be harvested for the real one.
***
A Detached Calculus:
Was he talking about converting people and matter into pure energy? In a way. He was converting a portion of their probable lives and timelines into fuel.
The thought is cool, analytical.
Then again, as the anchor being, wasn't he the story writer of this timeline? Just by his presence, he had been restricting possibilities up until now. Adding one more constraint didn't seem like much.
What about the beings inside? Their fear wasn't his goal. Or maybe it was... merely an unavoidable byproduct. The scent of the reagent in a cosmic experiment.
Was it moral? From their limited perspective, undoubtedly not. But from his, it was simply physics. You get a new future; why worry about what could have happened? A gardener does not ask the weeds for permission to till the soil.
Besides, he was following the rules. No hoarding of energy, no theft of it. The cosmic terms were met.
Yeah, Victor Timely taught me that.
He had no spite for mortals. He simply had designs. A flicker of something that wasn't quite amusement, but clinical interest, passed through him.
Maybe it was because his mind now labored over several things simultaneously, or perhaps it was the arrogance and thrill that came from playing god in a new biological body. Regardless, he had already decided to take the hard path, just for the sake of it.
***
The spatial transition was instantaneous.
The cold vacuum of space was replaced by the salty tang of South Pacific air. The roar of the ocean filled his ears.
He stood upon the waves, having chosen a spot far from any territorial waters ~ a blank slate on the planet's blue canvas. Everywhere beneath him was deep ocean. High above, a couple of exhausted seabirds circled, desperately searching for a speck of land upon which to rest.
"Don't worry, little ones," he murmured, his voice lost to the wind. "Before you weary yourselves unto one, there will be a land here for you. You may well be its first visitors."
***
Preparations
Before the act, he let his divine sense unfurl, a vast, invisible net cast into the deep currents of reality. He sought the familiar signature of the cosmic awareness stream, the substrate of all that was. Tuning into it, he observed their timeline ~ a single thread that had already subtly diverged from its parent branch.
The earlier heavy, predetermined feeling ~ that temporal inertia, whether from destiny, meddling, or mere "canon events" ~ had vanished completely with Apocalypse's defeat and Jean's awakening.
The timeline was a blank canvas once more.
The mere act of claiming the warheads had already pruned countless possible futures, forcing reality to converge upon the branch he occupied. The result was a delicious, terrifying state of flux. Here, at the epicenter of his power, he could almost see the past causal nodes of his own existence glittering within his protective shield.
I am back to being an atemporal mind within a timestream, he thought.
Technically, in a place without the rule of time, I am in an eternal state of present. Time-slipping doesn't violate the rule of my presence being absolute, nor am I shifting outside the barrier's current range of nearly 69 miles.
The refinement of the universe's template was slowly showing results. He could feel it ~ his influence was already expanding.
***
He tried switching back along the world line for a few seconds into the past, watching the probabilistic changes ripple out within his shielded space.
When he did that he could see the people from future detecting it years ahead of current era. One person jumped into time stream in the potential future where Tao decided no further actions, but since he was the anchor around which flux originates and constrict, the tech fails, person simply faded out into various points in time streams.
Miserable ending.
What about the energy he could harvest? They were insignificant, building up only a slight amount of charge. Nothing to see.
Maybe we need an audience in present?
The thought alone formed a timeline probability showing him the results. Well, let's go with that. It's the most advantageous to him.
He had already chosen the course of action: to act as the villain, to balance out the good deed he had done saving those lives previously.
Enough thoughts. Time to test this properly, he mused, a spark of anticipation cutting through the cosmic detachment.
For the first time, he extended the conceptual shielding of his sub-realm to envelop the entire earth in both absolute spatial and temporal dimensions. Since its upper bound defied all mortal reckoning, he could only project a blind, absolute will into the void: Prevent anything from interfering.
Material, Astral, Magical, Null, Conceptual any dimensions that overlap was confined within.
Yes. It was a leap of faith.
He decided to trust the entity that had granted him this power, just as he had in the past.
And miraculously, as always, the universe bent to his command.
***
His senses effortlessly tracked the X-Men's jet, now happily en route from their Cairo victory. They were nearing their home continent, about an hour and a half from his position at their current speed.
He'd timed this carefully ~ releasing the warheads slowly to let the world have its proper, panicked reaction before the cavalry arrived.
One by one, the larger yield warheads began their descent. He guided them from orbit, wrapping each in a layer of divine sense that isolated them from their own sensors. To any observer, they'd simply go dark, then begin descending in a way that defied every known law of physics. For nearly an hour, the world expected them to burn up as the others had.
But they weren't burning up ~ because he wasn't letting them.
The panic was… glorious. Are they proximity based? Remote Controlled? Theories flew about technical plagues and Magneto's final revenge. But without any observable global field fluctuations, they had no explanation.
They could theoretically shoot them down, may be blast EMP; he considered, but who would dare? If a warhead came down naturally, there was no one to blame but chance. But if you made one explode, even without triggering fission?
