FBI: Chapter 21/25

Chapter 21: Raid! Latveria!

Time snapped back to the present.

After enduring a baptism-by-fire from a tsundere rebel brat, a good-kid chatterbox brat, and a shota-obsessed female teacher, Dante was emotionally and physically wrecked. Any lingering shred of love for the profession had been burned away.

No matter how much Professor X tried to talk him down, after transforming into Green Lantern and giving those brats a cosmic spanking, Dante submitted his resignation with zero hesitation.

Teaching? Yeah, that job wasn't made for regular humans.

On top of that, Nick Fury had been busy these past couple of days dealing with New S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy business, so Dante just took a breather and spent two whole days in full corpse-mode at home.

Ada Wong, playing the part of a virtuous housewife, stayed home with him…

As if.

With a devil like Ada around, all sultry and seductive but physically untouchable, the temptation was unbearable.

It was psychological warfare. Pure torture.

All he could do was make some green tea and try to calm the internal flames.

And to top it off, Harley still clinically insane kept butting heads with him nonstop.

Only reason Dante and Ada had a moment of peace today was because Harley had a scheduled follow-up check-up.

"I always feel like I've slowly become a background character in whatever weird cosplay thing you and Harley are doing."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're our Captain."

"Then can you wear white stockings?"

"Captain, would you like me to read you the Federal Bureau of Investigation's entire HR code on workplace harassment?"

"Okay, fine. Leather pants then? It's been getting colder lately. I'm just thinking of your health. What kind of normal person wears a high-slit cheongsam every single day?"

"Hmm… that could be arranged."

Ada actually paused to consider, then turned and disappeared into the bedroom. Sounds of rustling followed.

Not long after, she walked out wearing a fitted red shirt, black leather pants, and black leather boots.

Resident Evil 4 Ada Wong had just evolved into Resident Evil 6 Ada Wong.

Dante's Adam's apple bobbed. His mouth was dry.

Time for more tea.

Just then, Ada's personal terminal chimed.

She answered, and on the screen popped up none other than Nick Fury.

"Ada, tell Dante to get to FBI Headquarters immediately. We've got new intel on HYDRA."

His voice was clipped, heavy with the kind of seriousness that never boded well.

"Yes, Director."

Ada put away her teasing attitude and turned to Dante with an exaggerated shrug.

"Time to move, Captain. Looks like our staycation's officially over."


---

After getting the call, the two didn't head straight to FBI HQ.

First stop: pick up Harley Quinn, still getting poked and prodded at her follow-up appointment.

"Ohhh, my little pudding~! What's with this sudden romantic pick-up? You miss me that much already?"

Even with toned-down makeup, the occasional psychotic glint in her eyes and that permanent red-and-blue dye job made it pretty damn obvious who she was.

"Fury ordered Star Team to assemble. Most likely a new mission."

"A new mission?!" Harley squealed with glee, pounced on Dante, and chomped his neck hard enough to leave a very visible lipstick mark. "Fantastic! Is it zombies again? I didn't get enough last time!"

"Can you please find some normal hobbies...?"

"Look, now that I'm a legit FBI Agent, I can't just snatch some random guy off the street and bash his head in. And if you're saying I can't fight zombies either, then what's even the point of living!"

"Okay, okay, fine. From now on, all biohazard stuff goes directly to you, alright?"

Dante rolled his eyes and peeled her off.

Why were all the women around him absolute chaos incarnate?

After collecting Harley, the trio went straight to FBI HQ.

Once inside the Strategic Analysis Room, it was clear the party had already started.

Fury, Professor X, and a bunch of high-profile Mutants were already there.

Dante gave a casual nod to Fury and Xavier, then led Ada and Harley to the seats beside Wolverine.

Wolverine looked around, leaned in, and elbowed Dante in the ribs.

"Yo, Professor Dante, been living the good life lately, huh?"

"Logan, I swear, call me 'Professor' one more time and I'll develop PTSD."

