Joseph hadn't expected things to end… quite like this.
Not with the sound of fleeing helicopters and crashing military protocol.
Not with the White Queen, freshly freed, sipping a carton of milk in silence.
And certainly not with the lingering aftertaste of their strange but oddly peaceful exchange—if one could even call it that.
Though it was only a transaction, nothing more, and there was no emotional connection between them, Emma Frost—the infamous White Queen—still found herself oddly content. She had been forced to take a long, scalding hot bath before Joseph even allowed her to speak freely, and she'd only been offered milk afterward, nothing else.
Yet somehow, that bath had washed away more than just physical filth.
Years of imprisonment. Years of humiliation. Years of silence.
And now? A clean room, warm water summoned with a flick of Joseph's hand, a portal opened at his will, and his terrifying control over elemental forces…
It all seemed too surreal.
Joseph was no ordinary Mutant.
Compared to someone like Sebastian Shaw, once the Hellfire Club's leader and a man Emma had once admired, Joseph made him look like a schoolyard bully.
She didn't say it aloud, but in her heart, a thought had quietly formed:
"He is worth following."
She had never been the type to keep promises she didn't benefit from. From the moment she offered her loyalty, she was already preparing to turn on him when it suited her.
But then…
She saw Magneto.
And Mystique.
And saw the way they looked at Joseph.
Not as peers.
Not even as allies.
But with a trace of awe.
It was hidden well—especially by Magneto, whose pride was forged of iron—but it was there. The flicker in the eyes, the guarded respect in his tone.
"God... am I dreaming?" Emma whispered to herself.
"Did Magneto just… bow to someone younger than my students?"
She was trying to catch up, trying to process the seismic shift unfolding before her.
"What the hell happened while I was locked away?"
She thought she understood power. She thought she understood who held the strings in the world of Mutants.
Clearly, she was wrong.
The world had changed—and Joseph was at the center of it.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Magneto's voice cut through the mountain air.
"You're not concerned about the situation over there?"
The question was directed at Joseph, who stood at the edge of a hillside overlooking Alkali Lake, where smoke still rose from the exposed Weapon X facility. From here, they had a perfect view of the dam, the roadways, and the reinforcements flooding in.
Military vehicles. Armored carriers. Black choppers in tight formation.
Joseph yawned.
"No need," he said, stretching like he'd just finished a nap. "At this point, it's out of our hands. Let the world deal with itself for once."
Magneto gave a snort.
"The world? Joseph, you know full well politics is filth. The military could've planned the assassination of the President, and if the price is right, the White House would still shake hands with them over coffee."
"And?" Joseph turned, smiling. "That doesn't change anything."
He gestured casually toward the dam.
"Wilhelm Stryker is done. Over a hundred Mutants were rescued. The X-Men's image is better than it's ever been. Public opinion is shifting. The narrative is changing."
He looked Magneto in the eye.
"We've already won."
Magneto narrowed his eyes.
But Joseph didn't stop.
"And tell me, do you really believe—after all this—that the political rift between the White House and the military can be healed?"
The words struck home.
Magneto looked away, staring into the growing swarm of military vehicles.
He knew Joseph was right.
Even if the White House and Pentagon tried to cover it up—even if backroom deals were cut, and apologies made—the cracks had already formed.
The betrayal was public.
The mutant-hunting project had been exposed live to millions.
And no matter how much the government tried to save face, a line had been crossed.
Trust would be shattered for years.
And the Mutants?
They would now have time. Space. Breathing room to grow.
"So that's why you let Stryker live," Magneto said at last.
Joseph's expression turned serious.
"He's as good as dead. But before he dies, he'll serve one last purpose—on trial, in court, in front of every screen on the planet."
He turned to face both Magneto and Mystique.
"Killing him means nothing. But letting the world watch him fall? That changes everything."
"They won't sympathize with us for bombs or speeches. But for truth?" He looked back at the dam. "They'll march with us."
Magneto sighed.
He hadn't unleashed any chaos at the base earlier for this very reason. He understood the brilliance of Joseph's approach—even if it wasn't one he would have chosen himself.
After a pause, Magneto asked what seemed like a trivial question.
"So... what's next?"
Joseph tilted his head.
"Xavier's School needs to step into the sun."
He turned toward Magneto, voice steady.
"And you'll come with me. To meet Charles."
Magneto blinked.
Not a request. A statement.
There was a long silence.
Then, slowly, Magneto nodded.
And from beside him, Mystique's eyes widened.
She hadn't heard the words yet, but she understood what they meant.
Magneto… was accepting Joseph's leadership.
This proud man, who once declared war on humanity, who would bow to no one, was now offering his strength to someone half his age.
Mystique's breath caught in her throat.
"Eric…" she whispered.
He didn't reply.
But she could see it.
For all his stubbornness—for all his hatred—Magneto had always wanted one thing above all: a future for Mutants.
And now, he saw it in Joseph.
He might not agree with Joseph's every belief. He might not let go of his vision for Mutant supremacy.
But for now…
He would follow.
"Raven? Are you alright?" Emma's voice broke in, puzzled by Mystique's sudden emotional shift.
Mystique didn't answer.
She was still watching Magneto—and remembering all the battles, all the sacrifices, all the broken promises that had led them to this moment.
And now, the man who once believed no one was worthy of leading Mutants…
Had found someone who was.
Joseph looked out toward the military convoys drawing closer.
His expression didn't change.
"Let them come," he murmured. "It no longer matters."
Beside him, Magneto frowned. "You say it's over, but… is it?"
Joseph turned, one eyebrow raised.
"Over?" he repeated. "Eric…"
He smiled faintly, eyes glittering with quiet fire.
"…it's only just begun."
Magneto and Mystique exchanged a glance.
And for the first time in their long lives…
They felt it.
The world was no longer their battlefield.
It was Joseph's.
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