"I meant prove to me how it helps us—the poor mutants, the ones who've been oppressed," she said, her voice sharp, eyes challenging.
Max looked at her with calm intensity. "Hmm… for that, all I can say is: go. Live in my world. Find out for yourself."
She stared at him a moment longer, then gave a slow nod. "Fine. But until I find out you're not lying…" —she pointed at Apocalypse's unconscious form— "…he won't die."
"Don't try to stop me, woman," Max warned, his tone dropping into something more dangerous.
Nightmare Woman faltered slightly—her lion fading as she sank to one knee, a sudden weight in her chest. She looked up at him, confused.
Max was standing over her now, calm but resolute. "Just because I let you speak doesn't mean I kneel to you."
He raised his hand—and in a flash of black and silver light, Apocalypse's body, once sealed and dormant, simply disintegrated. Not a trace left behind. Not even ashes.
"No second chances," Max said coldly.
She screamed, rage and sorrow pouring from her in waves, the Annihilation Force flaring wildly—but she didn't strike. Her power surged, but her will trembled.
"You said—"
"I said if he rose again with blood in his heart, I'd end it," Max cut in. "But I saw it. I saw through his threads. He would've torn this world apart again. I made the call."
"You… monster…" she whispered.
"No," Max replied quietly. "I'm the firewall. The failsafe. The one who stops monsters before they become disasters."
He turned away from her, raising a single hand—and with a pulse of layered energy, a portal cracked open in the air behind him. Not to a battlefield, not to some divine realm…
…but to a house.
A simple place. Warm lights inside. A wind chime danced on the porch. Peace.
"Just go," Max said without looking back. "Live in my world."
She hesitated.
"You'll see," he continued, voice low. "Unlike him—whose literal name is Apocalypse—I actually care about peace. About people like you. The ones who were stepped on, forgotten."
He glanced at her over his shoulder.
"I built a world where even the broken can laugh again. Where everyone's free. Even if…" —his voice tightened slightly— "…even if it's nothing but a grand illusion."
She stared into the portal. What she saw beyond it wasn't power or paradise. It was kids playing. Old mutants sipping tea on balconies. Music in the air. Mutants of all shapes and sizes—smiling.
"What is this?" she asked, stepping cautiously through the portal. Her voice echoed softly against the breeze.
Max stood beside her, hands in his pockets, eyes watching the horizon of this strange yet serene dimension. The sky here shimmered between gold and violet. Mountains floated lazily in the distance, and mutant children laughed somewhere unseen.
"Aside from the game I built?" Max said, his voice calm. "This is something else. A separate world. A sanctuary dimension. I made it myself after I discovered what mutants like you were going through."
He looked around—not with pride, but with quiet resolve.
"A place for those with power. Those who were lost. Those the world didn't want."
She blinked, the weight of the calm pressing against her war-hardened instincts.
"You made… this?"
"Yeah. Piece by piece. Soul by soul," Max said. "Every mutant I found, I gave them a chance to live here. Not to fight. Just to live."
As she walked farther in, she noticed: no one wore battle armor. There were no ranks. No sides. Just people—rebuilding, painting, tending gardens, flying freely through the skies.
Mutants, living like humans never let them.
Over time… Max had saved many.
And now, maybe, her too.
She didn't speak right away. But the lion force inside her, the black starlit flame of Annihilation, dimmed.
For the first time, she wondered…
Maybe she didn't have to destroy everything to make things better.
Maybe creation was stronger.
"I've also installed hundreds of Diving Pods here," Max added, walking toward a structure lined with sleek, capsule-like machines glowing with soft blue lights. "So anyone who wants to socialize or experience more powers… can enter my game world and live freely with others."
She followed him, staring at the rows of pods in disbelief. Each one hummed softly, waiting for a user.
"When did you even do all this?" she asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Max shrugged with a small smile. "It started a while ago. I found some old tech stashed deep beneath the Hellfire Club's vaults. They had data… experiments on mutants. Records of their powers, weaknesses, potential uses. But they only valued the ones they could control—the ones with 'usable' powers."
He turned to face her.
"But I don't see power as something to be exploited. I see it as something to be nurtured. They discarded the weak. I saved them."
Her gaze shifted from the pods to his face. There was no arrogance there. Just truth. And maybe… a little pain.
"So, even the powerless mutants... the forgotten ones... you gave them a life?" she asked, almost a whisper.
"No one should be discarded," Max said simply. "Not in my world."
"You should lead them now," Max said softly, glancing toward the pods and then back at her. "They're lost. Mutants with weaker powers, cast out by the world. But with you as their leader… they might finally have a chance at a real life. Maybe even find some purpose."
She hesitated, her eyes flickering with emotion.
Max stepped closer and gently reached for her hand. A soft glow pulsed from his fingertips as he etched a glowing rune across her palm—an intricate mark, shifting with living energy.
"Just focus on it," he said. "It's linked to my world. This rune will let you travel freely between here and there-In real world. You'll be able to move between them—and speak across them."
She stared at the rune, then back at Max.
"And me?" she asked, her voice uncertain.
"I'm leaving," Max said, turning away with a small smirk. "Had enough excitement for one day."
He raised his hand, a portal spiraling open beside him.
"Make something good out of this," he said over his shoulder. "I believe you can."
And with that, he stepped into the portal—and vanished.
The room was quiet, save for the hum of the pods. She looked down at the rune glowing softly in her hand… still unsure of what to say. Or feel.
But somewhere, deep inside, a spark had lit.
***
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