Unseen by anyone below, high above the floor of the ruined church, three figures stood on a narrow beam, veiled behind an invisible magical barrier.
Joseph. Magneto. Mystique.
They watched silently as the chaos unfolded beneath them. Though the church echoed with faint shouts and gunfire, the trio stood in perfect calm, the transparent barrier around them acting as both shield and silencer. From the outside, they were completely invisible—inaudible, undetectable, removed from the world even as they observed it with razor-sharp clarity.
Magneto's gaze flicked down, his expression contorted with disbelief and awe.
"So Wilhelm Stryker… was your true target all along?"
Compared to his ragged state just days ago—fresh out of a military prison—Magneto now looked more alert, more centered. Yet despite the recovery of his strength, his mind was still lagging behind Joseph's machinations. His voice carried the unmistakable tone of someone who was trying to catch up but already suspected they were several steps behind.
Joseph offered a slight smile, hands tucked behind his back.
"You're beginning to understand."
"You manipulated the media," Magneto continued, brow furrowed. "You used the Global Daily's live broadcast to show the world that it was Wilhelm Stryker who controlled Nightcrawler and sent him to assassinate the President."
Joseph nodded slightly, his eyes still locked on the scene below. The live footage, the timely intervention, the NYPD's presence—it all fit like puzzle pieces.
"And by bringing the NYPD into the operation," Joseph added, "you gave the event an official legitimacy. Even skeptics will find it hard to dismiss when it's backed by the city's own law enforcement."
Magneto let out a low breath.
"This... this isn't just about exposing Stryker. You've set it up so the military can't offer any explanation. They'll be too busy facing backlash from the White House, the Senate, and the press. The whole country's going to eat them alive over this."
Mystique, standing beside them with her arms crossed, narrowed her eyes.
"The military manipulating Mutants to assassinate the President… If that becomes public knowledge, it won't just be a scandal. It'll be political detonation."
"Exactly," Magneto said. "The entire system will start fracturing. While the military and politicians tear each other apart, Mutants—for once—will be cleared of suspicion. Maybe even pitied."
"And then," Joseph said quietly, "people will begin to ask themselves something important: Were all the other Mutant-related attacks in recent years also orchestrated from the shadows?"
Mystique's face changed. Each sentence from Joseph was like a strike against everything she had believed. Every word peeled away years of hard-formed assumptions.
"Are we... not the villains, then?" she whispered. "Have we just been scapegoats all this time?"
Joseph nodded again.
"Not everyone is out to exterminate us. If they were, the Mutant Registration Act would've passed long ago. There are divides even among humans—and our goal is to understand those divides, and use them."
He clasped his hands together, his tone growing firm, yet oddly gentle.
"There's an old saying from the East: All the prosperity in the world is for profit; all the turmoil is for gain. Politicians who promote Mutant registration aren't always doing it out of hatred. Sometimes, it's just a way to win votes."
"And those who oppose it?" Magneto asked, his tone guarded.
"They may not genuinely support us either. But their goals align with ours. That's enough. We don't need every human to love us—we just need enough of them to believe that we are worth keeping alive."
Joseph turned, his eyes gleaming with purpose.
"We don't have to wage war against the entire human race. That's a fight we can't win. But against people like Wilhelm Stryker? We fight them to the end."
"And the rest?"
"We divide them. We win them over. We lift them up as allies. Some may even become our spokespeople."
Magneto and Mystique fell into stunned silence. They had fought for decades with fire and steel, trying to force the world to accept Mutants through power. Yet Joseph's soft-spoken manipulations—quiet and deliberate—were accomplishing more than any of their battles.
Magneto muttered, "This is how you convinced Charles, isn't it?"
Joseph didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Magneto followed his gaze to the captured NYPD agents on the floor below, specifically focusing on a woman handcuffed near the front.
"That one… Catherine Beckett. You said she's a Delta-class Mutant?"
"Yes," Joseph replied. "Her power is minimal. But her brain development is significantly beyond average."
He paused, then added, "Not just her. Every one of those agents she commands is also Delta-class. They've all hidden their abilities and worked their way into key positions within the NYPD. That's no coincidence."
Magneto's eyes narrowed as the realization settled in.
"You're... showing me the real potential of Delta-class Mutants," he said slowly. "Not their powers—but their integration. Their influence."
