Inside the United States Department of Defense, the atmosphere was heavy with tension and urgency. Around the massive round table that symbolized the highest authority in the nation sat a gathering of powerful figures—leaders from the military, the CIA, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and several other critical agencies. Every individual in that room held immense influence, people whose decisions could shake the entire country with a single command.
Moments earlier, these officials had concluded an emergency meeting that could alter the course of global history. After intense deliberation, they had reached a unified decision regarding the growing mutant crisis.
"The Russian Federation has agreed with our proposal," the Secretary of Defense announced solemnly to the room. His voice carried the weight of the moment. "We will launch a joint strike against the mutants and eliminate this threat once and for all."
A murmur rippled across the table, though no one voiced opposition. The world had been bracing for confrontation between the two superpowers, yet instead of war between nations, something entirely different had emerged—mutants. Individuals with terrifying and inexplicable powers had suddenly appeared across the globe, forcing humanity to confront a reality no one had anticipated.
The intelligence reports alone were enough to chill even the most hardened officials in the room. A single mutant had reportedly lifted and controlled an entire nuclear submarine as if it were nothing more than a toy. That single incident had shattered the military's assumptions about power and control.
But that was only the beginning of the problem.
Frontline intelligence described mutants capable of flying through the sky, unleashing destructive shockwaves, manipulating oceans, and even commanding storms powerful enough to summon hurricanes. These abilities weren't merely dangerous—they were beyond anything conventional warfare could counter.
Against such individuals, traditional military assets suddenly seemed fragile. Warships, aircraft carriers, missile systems—all the pillars of modern defense—felt laughably inadequate when measured against powers that ignored the basic laws of physics.
The very existence of such a group meant one thing: they were uncontrollable.
And for people who governed nations and commanded armies, an uncontrollable force was the most dangerous thing imaginable.
For the leaders gathered at that table, the conclusion was painfully simple. A threat beyond control had to be eliminated before it grew stronger.
At this moment in history, the two rival superpowers—nations that had spent decades locked in a bitter Cold War—had quietly reached the same decision.
"I still have an operative there," the CIA director said quietly to the Secretary of Defense beside him. His tone was low, almost reluctant, but he said the words anyway.
The Secretary of Defense didn't even look at him.
"It's just an agent."
"She's one of our best agents," the director insisted, though the protest sounded hollow even to his own ears.
The response came without hesitation.
"She'll be considered collateral damage."
Far away from that decision-making table, Eric's cold words hung in the air like a storm cloud. The atmosphere on the beach instantly grew heavy and oppressive.
Until now, the mutants gathered there had focused only on defeating Sebastian Shaw, the Black Emperor. That had been their singular objective, the mission that brought them together. None of them had seriously considered what might happen afterward.
Eric had just forced them to face a cruel possibility.
One by one, the mutants turned their heads toward the fleets floating on the ocean horizon. As they watched, their expressions stiffened in disbelief.
The warships were rotating their massive gun turrets.
And every barrel was pointing directly at them.
Shock flashed across the faces of the mutants. Their expressions darkened rapidly, and the realization settled into their chests like a block of ice.
They had risked their lives confronting the Black Emperor. They had charged into a battle where death was a very real possibility.
Why?
To save the world.
To protect ordinary people from a catastrophe.
And now those same people had turned their weapons on them.
Nothing could feel more bitter than that.
"Charles," Eric said quietly, his voice carrying a restrained fury. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Charles stood nearby with his fingers pressed against his temple, his telepathic abilities stretching outward across the battlefield. His consciousness swept across the minds of the officers commanding both fleets.
When he opened his eyes again, his expression had turned grim.
Eric was right.
Not partially right.
Completely right.
The highest authorities in both countries had issued direct orders. The two fleets had been commanded to cooperate and eliminate every mutant present.
"Moira!" Charles called out immediately.
Moira understood the situation instantly. Among everyone there, she was the only one who held an official government position. If anyone had even the slightest chance of negotiating with the military command, it was her.
Without wasting a second, she sprinted toward the Blackbird jet. Climbing inside, she grabbed the communication equipment and opened a direct channel.
"Fleet Command, this is Team XB-70. Please respond."
Her voice was tense but controlled.
"The beach is secure. Repeat—the beach is secure. Requesting immediate cancellation of the strike."
She waited, gripping the radio tightly.
"Fleet Command, do you copy? Requesting cancellation of the attack!"
Silence answered her.
A moment later, the signal abruptly cut off.
The line had been deliberately terminated.
Moira stared at the receiver for a second, the last sliver of hope draining from her face.
When she stepped back out of the jet, everyone on the beach was already watching her.
Their eyes were filled with desperate expectation. Each of them wanted to believe she had good news.
But Moira could only shake her head slowly.
The despair in her expression said everything.
In that instant, the hearts of the mutants sank to the bottom.
The people they were trying to protect—people they had fought for—had decided they were enemies.
"Fire!"
"Fire!"
Almost simultaneously, the commanders of the two fleets issued their attack orders.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Missiles erupted from the decks of the warships, launching into the sky in dense waves. One after another, they streaked toward the beach where the mutants stood.
The sky quickly filled with them.
The missiles were so numerous and packed so tightly together that they almost seemed to blot out the sunlight above.
The mutants' pupils shrank.
A crushing sense of fear gripped them as they stared upward. Under such overwhelming firepower, even the strongest among them doubted they could survive.
The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet as the roar of engines echoed across the sea.
But one person remained calm.
Rorschach stood quietly among the mutants, his expression steady. With Magneto standing beside them, he saw no reason to panic.
Had everyone forgotten what Magneto could do simply because they were overwhelmed by fear?
Magneto controlled metal.
And every single missile flying toward them contained metal.
In fact, Rorschach found the situation oddly amusing. Whoever had given the order to fire clearly hadn't thought things through.
Eric had just lifted an entire nuclear submarine with one hand. The spectacle had been impossible to miss. There was no way the people aboard those warships hadn't seen it.
And yet they still chose to fire missiles.
Did they not realize what missile warheads were made of?
Launching metal weapons at Magneto was practically the same as committing suicide.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The missiles tore through the air, their thunderous approach growing louder with every second. The oppressive roar pressed down on everyone like a physical weight.
In the mutants' widening eyes, the incoming warheads grew larger and larger.
Finally, they reached the point directly above their heads.
At the last possible moment, Eric calmly raised his hand.
His power surged outward.
Instantly, every missile froze in midair.
It was as if an enormous invisible hand had grabbed them all at once. Hundreds of warheads hung suspended in the sky, completely motionless.
A collective breath escaped from the mutants.
Relief washed over them like a wave.
"My God…"
"How is that possible?"
Across the ocean, sailors and officers aboard the warships stared in stunned disbelief. Many of them rubbed their eyes, convinced they must be hallucinating.
What they were witnessing shattered everything they thought they knew about the world.
The foundation of their understanding—built over decades of science and military doctrine—crumbled in seconds.
But Eric wasn't finished.
With the missiles locked in place, he slowly clenched his hand.
Every warhead in the sky rotated at once.
The noses of the missiles swung around.
And now they were pointing directly at the fleets on the sea.
"Eric, don't!" Charles shouted in alarm, his face suddenly pale.
But Eric seemed not to hear him at all, continuing to control the warheads as he directed them toward the fleet.
.....
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