The island was a canvas of deep green, suffocatingly lush under the tropical sun. Rain was a constant companion here in the Caribbean, feeding the thick jungle that covered nearly all of its 160 square kilometers. A small town, home to most of the island's mutant population, was nestled by a lake on the eastern shore.
At the edge of the jungle, just as dawn began to bleed through the canopy, Sebastian Shaw sat perfectly still on a large rock. In contrast, Azazel paced nervously nearby. Their inside contact, a mutant named Selina, was supposed to have reported back with Magneto's location last night. The silence was unsettling.
"Patience," Shaw said, his voice calm and unbothered. He enjoyed the tension, the feeling of a plan coming together. "Eric is on this island. He isn't going anywhere. Once we know where he is, we only need to hold his attention for a few moments. Then, this entire island will be swallowed by fire." A cruel smile touched his lips as he imagined the scene.
"Our time is short," Azazel countered, his demonic features tight with worry. "The moment he learns about the attack on Xavier's school, he'll be on high alert. I've seen too many perfect plans fail at the last second."
"And what if it does?" Shaw asked, turning to see the surprise on Azazel's face. "The failure here has nothing to do with us. The official story is that the U.S. military, with help from Mexico and Brazil, launched this attack. If they need a scapegoat, it will be the Hellfire Club."
He gave a soft, condescending laugh. "You don't seriously think Eric is clueless about what the Hellfire Club has been doing, do you? He knows. He just doesn't care. Even if this operation is traced back to us, he has bigger problems. The Americans have declared all-out war on mutants. He has to deal with them first. A failure today only benefits us in the long run."
"But our contact... Selina..." Azazel said, glancing toward the distant town.
Shaw cut him off, his voice turning to ice. "We either get her out, or we make sure she can't talk. It's that simple."
"I understand," Azazel replied, a sense of grim relief washing over him. The cold logic was easier to handle than uncertainty.
Just then, a figure darted through the jungle, flying low to the ground. A black-haired woman in a leather jacket and skirt, with two pairs of transparent wings beating silently, landed before them.
"I don't have much time," Selina said, her words rushed. "Magneto will be in the town square in half an hour to observe Sabretooth test the new recruits. He'll take the Southwest Mountain Road to get there. That's your only chance."
"I see," Shaw said, his expression shifting to one of deep concern. It was a mask he wore well. "In thirty minutes, regardless of what happens, you evacuate to the backup location. We'll take you with us if there's time. If not, get out on your own."
"I will," Selina said, visibly moved by his feigned care. She glanced back at the town. "Be careful." With that, she was gone, a faint blur disappearing back into the trees. Staying any longer would risk exposure.
Once she was out of sight, Azazel asked quietly, "Are we really doing this?"
"Of course," Shaw whispered, his eyes fixed on the town. "Why else would we be here? It's been a long time since we last met, dear Eric. I felt I should bring a surprise."
"But your condition..." Azazel said, a flicker of genuine worry in his eyes. He alone knew the price Shaw had paid to be able to confront Magneto.
"I'm fine. I can hold on for another half hour," Shaw replied, his face an emotionless mask. He hadn't moved an inch from the rock, almost as if he were fused to it.
The sky brightened. The sounds of the jungle came alive.
At the exact moment, Shaw's eyes snapped open. "It's time. Let's go."
Azazel moved to his side and solemnly placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt solid flesh and breathed a sigh of relief. A flash of scarlet light enveloped them, and they vanished.
Meanwhile, on the Southwest Mountain Road, Magneto walked with a grave expression, his helmet concealing his features. He lived in the jungle, away from the main town, believing his constant presence made the younger mutants uneasy. The most powerful members of the Brotherhood lived near him, drawn to his strength and wisdom. He was their mentor, their leader, and they followed him with unwavering loyalty. He had built this utopia not just as a fortress, but as a community.
His mind was on the world outside. He knew the dangers they faced, the hatred that festered. A single leak could bring destruction down upon them all. Part of his daily routine was to meet every new mutant who arrived on the island. He had to personally vet them, feel for their intentions, and ensure they weren't carrying any tracking devices. His magnetic sense was foolproof; no technology could hide from it. As he walked, he subtly tapped into the Earth's magnetic field, letting it pull him forward, each step covering several meters effortlessly. It kept him connected, attuned to the planet itself.
He passed the island's only dock. The massive, old submarine that was usually moored there was gone, likely out on a mission, ferrying more desperate mutants to safety.
Rounding a bend in the path, with the lakeside town now in view a few kilometers away, a flicker of ease settled in his heart. The final stretch was always the safest.
But in that brief moment of relaxation, a figure appeared at the corner ahead.
Magneto stopped dead.
"Hello, Eric," Sebastian Shaw said with a friendly, yet utterly false, smile. "I heard you've been looking for me. So, here I am." He was sitting on a stone, just as he had been in the jungle, as if the man and the rock were one inseparable object.
"Shaw!" Magneto breathed, disbelief warring with rage. His hands shot up, his power lashing out—but nothing happened. Here, on this island rich with magnetic ore where his power should be absolute, it simply fizzled out, useless against the man on the rock.
Shaw watched, his face calm, as if he'd expected it. "You've seen me now. So, farewell, Eric."
As he spoke, a scarlet blur appeared behind Magneto. Azazel, armed with two long, serrated knives, lunged forward, aiming to run him through.
But the expected shock and hesitation never came. In a movement too fast to follow, Magneto spun, not to dodge, but to act. His bare hands clamped down on the incoming blades, stopping them instantly.
Shaw's calm shattered. His eyes went wide with realization and fury.
"No," he yelled. "You're not Eric!"