Caesars Palace Hotel.
After returning with Richard, Magneto wasted no time.
"Study," he said. "We talk alone."
Richard already knew the subject. He told Wanda, Pietro, and Emma to rest, then led Magneto inside. The door closed with a quiet click.
Magneto didn't circle the issue.
"You rescued them because you knew they were mine?"
"No," Richard replied evenly. "I guessed after seeing your reaction."
That much was true. He had saved Wanda and Pietro because the system demanded it. Whether they were Magneto's children had been irrelevant to the mission reward.
Magneto studied him carefully.
"You didn't know beforehand?"
"I'm powerful," Richard said calmly. "Not omniscient. You didn't know they were yours. Why would I?"
Magneto fell silent.
After several seconds, he spoke again. "Regardless, I owe you."
"You don't," Richard replied.
"I'm not accustomed to debt," Magneto continued. "Let me help you recover the Wesley family property. Consider it repayment."
Richard smiled faintly and shook his head.
"When I first met Mystique, I said I would take back what I lost with my own hands. That hasn't changed."
He leaned back slightly.
"And you don't owe me anything. I didn't save them for you."
He paused, then added casually, "Though you might want to revisit certain chapters of your past. It's possible these aren't your only children."
Magneto's eyes narrowed slightly.
There it was again—that unsettling sense that Richard knew more than he should.
"You seem very informed," Magneto said quietly.
"Observation," Richard replied.
After a short silence, Magneto shifted the conversation.
"I didn't come only for that," he said. "The Mutant Affairs Department has formally requested SHIELD's assistance."
Richard didn't react outwardly.
"They're coordinating," Magneto continued. "If the Avengers deploy—even partially—you'll face pressure."
He met Richard's gaze directly.
"I propose we join forces. Together, SHIELD and the Department won't matter. Add the military if they wish."
Richard considered the offer.
He wasn't concerned about escape. Alpha-level teleportation alone ensured that no conventional containment strategy could permanently hold him. Even without alliance, survival was guaranteed.
"I'm not interested in alliances right now," Richard said at last.
Magneto frowned slightly. "Confidence is admirable. Overconfidence is fatal."
"I'll manage," Richard replied.
Magneto watched him for a moment longer before placing a simple business card on the desk.
"My offer stands. Call if you reconsider."
He turned and left.
An hour later, Magneto demonstrated that persuasion was one of his subtler talents. Wanda and Pietro, initially guarded, gradually softened under his words. Truth, emotion, and shared history blended convincingly.
By the time he prepared to depart, they had agreed to accompany him to the Brotherhood's headquarters.
Before they exited, Richard spoke.
"One suggestion," he said calmly. "The future of mutants can't rest on one man's shoulders."
Magneto paused.
"You want equality," Richard continued. "You want an end to discrimination. That won't happen unless mutants themselves choose to resist. Leaders matter. But collective will matters more."
He met Magneto's eyes.
"If I were you, I'd spend time with family. Not waste effort saving people who refuse to stand."
Magneto smiled faintly.
"Should I interpret that as you handling the rest?"
"No," Richard said evenly. "I'm saying be a father."
Magneto said nothing more.
He left with Wanda and Pietro.
After they were gone, Emma stood beside Richard.
"You plan to face this alone?"
"Yes."
"I can help."
"No," he replied. "I'm not weak enough to hide behind you."
Emma studied him carefully.
"Then come back," she said quietly. "If you don't, I'll show Washington what an Alpha-level telepath can do when she stops caring."
Richard smirked slightly. "They're not qualified to kill me."
He pulled her closer and led her toward the bedroom.
…
The next day at noon, Richard wore a custom-tailored black suit. Clean lines. Silver hair unhidden.
He teleported Emma back to her New York penthouse.
Then he teleported again.
Washington, D.C.
The headquarters of the Mutant Affairs Department stood imposing and heavily guarded.
Richard appeared directly outside the front gate.
The guards recognized him instantly.
Alarms erupted.
He made no attempt to stop them.
Instead, he summoned the Authentic Blade.
He held it lightly and spoke in a calm voice, almost conversational.
"Old friend. Let's begin."
He tapped the ground lightly and launched forward like a missile.
At one hundred meters from the building, he raised the blade.
"God Avoidance."
Silver-white arcs of condensed magical energy crawled across the blade's surface—not true lightning, but compressed mana manifesting in violent form.
He swung.
An invisible wave tore forward.
There was no explosion.
No dramatic flare.
Just a clean line.
The reinforced concrete headquarters split as though it were soft fruit. The upper structure sheared off along a perfectly smooth plane.
For a second, silence.
Then gravity claimed the severed mass.
The top half of the building slid and collapsed downward in catastrophic slow motion.
Agents inside never had time to react.
After three months of being hunted, Richard had arrived alone in Washington.
And with a single strike, he opened the war himself.
.....
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