"Is this your private kingdom?"
Magneto, clad in his white restraint suit, rode the elevator up to the top floor of Umbrella's main building, Sean's personal domain...
Even Dr. Connors or Gwen wouldn't dare intrude here uninvited.
The leader of the Brotherhood immediately spotted the young man standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows.
As a veteran powerhouse among mutants, even though he was currently reduced to a prisoner, he carried himself with the pride of a king, unwilling to grovel before his enemy without dignity.
Ever since escaping the Nazi concentration camps and breaking free from Sebastian Shaw's control, Erik Lehnsherr had sworn to himself that he would never bow his head to anyone again.
"As you can see, this is my kingdom... An inviolable and sovereign territory." Sean turned with a smile, gesturing for the older man to take a seat.
The long table was set with an ice bucket holding two bottles of Munich beer, surrounded by fruit baskets and delicacies, as if preparing for a grand feast.
"I hope this arrangement doesn't offend your dignity." The young man wore a mild expression as he spoke softly, "The Mutant Registration Act has already been implemented. In just one week, over two hundred mutants have registered at the government's designated 'reception centers'. New York, Los Angeles, Washington, Chicago... Every day, more mutants step forward to reveal their identities."
"Under the government's (and my) arrangements, they've secured stable jobs and been integrated into the social welfare system. Soon, they'll live just like ordinary people."
Of course, Oscorp and Umbrella alone couldn't possibly absorb such a large mutant population. But with Wesley's control over Hell's Kitchen and the factories under their umbrella, even several times the current number wouldn't be an issue.
The government was already planning mutant communities, and Umbrella had enthusiastically donated nearly 60% of the funding. Even Tony Stark, the long-absent Iron Man, had been roped in, unwilling to fall behind, covering another 20% of the massive costs.
It wouldn't be long before mutants across North America flocked to them...
By then, Sean could leisurely handpick those with the most potential, funneling them into the newly established Umbrella Security Team. The rest would be assigned to factories, schools, laboratories, and so on.
Then, by elevating a few capable individuals, he could solidify his control over the mutant population. Once divided and conquered, mutants would fall entirely into his grasp.
He wasn't some philanthropist who gave without expecting returns, nor did he possess a naturally charitable heart...
Aside from gaining the Professor's trust, the reason he had schemed for so long, coaxed Vice President Underwood into pushing the Mutant Registration Act, and gone to such lengths, was to seize control of this formidable force.
"Hmph. This is all just a show orchestrated by you and Charles." Magneto snorted, his face full of resentment, "I don't know what madness has taken my old friend, trusting a human like you... You're no different from Sebastian Shaw; ambitious, cold, and selfish. When the time comes, you'll sell out mutants without hesitation! Charles will be ruined because of you!"
"So that's how you see me? Like Shaw? The Black King of the Hellfire Club?" Sean smirked dismissively.
Sebastian Shaw was nothing more than a mad scientist who fantasized about destroying the world to fulfill his ambitions.
He had found the key to evolution in mutants but refused to delve deeper, instead rallying a group of them to incite nuclear war between superpowers for his own gain.
A mutant kingdom built on ruins? The thought was laughable. If the planet were engulfed in war, if World War III broke out, what good would that do mutants?
Mutant abilities couldn't manufacture assembly-line parts or conjure food and gasoline out of thin air. Eliminating humanity would only be digging their own graves. Only a power-hungry lunatic would pursue such a path.
"This country has no place for you anymore. The Brotherhood's radical methods are outdated." Sean's tone was indifferent.
Magneto instinctively raised his hand, expecting the beer to fly into his grip. When nothing happened, he sighed and reached for it himself.
Stripped of his extraordinary abilities, even the mightiest mutant was no different from an ordinary old man.
The Brotherhood's leader knew Sean possessed the mutant-suppressing serum. With that as his trump card, even if Magneto and Charles joined forces, victory wasn't guaranteed.
After taking a swig of the cold beer, Magneto spoke with subdued resignation, "I accept your terms."
A faint melancholy weighed on him. He had been ready to lead his people to greatness, only for Sean to appear out of nowhere, shattering his plans and leaving him imprisoned.
"Leaving this country is the right choice. It's time for the Brotherhood to move on. The future lies ahead... the Magneto I know wouldn't cling to the past like some nostalgic old man." Sean's voice was calm as he picked up his own beer and drank deeply.
His gaze lingered on the white-haired elder, whose once-handsome and commanding features had long been eroded by time, leaving only weathered wrinkles.
"Africa's history is one of bloody European colonization. By the 19th century, 95% of its land had been carved up by foreign powers, its resources plundered relentlessly. Even now, developed nations continue their exploitation through money and goods... just in a different form."
The young man laid out his plan methodically, "That continent is a playground for Western colonizers. Endless ethnic conflicts, rampant tropical diseases, and environmental devastation from industrialization have left it in perpetual turmoil. Though poor and barren, it is rich in resources..."
"...With your power, you could lead mutants to build a new homeland. Whether you play savior or demon, that's your choice." Sean's eyes darkened as he painted the vision.
The Brotherhood needed a stage to unleash their potential, and that land of chaos and strife was perfect for establishing a new order.
"So this is how you plan to control us?" Magneto sneered, his sharp eyes flashing, all traces of his earlier weariness gone...
"You want me to take the Brotherhood to Africa... but all the supplies, weapons, medical equipment... those would come from you, wouldn't they? Mutants alone can't establish a foothold in unfamiliar territory. Not with warlords, tribal chieftains, military factions, and mercenaries crawling everywhere. Without strong backing, survival would be impossible."
"There's a warlord named Sowande. I've taken over all his assets. These problems can be easily resolved. You'll grow stronger in no time." Sean glanced at the wary Magneto, taunting, "Since when did the legendary leader of the Brotherhood become such a hesitant coward?"
He continued, "Let's be clear... who here is the prisoner? You're welcome to return to your cell. I can always find another mutant to replace you. One who might even be more... obedient."
Magneto fell silent. The times had changed, and he had no leverage left.
With a deep sigh, he realized that before this young man, even the proudest had no choice but to lower their heads.
Sean always had the most tempting bargaining chips, turning others into his weapons. Though Magneto knew the Brotherhood was just a pawn in this game, the aging leader couldn't refuse the offer.
He was no longer the vigorous young man he once was. His face was lined with wrinkles. And years of battling humans, and Charles, had wasted too much precious time.
"Tell Charles... goodbye for me." The old man's eyes were heavy with nostalgia and sorrow.
Though they had long stood on opposing sides, there was no denying that the Professor was his only true friend.
Once Magneto set foot on African soil, the days of their bitter rivalry would be over. They might never meet again.
"Don't worry. What is yours... will come to you." Sean's voice was almost lyrical, like a recitation, "I look forward to seeing the Brotherhood build their utopia, a true paradise..."