Then you had someone to blame.
The resulting radioactive fallout would dust entire countries; and likely start World War III especially when world is on cold war fuse and mutant apocalypses.
So they watched. And tracked. And panicked. Twenty thousand nuclear warheads descending in a slow, impossible formation. Emergency protocols, never meant to be used, were being dusted off in situation rooms worldwide.
He made the whole process deliberately, painfully slow. This kind of event had massive timeline-branching potential. He could feel it, the creation of countless future timestreams as reality solidified around this single, terrifying event.
He also wanted to see how they'd react ~ what they would do when faced with an absolute, inexplicable threat. Their own weapons, now returning home in a way they couldn't comprehend.
Would any unknown characters emerge in this time of need? This promised to be a far more interesting show than Apocalypse's tired performance.
***
## X - Men & WHITE HOUSE
The X-Men's jet was nearing the American coastline, the mood still light from their victory, when an urgent communication shattered the calm.
"This is the Office of the President speaking. Is this Charles Xavier?"
Xavier picked up the receiver in the jet, his calm voice cutting through the sudden tension. "Yes, Charles Xavier speaking."
"Are you aware of the current threat we're facing?" the filtered voice of the President came through, tight with stress.
Xavier maintained his composure. "I believe CIA agent Moira already briefed your department remotely, Mr. President. The being known as En Sabah Nur was neutralized hours ago."
"Are you aware of the status of the orbital nuclear assets?" the President's voice sharpened. "They're closer to your actual position now."
"We were briefed there was a cascade de-orbit underway. We assumed most would burn up…" Xavier began, then paused. "Wait, what did you say?"
"Assume again," the President cut him off. "You have roughly half an hour. Nearly twenty thousand warheads aren't burning up on re-entry. They're descending at a controlled, slow pace that defies every law of physics we know. Its as if someone wanting it to explode"
***
"Their projected impact zone is a coordinated splashdown in a remote sector of the South Pacific. But the radiation and potential shockwave in the off chance if it triggered or whatever behind this decide to …" The President's voice grew heavier.
"There are few flight paths in the way...But more than that a simultaneous detonation of that yield, we are not talking about prototypes. Actual warheads, .... even over water, will create coastal surges and a nuclear winter that won't stick just stick just there... It will end the mutant-human conflict by creeping into our continent. We'll be worrying about survival, not politics."
A heavy pause followed after revealing the location. The Professor had already psychically informed the team of the situation and location. They were now grappling with how to respond. The joy of victory evaporated, replaced by the cold dread of extinction.
"Professor," the President's next words were measured, deliberate, "I need you to be brutally honest with me. Is that ancient mutant really dead? Is Magneto responsible for this? Anyone you know? Our sensors detected no abnormal magnetic fields associated with this event. None. But he's the only being on the planet we thought capable of such large-scale metal manipulation."
Xavier took a moment, and looked at Jean Grey nodding, then spoke with clarity. "I see. Yes, he was destroyed. And you've confirmed it's not Erik. He's with me. This is a third party."
"Since, this is an unknown actor. We need Magneto to engage the warheads now, from his current position. Our analysis confirms his power scale is sufficient for remote intervention."
"And what are the terms?" Xavier's voice grew firm, shielding his friend & students even now.. "Assuming he can, you know I cannot, and will not, simply order him, a labelled terrorist mutant to service without guarantees."
***
"Mr. Charles… This is.." The President seemed to recalibrate after his advisors signaled, his tone shifting to something colder, more efficient. "The terms are this: In exchange for his immediate and successful assistance in neutralizing this global threat, the United States will champion a full and unconditional amnesty for Erik Lehnsherr at the United Nations Security Council, absolving him of all actions taken while under Apocalypse's influence.
Furthermore, we will formally table the Mutant Rights Act for debate within thirty days. This isn't a request for his surrender; it's an offer for his - your race's redemption, on a global stage."
Xavier didn't need to turn to Erik; he could feel his old friend's mind, sharp and calculating. "He'll want to know what 'neutralizing' entails. You can't expect him to simply drop them."
"The directive is to halt their descent. Hold them in a stable geosynchronous position over the impact zone. Our EOD specialists are en route via hypersonic aircraft. He holds them; we disarm them. It's the only way to prevent a nuclear winter. The world is watching, Professor. And right now, it's hoping a mutant will save it."
Xavier didn't hesitate. "Then we have an accord. Erik? The floor is yours. It seems you have the chance to be the savior. To be something more."
There was a pause and Magneto responded.
A beat, then Magneto's low, resonant voice cut through the line: "Tell your specialists to hurry, Mr. President. We have a deal."
Apocalypse had boosted Magneto's power temporarily, but now that he is gone, the strength is not comparable. The X-Men are playing it cool, keeping their little "weakness" under wraps. After all, a bit of mystery is quite the deterrent these days!