Chapter 22: Mr. Stryker

Stryker's secret base was hidden beneath Alkali Lake, with its entrance located in the flood discharge channel of the dam. It was deliberately placed in such a dangerous location to prevent potential invasions. If an attack ever occurred, Stryker could simply open the floodgates and unleash a torrent of water to wash away the intruders.

At least, that was the ideal scenario. But if everything always went according to plan, the word "accident" wouldn't exist.

In reality, this was merely the last line of defense against mutants with unpredictable abilities. Stryker's best strategy was to remain hidden. If he couldn't disappear like an invisible man, he had to burrow underground like a mole, erasing all traces of his movements. The further he stayed from people, the better—after all, a single rumor from a nosy bystander or a suspicious glance from the wrong person could undo years of careful planning.

Even so, all his precautions were only partially effective. Hadn't Professor Xavier already sensed something unusual here and sent Logan to investigate? Though, to be fair, Logan wasn't exactly the best scout—he'd made a long trip for nothing.

But for Erik, things were different. Thanks to the invisibility potion he obtained from another world and his magnetic abilities, he only needed to strip down and take a stroll to sneak into the base undetected. Then, with a simple gesture, he disabled the security cameras and unlocked the main gate, allowing his two stunning assistants to lead a group of young mutants straight into Stryker's private fortress.

Just like they were doing now.

The moment Stryker saw the gate inexplicably open, he triggered the alarm, mobilizing the entire base's defenses. But what good would that do? The fortress he was so proud of was nothing but a fragile shell. Once cracked, it exposed the soft, vulnerable flesh beneath—ripe for the mutants to tear apart.

"I like that look in your eyes, William." Erik, now fully clothed, led the way forward. He greeted Stryker as if they were old friends, his voice warm and familiar.

The soldiers gripping their weapons tightened their stances. Though they vastly outnumbered the intruders, they felt no sense of security. As Stryker's personal troops, they were well-acquainted with mutants and their powers. Many had participated in the previous raid on Xavier's school—they had seen firsthand what Erik could do.

And after their last defeat, their polymer-based weapons had become war trophies for the enemy. With their budget stretched thin, all they had left were standard metal firearms. Against the new Magneto, their weapons weren't just useless—they were a liability.

No one wanted to see their own bullets curve mid-air and come flying back at them.

That understanding kept them frozen in place, saving Erik a great deal of effort.

"You've won," Stryker admitted, stepping forward and pushing aside the men shielding him. "I didn't expect you to attack us like this, but listen to me—you mutants may be able to take my life, but you'll never destroy my cause. The military won't stop their research. Humanity will defeat mutants. Sooner or later, you'll all be wiped out."

"Now, now, William. Let's be civil in front of the children," Erik said, unfazed by the weapons aimed at him. He walked forward with the grace of a king inspecting his domain. "I've always believed that our enemies understand us better than anyone else. They study our habits, analyze our weaknesses, and anticipate our every move. That level of obsession is invaluable.

"And when I need to teach a bunch of rookies an important lesson, nothing works better than real experience. But hiring sparring partners is expensive, and the school doesn't have that kind of budget. So, I thought of you."

Erik circled Stryker once before stopping in front of him. He patted the man's shoulder and continued, "I thought of you, William Stryker. I know you're an expert at fighting mutants. That's why I've come here with nothing but good intentions. And in return for my goodwill, I'd like your men to have a little practice match with my students. No stakes—just a friendly competition. You wouldn't refuse, would you?"

If sheer hatred could set a man ablaze, Stryker would have burned Erik to ashes on the spot. But he couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him. He had to swallow his pride and bide his time.

After giving a few orders, his men stepped back, leaving behind only the toughest-looking soldiers. They weren't all large or muscular, but their expressions were resolute.

As professionals, they had long since conquered fear and hesitation. Now, they simply awaited the signal to fight.

"This will just be a training match, correct?" Stryker asked, seeking confirmation.

"Of course," Erik assured him.

"No severe injuries? No deaths?"

"I care about that more than you do."

"And the rules?"

"One-on-one duels, five minutes per match. If a participant falls or surrenders, they lose. If time runs out, it's a draw. Any violations will be punished. My side can use their powers only once per match. Your side gets the same restriction on weapon use. No lethal attacks. My assistants will enforce the rules. Once the match is over, we'll leave."

Stryker considered the conditions. Though not particularly strict, they were reasonable. He agreed.

As the combatants discussed their strategies and prepared for battle, Erik and Stryker—both veterans in their own right—stood to the side, uninterested in the actual fight.

"How did you get in?" Stryker finally asked after a long silence. "Did Charles help you?"

Given his years of experience, Stryker knew better than to waste time on pointless threats. Instead, he focused on gathering useful intelligence.

He had planned countless defensive measures against intrusions, but some attacks simply couldn't be prevented. And the number one threat on that list was mind control.

No fortress, no matter how secure, could withstand betrayal from within.

That's why Stryker feared Xavier more than anyone—even more than Magneto.

So when he saw a group of mutants waltzing into his base without resistance, his first assumption was that Charles had come for revenge.

Erik merely smiled. He had no intention of lying, but if Stryker wanted to jump to conclusions on his own, there was no need to correct him. Secrets were like fine wine—the longer they were kept, the more intoxicating they became.

"You chose a good hiding spot," Erik said, changing the subject. "Secluded and secure. If the dam collapses, you won't even have to pay for a burial plot. You know, property prices have been rising lately—even funerals are getting expensive."

Stryker wasn't fooled by the diversion but chose not to press further.

"I doubt today's incident is isolated. You'll be coming back, won't you? What exactly do you want?"

"Good question. I doubt your base produces chocolate, so what do you think I'm after?" Erik smirked.

Stryker's hands clenched into fists. If he could, he would have shot Erik in the head right then and there. But that wasn't an option.

"You think this place belongs to you?" he growled. "This is military property! I am a U.S. officer!"

"And I'm Magneto." Erik shrugged. "Your point?"

"You mutants are nothing but a disease," Stryker spat. "And I'll dedicate every last breath to wiping you out."

Erik's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Funny. You devoted your whole life to eradicating mutants, but you never realized—you carry the mutant gene yourself. And you passed it on to your son."

Stryker froze. His expression darkened, his rage boiling over.

Erik leaned in slightly. "Tell me, William—did your wife ever mention how much your son looks like you?"

For the first time, Stryker had no response.

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