Chapter 19

The world dissolved into ruby-red light. Ethan reacted on pure instinct, his body moving before his mind could fully process the attack. He grabbed Storm's arm with one hand and Nightcrawler's tail with the other, yanking them back as a beam of pure concussive force seared the air where they'd been standing, leaving a molten scar on the metal wall.

Magneto, who had been at the front, simply raised a hand. A heavy instrument console ripped itself from the wall and floated in front of him, absorbing the next blast with a deafening CRANG. The machinery crumpled like tin foil.

"He is a product of your school, Charles's little soldier," Magneto said with a dismissive wave, his voice dripping with condescension. "You may deal with your own." He and Mystique turned, intending to simply walk past the conflict.

"Don't bother, it won't take long," Ethan's voice rang out, sharp and confident. "I'll handle this!"

And then he was moving. He shot forward, a blur of orange and black, closing the distance on the mind-controlled Cyclops.

Fzzt! Fzzt! Fzzt!

Scott's visor pulsed, spitting out a rapid-fire volley of smaller, focused blasts. They were like deadly tracer rounds, meant to stitch a line across a moving target. But Ethan wasn't just moving; he was dancing. He moved with a strange, almost playful agility that defied combat logic, bobbing and weaving, leaping and flipping like a monkey in a jungle gym. The red beams sliced through the air around him, close enough to singe his clothes, but never touching him.

But getting closer meant the margin for error vanished. It was like dodging bullets—at fifty yards, you have time; at five feet, you have prayer.

"Ethan, get back!" Storm yelled, her voice raw with panic. She saw him close the distance until he was less than a meter away from Cyclops, right in the kill zone.

And then, impossibly, he stopped. He just stood there for a fraction of a second, a perfect, stationary target.

A look of cold, robotic focus settled on Cyclops's face. He tilted his head, aiming his visor directly at Ethan's forehead. There was no mercy in him, no hesitation. The visor glowed, charging for a full-power, kill shot.

Storm's heart stopped. She tried to summon the wind, to call down a bolt of lightning, but it was too slow. Kurt was still reeling from the first blast, his mind a daze. It was over.

The ruby beam erupted, powerful enough to punch a hole through a tank. And it passed directly through Ethan's head, hitting the wall behind him with a deafening explosion. It was like shooting a ghost.

"It's over."

The voice came from behind Cyclops. Before Scott could even begin to turn, a hand chopped down on the back of his neck with incredible precision. His body went limp, and he crumpled to the floor.

Storm's eyes widened. The Ethan that had been shot was gone, and the real one was standing over Scott's unconscious form. He had leaped clear over Cyclops's head as the beam fired, leaving behind a shimmering afterimage to draw the shot. The entire confrontation, from sneak attack to knockout, had taken less than three seconds.

So strong, she thought, her mind reeling. She hadn't truly believed Logan's stories. Not really. But seeing it with her own eyes… she wasn't sure she could win a close-quarters fight against this boy. He was a warrior.

Ethan slung the unconscious Cyclops over his shoulder and walked back to them. He glanced at Magneto and Mystique, who had paused to watch the show. "See? All solved," he said with a grin. "Let's stick together, shall we?"

He's a monster, Ethan thought, looking down at Scott. A human cannon. Unbelievable power, but physically, he's just a man. And like all of Charles's students, he's too soft. He'd never take the kill shot, even if he needed to. That's a weakness I can't afford.

Magneto's expression was an unreadable mixture of admiration and annoyance. His plan to let Cyclops whittle down the X-Men's strength had been thwarted in three seconds. They continued on, and within minutes, they reached the antechamber of the Cerebro room, a circular space guarded by a final platoon of elite soldiers.

Magneto didn't even break his stride. He flicked a finger. The soldiers' own rifles ripped themselves from their hands and turned on them. It was a brief, brutal massacre.

But just as they stepped towards the final door, it happened. A silent, invisible wave slammed into them. It wasn't a sound; it was a feeling. The feeling of a billion nightmares screaming at once inside their skulls.

Storm cried out and collapsed, convulsing on the floor. Nightcrawler's features contorted in agony. Even Mystique and the unconscious Cyclops twitched and spasmed. Ethan felt a faint prickle at the edge of his senses, nothing more, but he reacted instantly. He screamed, clutching his head and dropping to his knees, mimicking their torment perfectly. He knew what this was. Xavier, plugged into the machine, targeting every mutant on the planet.

Only Magneto, shielded by his helmet, remained standing. A grim, triumphant smile touched his lips. He raised his hands, and the massive, reinforced door to the Cerebro chamber groaned as he forced the locking mechanisms to shut down the psychic attack.

The psychic screaming stopped. The mutants on the floor groaned, dazed and vulnerable. This was Magneto's moment. The door hissed open. He grabbed Mystique, dragging her to her feet and pulling her inside the chamber.

"Erik, no!" Storm managed to gasp.

He was going to lock them out. He was going to have Mystique impersonate Stryker and command the broken, mentally enslaved boy inside to turn Xavier's power on all of humanity.

"Triple Afterimage Fist!" Ethan's voice shouted.

He dropped his act. From his kneeling position, he exploded into motion, splitting into three identical, flickering images that shot towards the closing door.

"Insolent child!" Magneto roared, sensing the attack. He had no time to use the metal in the room. Instinct took over. A coin shot out of his pocket, a silver blur aimed with murderous intent at the head of the central Ethan.

The coin passed straight through the afterimage.

SNAP.

The sound was small, but it was sickeningly final. It came from inside the Cerebro room. Magneto spun around, his face a mask of pure fury.

The real Ethan was standing over the wheelchair-bound form of Jason Stryker, the illusionist. His hand was just letting go of the boy's head, which now lolled at an impossible angle. His neck was broken.

Ethan turned to face the stunned and furious Master of Magnetism, a chillingly calm smile on his face.

"The matter is over," he said, his voice quiet in the sudden silence. "Of course… if you still want to spar, I am willing to accompany you to the end.