"When did this happen?" Charles frowned, then asked, "It sounds like you've run into something you can't solve."
"Ah… kind of. In the future there's a machine called a Sentinel. Nobody can beat them." In Saitama's eyes, those so-called tin cans weren't much to look at. But to other mutants, the Sentinels were nearly invincible.
As long as you can't destroy them outright, they keep adapting and growing stronger.
"Sentinels?" Charles's brows drew tighter. "And how does that relate to you coming here?"
Saitama scratched his head. Only then did he remember what Erik had told him to bring… He pulled out his phone, tapped around, and played a video. "Watch this and you'll get it."
"Hey… Charles."
Erik's face filled the screen.
"Wait… you aren't—" Charles blanched. Of course he recognized the man in the video: his adversary and his closest friend—Magneto.
"I don't know where you and I stand at that point in time," Erik said with a sigh, "but listen. We're at the brink. If you don't stop what's about to happen, we're facing catastrophe." His tone hardened. "Fifty years from now, mutants are driven to extinction. I'm not exaggerating."
Charles looked from the strange device to the aged face of Erik in the footage. Everything suggested Saitama was telling the truth.
"In fifty years, a man named Bolivar Trask completes the Sentinel program," Erik went on. "They'll wipe us out with ease. So you must act now to change it. Not for you or me—for our entire people. Do you understand?" His voice was grave.
Charles's expression turned solemn. He did understand. If a crisis like that truly loomed, then the grudge between the two of them wasn't worth mentioning. There was no blood feud between them to begin with; in fact, their goal had always been the same.
Charles favored coexistence and cooperation.
Erik favored forcing acceptance—if you won't agree, I'll make you submit.
But if survival itself was on the line, there was nothing left to argue about.
"Listen," Erik continued. "Maybe the initial targets are us. But according to our intel, the Sentinels are already learning to identify ordinary human genes. If this continues, humans who carry dormant mutant potential—and even ordinary people who might produce mutant children—will all become casualties. Do you see? The world will end up in hands far worse than mine."
So the top priority was to stop it from ever happening.
When Erik finished laying out the cause and effect, Charles fell silent in thought. He had assumed Erik wanted Trask dead—yet the plan was the opposite: protect the man.
Right. To save the future, they had to keep Bolivar alive and stop Mystique from being captured.
If Mystique's DNA was never obtained, the adaptive Sentinels would never be perfected.
On paper, it sounded simple: stop Mystique.
But would Mystique really listen to Charles?
Definitely not. Then should they just arrest her?
Easier said than done. If Mystique decided to disappear, pinning her down would be nearly impossible—maybe completely impossible.
Mystique's power was mimicry.
She could only imitate human forms—but that was more than enough. Dive into a crowd and she'd vanish from sight.
"That's the biggest headache," Charles admitted, a trace of defeat on his face. "I want to help you. But the truth is… her heart and soul already belong to someone else. She won't listen to me."
He hadn't yet realized that in the years to come, Mystique would truly stand opposed to him.
Between Erik, Mystique, and Charles… the ties were complicated. Mystique once harbored feelings for Charles, but he had only ever regarded her like a younger sister. After a single bitter misunderstanding, she came to believe he despised her blue skin. So she left with Erik, who insisted she should remain exactly as she was.
Call Erik a liar who exploited her feelings, or call him the man who took responsibility—it didn't matter. What was certain was this: his words carried more weight with her than Charles's.
Mystique was far more willing to heed Erik.
"So our next move is getting Erik out," Hank said, finally piecing it together. Smart as he was, he'd grasped the chain of events, unbelievable as time-travel sounded.
"We don't have a choice," Charles said, helpless. "We get the old man out first."
"Prison?" Saitama blinked.
"Yes. Prison. Two months ago, Erik tried to assassinate the President and failed. He's locked up in a sea-floor facility now," Charles said, exasperated.
"I see." Saitama nodded, still a bit blank. He knew a 'President' was a national leader, but, honestly, he had zero sense for that sort of thing. In his world, any city could be wiped out at any time. Even the city where the Hero Association sat could plunge into crisis without warning. Counting on the government? Yeah, no.
To this day, Saitama didn't even know who ran his own country…
It sounded like a joke—but it was the truth.
(End of Chapter)
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