Pumpkin Bombs

The soft glow of tactical monitors cast a cold light across Magneto's face as he leaned back in his chair, the Cerebro blueprints sprawled before him. Mystique stood across from him, arms crossed, her sharp blue features betraying curiosity and skepticism.

"So," Mystique began, her voice laced with dry amusement, "you have the blueprints. You've explained the device. Now tell me how we plan to lure these mutant-hating humans into your trap. It's not as though they'll walk into it willingly."

Magneto's expression hardened into a sly smirk. "We don't need them to come willingly, Mystique. We simply need the right catalyst. And I've identified precisely the one we need: a young mutant named Rogue."

Mystique raised an eyebrow. "Rogue? Why her?"

"She has the ability to absorb the life force and powers of others," Magneto said, steepling his fingers. "She's young, impressionable, and desperately seeking a place to belong. Charles offers her sanctuary, but sanctuary breeds vulnerability. With her powers... she can transfer my abilities to herself and power the machine. While I stay safe, she will carry the burden."

Mystique let out a low whistle. "So, we sacrifice the girl and keep you intact? A win-win for you."

Magneto's eyes narrowed. "Her sacrifice will be for the greater good of mutantkind. And as for retrieving her, that will be your task."

Mystique tilted her head. "Go on."

"You will infiltrate the school once again," Magneto explained, leaning forward. "This time, you will pose as a potential love interest—a peer. Someone she would trust. Rogue is insecure, uncertain of her place in this world. We will exploit that."

"And once I gain her trust?" Mystique asked, her voice tinged with skepticism.

"Then," Magneto said with a faint smile, "you will take on the appearance of one Bobby Drake."

Mystique blinked. "The icy kid? Really?"

"Precisely," Magneto said. "Young Rogue has a schoolgirl infatuation with him, does she not? You will feed her insecurities by sending her a message—a message that convinces her the people she trusts most have grown tired of her presence. That she does not belong at Xavier's."

Mystique's lips curled into a grin. "And you think she'll just walk out after one fake love letter and some hurt feelings?"

Magneto's tone turned cold. "Hurt feelings have made entire nations crumble. Rogue is fragile, Mystique. She will leave the safety of the mansion, and when she does, I will be there to intercept her."

Magneto's grin widened. "It's poetic, isn't it? The girl running away, trying to escape her demons, only to find herself in the arms of the Brotherhood. She'll think she's making her own choices, but in reality, every step she takes will lead her right into my hands."

Mystique chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way, Erik, it almost sounds romantic."

"It's not romance, Mystique. It's strategy," Magneto said sharply, though a faint smirk lingered. "Do not mistake my compassion for sentimentality. This is about power."

Mystique watched him for a moment, then shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll prepare. But don't blame me if her taste in love letters is questionable."

Magneto nodded, then turned back to the blueprints. "And Mystique? This time, wear the sunglasses."

Mystique rolled her eyes but smirked. "Yes, yes. Men and their damn mirrored sunglasses."

The bustling chaos of the World Unity Fair filled the air as Wanda Maximoff and Gwen Stacy stepped onto the crowded scene. Wanda, dressed in her sleek black symbiote suit, carried herself with an air of relaxed confidence, the Chitauri Scepter resting casually in her hand. Beside her, Gwen, clad in her Spider-Woman suit, adjusted her mask slightly as she surveyed the crowd. They are here after receiving a prediction from Jarvis that the Green Goblin would be here based off his habit of following around those close to Gwen.

"Does it ever occur to you how many people show up to these fairs just to be potential collateral damage?" Wanda asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Pretty much every day," Gwen replied, glancing over the crowd. "But hey, nothing says 'human optimism' like throwing a party when supervillains exist."

Wanda smirked. "Speaking of which, where's our green-faced friend? I'd hate for him to miss his big debut."

Before Gwen could respond, her gaze snapped to the side, and her heart dropped. There, near the center of the fair, was Mary Jane Watson—her so-called "best friend"—clad in a glittering cocktail dress and gesticulating wildly at the crowd. Nearby, the Green Goblin's hoverboard zipped into view, releasing a trail of pumpkin bombs that began scattering panicked fairgoers.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Gwen muttered under her breath.

"What?" Wanda asked, following Gwen's line of sight. She raised an eyebrow. "Is that your friend? The one you keep calling a—"

"Yes," Gwen cut in quickly. "And she's about to get blown up."

The Green Goblin cackled as one of his pumpkin bombs arced through the air toward MJ. Without hesitation, Gwen leaped into action, web-slinging across the fairgrounds. Wanda watched for a moment, amused, before gripping the Chitauri Scepter and twirling it like a baseball bat.

The Green Goblin's cackling laugh rang out over the chaos as his pumpkin bombs rained down. Wanda stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as one of the bombs hurtled toward her. She adjusted her grip on the Chitauri Scepter, tilting her head slightly.

"Pumpkin bombs? Really?" she muttered. "Halloween wannabe."

She swung the scepter like a bat, striking the bomb with a satisfying CRACK. It flew back toward the Goblin's glider, exploding directly on top of him in a fiery blast. Smoke billowed out in every direction, and the Green Goblin emerged from the cloud, coughing out smoke and waving his hand to clear the air.

"Well, that was rude!" he rasped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Who hits a guy's toys back at him? Don't you know it's bad manners?"

Wanda smirked. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were handing out party favors."

The Goblin pointed at her with a crooked finger, still perched on his damaged glider. "You're gonna regret that, Red. No one mocks the Goblin's genius!"

"Sure," Wanda said dryly, spinning the scepter in her hand. "And no one mocks your fashion sense either. Green and purple? Bold choice."

The Goblin let out a shrill laugh, his glider sputtering as he tried to steady it. "Oh, you'll pay for that, you snarky witch!"

Wanda's smirk deepened. "Can't wait."

Meanwhile, Gwen landed gracefully near MJ, scooping her up just as another pumpkin bomb detonated nearby. The force of the blast sent a wave of debris flying, splattering MJ's dress with dust and her now-empty drink.

MJ flailed in Gwen's arms, glaring up at her. "Are you serious right now?!"

Gwen blinked, confused. "Uh... you're welcome?"

MJ huffed, looking down at her dress. "You stupid spider bitch! You wrecked my dress, spilled my drink, and ruined my hair! Do you have any idea how hard it is to look this good in public?"

Gwen stared at her in disbelief. "You were about to die!"

MJ rolled her eyes. "And now I'm going to die of embarrassment. How am I supposed to make a good impression on Harry Osborne looking like this? He's not going to marry me without a prenuptial agreement if I look like a mess!"

"Wow," Gwen muttered. "Your priorities are... something else."

As MJ continued her tirade, Wanda approached casually, having sent several more pumpkin bombs hurtling back at the Goblin. She watched the scene unfold with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused by Gwen's predicament.

"You were right," Wanda said to Gwen with a smirk. "Your friend really is a bitch."

Hearing this, MJ perked up, flipping her hair dramatically. "Who's a bitch? I love gossip!"

Gwen groaned, dragging a hand down her mask. "Not now, lady."

MJ, however, was already scanning the crowd, her excitement growing. "Come on, who is it? Is it Felicia? I bet it's Felicia. I always knew she was a snake."

Wanda ignored her, spinning the Chitauri Scepter like a baton before launching another bomb straight at the Green Goblin. The resulting explosion engulfed him in a cloud of fiery debris, silencing his cackling laugh.

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