"Exactly."
Joseph's tone never changed, but it carried weight. "They don't need to blast walls or bend metal. They sway public opinion. They build reputations. They earn power the slow way... the enduring way."
"By letting Catherine take credit for this operation," he added, "we elevate her in the public eye. Soon, her voice will carry weight. Eventually, she becomes the NYPD's voice for Mutant issues."
"A Mutant… shaping police policy?" Magneto whispered, dazed. "That's how it begins…"
Joseph nodded once more.
"And the reporter?" Magneto pressed. "That Eddie Locke—is he one of us too?"
Joseph chuckled. "No. He's human. But an ambitious one. He was just an accessory this time."
He glanced briefly at the unconscious journalist.
"But perhaps... he could be useful in the future. If something were to bond with him—say, something symbiotic—his importance might grow."
Mystique raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.
Magneto took a long, deep breath.
"I've got more questions, Joseph. How did you know this would happen? How did you know Wilhelm Stryker would use Nightcrawler to lure Charles out?"
"You forget," Joseph said calmly, "I've been watching the prison where you were held."
He turned slightly, addressing Magneto directly.
"Stryker visited you often. He used that special serum derived from his own son's brain fluid to tamper with your mind. You spoke of many things—some of them critical."
Magneto's jaw clenched.
"I told him about Cerebro…"
"Exactly," Joseph said. "Cerebro—the brainwave amplifier—can only be used by Charles. That's why Stryker's real goal was never just Xavier's School. He wants Charles. If he can control Charles… he can exterminate every Mutant on Earth."
"But now Xavier's School has vanished from his radar. He can't find Charles."
Joseph's tone darkened.
"So the only move he has left is baiting him out. By staging a public attack, like a presidential assassination, he forces Charles to act."
Magneto staggered at the implications.
"Then… transferring Xavier's School wasn't just for secrecy. It was to draw Stryker out. He's the snake, and you set the trap."
Joseph didn't answer directly. He just smiled faintly.
"But how could you know he'd use Nightcrawler?" Magneto asked again, his voice rising. "That's the keystone to this entire plan!"
"There are many types of magic," Joseph said quietly. "One of them... is prophecy."
Both Magneto and Mystique stiffened.
"Prophecy magic?" Mystique echoed, her voice disbelieving.
"You saw the future?" Magneto asked.
"Not exactly," Joseph said. "But I saw possibilities. When you watch closely enough, the future tends to whisper its secrets."
Mystique frowned, then shot another question: "But if you knew all this, why let the X-Men issue such a public challenge? Wouldn't that alert Stryker and cause him to cancel the mission?"
Magneto turned his gaze on Joseph as well.
"Not if I was already gone…" he said slowly.
He looked at Joseph again, eyes wide.
"Stryker's original plan hinged on me being the bait to draw Charles out. But once I broke out of prison, he panicked. That's why he was forced to go forward with the assassination plan."
He gave a low, almost admiring chuckle.
"My jailbreak... was part of your plan too, wasn't it?"
Joseph said nothing.
He didn't have to.
Mystique was the one who reacted most visibly. She stared at Joseph with something close to awe.
He hadn't even met Stryker… and yet he had played him like a puppet. Every move accounted for. Every outcome prepared.
She looked down at the chaos below. Everything—from the capture to the ambush—had been accounted for.
"You had the power to destroy Stryker outright," she whispered. "But instead… you let him fall into his own trap. And used it to uplift us. To turn the world's gaze in our favor…"
"To strike the military. To divide humanity. To elevate Catherine. To reshape the X-Men's image. To shift the narrative."
She turned fully toward him, her heart pounding.
"This isn't war… it's something far more terrifying."
"Strategy," Joseph said simply.
Mystique trembled with exhilaration. For the first time in her life, she felt real awe—not for power, but for intellect.
"Then… isn't now the time?" she asked. "If the X-Men have been captured—shouldn't we act now to reveal Stryker's crime?"
Magneto suddenly froze.
Joseph, however, remained calm.
"Who told you," he said softly, "that the X-Men have been captured?"
Mystique blinked.
She turned her gaze downward—and her eyes widened.
Something had changed.
The battle wasn't over yet. In fact, it was just beginning...
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