chapter 17

Another person with Magneto's experience—surviving a concentration camp, enduring relentless hostility, and losing his wife to violence—would likely be even more extreme than he is. Among all of Magneto's memories, the one he's least willing to revisit is undoubtedly his time in that concentration camp.

During that period, not only was he coerced into using his powers, but he was also subjected to inhumane experimentation. It was a hellish nightmare that left lasting scars on his soul.

When Robert took out the syringe that resembled a bullet, Magneto's traumatic childhood memories surged back with a vengeance. His heart tightened, and for the first time in a long while, apprehension clouded his gaze.

"Don't worry. This is just to remove your abilities," Robert said with a calm smile.

To Magneto, that smile resembled something more sinister—like the grin of a devil about to steal his soul.

"You can't do it," Magneto said, his voice quiet but firm. "You can't make me lose my powers."

"You'll know once we try," Robert replied without losing his grin.

Of course, Robert didn't possess such power on his own.

But he had the System.

And through the System, he had obtained an incredible item: the X-Gene Inhibitor.

In its original timeline, this inhibitor had been developed from the genes of a mutant child who could suppress the abilities of others. Even the most powerful mutants would lose their abilities for an entire year after exposure. Over the following months, their powers would gradually return, but the impact was undeniably profound.

That was why the aging Magneto had been so subdued during the battle against the Sentinels—he had temporarily lost his abilities.

This powerful potion, a true nemesis to all mutants, was a reward granted by the System. Without saying anything more, Robert directly injected the transparent, bullet-shaped serum into Magneto's arm.

"Erik, I have immense respect for you," Robert said. "But in many ways, you're too extreme."

"Try life as an ordinary man—see it from that perspective," he added as he withdrew the syringe.

Magneto's expression turned deeply conflicted. He could already feel the strength draining from his body, the once-familiar power slipping away like sand between his fingers. A part of him refused to believe it—how could this happen? How could someone strip away his abilities?

The shock rooted him in place, speechless.

What Magneto didn't know was that the mutants silently observing everything from afar were even more stunned.

Robert—a young mutant, still relatively unknown—had just subdued one of the most powerful figures in mutant history: Magneto, the King of Mutants. And even more shockingly, he had completely robbed Magneto of his power.

The X-Men's expressions ranged from cautious surprise to wary respect. But for the Brotherhood of Mutants, the reaction was far more complicated.

Their mighty, unbeatable leader had been defeated—and so effortlessly. How could they possibly accept that?

How could a mere youth hold such unimaginable strength?

Sabretooth stood silently, visibly shaken. Fear flickered behind his eyes. Raven and Toad were even more conflicted. In their hearts, they both feared and longed to live without their powers—something they'd never dared voice aloud.

Before anyone could speak further, Professor Charles was pushed forward by Alanna.

He studied Robert with a complex expression. He hadn't anticipated such brilliance, such sheer capability, from him.

"Where did you get that potion?" Charles asked, concern etched into his features.

Their abilities were their identities—he couldn't remain calm without knowing the truth behind something that could erase them.

"Professor, everyone has their secrets," Robert replied, shaking his head. "But don't worry. It's safer in my hands than in the hands of any military organization or corporation."

Indeed, the mutants were far too vulnerable despite their incredible abilities. Time and time again, they'd been targeted, manipulated, even hunted. A simple colonel in the military could throw their entire community into chaos. It was frustrating beyond belief.

Robert had to admit, Charles was a good man. But he was not a suitable leader.

Good people rarely made good leaders.

After that, Robert didn't linger. Without waiting for the X-Men's response, he turned and left.

Charles opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He simply stood there, digesting the situation. After a moment of silence, he murmured, "This child really has a personality."

"Gifted children are always like this," Alanna said, clearing her throat. "You just have to guide them with patience."

"But I doubt he'll ever agree to join the X-Men," she added. "We should drop that idea."

Charles nodded slowly. "Then what do we do with the others?"

Alanna turned to look at the Brotherhood members still under Charles' mental influence. Her brow furrowed in frustration.

"I don't know. This is a headache," she admitted.

Charles sighed deeply. "Let them go," he finally said. "We can't hurt our own people."

Then, turning toward the captured Brotherhood members, Charles addressed them directly.

"You are free to leave," he said gently. "But I urge you—don't do anything reckless. If I find out you've harmed others…"

His tone grew slightly colder.

"…I will reduce your mental capacity to that of a six-year-old for the rest of your life."

Despite the calmness of his words, a chill ran down the Brotherhood mutants' spines. The fear in their eyes was unmistakable.

Without another word, they turned and left. Though they wanted to retrieve Magneto, none dared challenge Charles now.

As they disappeared into the distance, Charles turned back to Magneto, who still stood silently, eyes unfocused.

"My old friend," he said with a soft smile. "Stay here. It's been too long since we played a game of chess. Let's have a proper talk."

And with that, Charles gathered the X-Men to begin cleaning up the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Robert walked quietly along a forest path, a helmet tucked under his arm.

It was none other than Magneto's helmet—the one that blocked telepathy, rendering Professor X's abilities useless.

A valuable artifact indeed.

Mutants with mental powers were the most dangerous of all. A telepath like Charles could manipulate thoughts, memories—even entire personalities. Only a select few, such as Scarlet Witch, could resist such abilities.

And Robert wasn't about to take any chances.

Everyone knew Superman had a weakness to magic, but mental attacks were no less dangerous.

With that in mind, Robert had claimed the helmet for himself. A small safeguard, but a meaningful one. If he ever encountered another powerful telepath, he wouldn't be defenseless.

Now, no one—not even someone like Professor X—would be able to pry into his thoughts or control his mind.

Robert, once an unremarkable young man, now carried a dangerous edge.

An X-Gene inhibitor in one hand. A psychic shield in the other.

He was becoming something the world wasn't ready for.

And he knew it.