Romulus' Den – Unknown Location
The vat glowed orange, filling the stone hall with the smell of scorched metal. Daken writhed as the serum seared through his veins, claws snapping out with wet clicks. His scream was high and raw, but Romulus only paced, grinning like a wolf savoring the hunt.
"Pain is the teacher," he said softly, as if comforting a child. "Your father survived fire and steel. You will surpass him, boy. You will become my perfect predator."
Scientists glanced at each other, terror in their eyes. One dropped a vial, and Romulus' growl silenced him. The sound was promise enough — failure meant death.
Needles pumped glowing alloy into Daken's bones. His body buckled, muscles straining, but Romulus leaned close, whispering:
"Sing for me. Every scream is proof you're stronger than the last."
Essex's Laboratory – Subterranean Vaults
Dr. Nathaniel Essex's footsteps echoed in a rhythm too precise to be natural. He moved past endless pods, each one a frozen story: genetic experiments, half-finished soldiers, failed hosts.
He stopped at one — a scarred man suspended in fluid, silver streaking black hair. His chest rose and fell slowly, scars crisscrossing his arms like barbed wire burns.
Eric Lensherr. The true Magneto.
Essex's reflection overlapped the pod. His voice was low, clinical.
"HYDRA broke you down with crude serums. I rebuilt you with precision. TURBO resonance. A Phoenix-derived splice. Your body resisted decay, but adaptation… adaptation takes time."
Eric's hand twitched in the fluid. A ripple of magnetic force rattled nearby tools.
Essex smiled faintly.
"Yes. The scars remain, but scars are scripture. You'll rise stronger for them."
The Unexpected Variable
Alarms shrieked. Essex turned, eyebrows lifting — not in panic, but in mild irritation.
A pod three rows down split open, steam billowing as restraints snapped. A young woman collapsed onto the floor, coughing. Green hair plastered against her cheeks, eyes glowing faint emerald.
Lorna Dane.
Her powers burst free before Essex's predictions. She screamed, and the room obeyed — metal warped, shackles tore loose, glass cracked under magnetic pressure.
Technicians fled. Essex simply adjusted his cufflinks.
"Ah. A generation's metabolism. Always faster. My mistake."
The ceiling tore open as magnetic force hurled beams skyward. Lorna rose in a storm of steel and sparks, emerald light blazing. In a blink, she was gone — swallowed by the night above.
Essex watched her vanish, then tapped a control pad. Screens lit up across the chamber, tracking drones already in pursuit.
"Let her run. My trackers are in her blood. Even in rebellion, she serves."
Steel – Horizon Desert Safehouse
A secure ping rattled Steel's comms.
ALERT:Unclassified mutant anomaly detected. Coordinates attached. Subject power fluctuation at critical levels. Investigate immediately.
No name. No face. Just raw data.
Steel's eyes narrowed, voice low.
"…An anomaly? That's all you'll give me?"
He stared out at the desert horizon, unease crawling up his spine. Whoever it was, the signal screamed danger. And if Essex was involved — Steel clenched his fist. He couldn't afford to be late.
Essex's Final Reflection
The vault calmed again, though faint hums of magnetic energy still whispered through the air. Essex turned back to Eric's pod, his tone almost reverent.
"Your daughter adapts quicker than I accounted for. Interesting. But blood ties are threads, and threads always return to the weave."
Eric's eyes flickered behind closed lids. A tremor rolled through the pod as metal bent toward his fingers.
Essex's smile widened.
"Yes. You feel her, don't you? That pull in the marrow. Father and daughter. Two magnets destined to clash — and I, the one who holds the compass."
He pressed a hand to the glass.
"And when you are ready… not even Apocalypse will stand between us."
Deadpool Meta-cut:
"Plot twist bingo time! Lorna breaks out early, Magneto's basically in a Phoenix-flavored tanning bed, and Steel gets the world's vaguest text message. 'Subject unstable.' Thanks, Captain Obvious! Meanwhile Essex is just cool with it — like the guy who watches his lab burn and says, 'Enh, I've got insurance.' You know this is going off the rails fast."