"Tsk. Don't dodge the question. You've got some damn good luck with the ladies, kid. I noticed even your logistics crew is stacked with beautiful girls. Pretty consistent taste, huh?"

"That's called meaningful companionship, alright?"

Wolverine gave a low chuckle and dropped it.

On the stage, Fury noticed Dante's arrival and gave a nod to Ingrid.

She stepped forward and tapped into the terminal.

Immediately, streams of intel flooded the big screen behind her.

"As you can see," Fury said, "after our warning to the FBI branches of other nations, several countries uncovered and purged a number of HYDRA cells operating within their borders."

"Not surprising. HYDRA's strategy has mostly been covert intel work — they rarely cause trouble directly."

"So we shifted our focus to smaller, less stable Third World countries. The result? We found a long-established HYDRA research base in Eastern Europe."

"In Latveria."

"And what they're researching is... Mutants."

The moment Fury said that, every mutant in the room, including even the usually nonchalant Wolverine, went dead serious.

Except Professor X, whose expression remained as unreadable as ever.

For years, Mutants had chosen to stay in hiding precisely to avoid this kind of thing.

But HYDRA still managed to capture and experiment on their own kind.

This only reinforced one conclusion: joining the FBI had been the right call.

No underground group could compete with the official resources and intel of a national agency.

Professor X stepped forward to take over.

"Our next mission: infiltrate and destroy that research facility. Since they're working on Mutants, they're definitely not operating in isolation. They're tied to the larger HYDRA network."

"This mission requires speed and precision. The top priority is to rescue the captured Mutants. Do not give HYDRA any chance to erase evidence or terminate test subjects."

"According to intel, the lead researcher is Baron Strucker. We want him alive."

"This op will be led by the X-Men and Star Team. Clean-up will be handled by standard Bureau agents afterward."

By the end, even Professor X's normally smooth, measured voice had a slight edge to it.

"Everyone clear on mission parameters? Dismissed! Move out to Latveria!"


---

[Mission: Raid on Latveria]

[Mission Brief: Young Agent, HYDRA's research base in Latveria is experimenting on the Mutant race. Eliminate the facility completely. But... is HYDRA really the only one behind all this?]

(To be continued.)

Chapter 22: The Old Man

The Quinjet tore through the sky above the clouds, flanked by the X-Men's jet like it was rush hour in a superhero sitcom.

For this Latveria raid, the X-Men went all-in with the familiar roster.

Jean Grey. Emma Frost. Cyclops. Iceman. Mystique. Wolverine. Storm.

And—

Magneto.

Yeah. That Magneto. Leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants. Lifelong rival and not-so-platonic BFF of Professor X.

The kind of love-hate dynamic that screamed "tense bromance with unresolved emotional tension."

Magneto showing up? Not something Dante had on his bingo card.

But once he thought about it, it did make a strange sort of multiverse logic. The X-Men and the Brotherhood had always disagreed more on how to protect Mutants than whether to protect them. They were basically two sides of the same mutant advocacy coin.

Like political parties with both hawks and doves—sure, they'd tear each other apart, blood on the carpet, bodies on the floor. But let a third party crash the party? Suddenly, unity.

Based on current intel, Dante had already deduced that the Brotherhood wasn't operating as some hyper-violent extremist group. Sometimes they even traded intelligence with the X-Men.

But true cooperation? That was still fantasy novel territory.

The Brotherhood said the X-Men were cowards. The X-Men called the Brotherhood hot-headed meatheads.

So by all logical reasoning, Magneto wouldn't show up.

Except he did.

Didn't even wait for an invite. Just intercepted Dante's Quinjet mid-air and invited himself onboard.

Wolverine didn't know what the hell the old man was doing either, so he bailed on the X-Men jet and came over to Dante's just to watch the drama unfold.

"Hello, 'Magneto'—Erik Lehnsherr. Mind telling me where you got the intel about this operation?" Dante asked.

"Agent Dante, no need to be so tense. I mean no harm," Magneto replied.

Middle-aged, ruggedly handsome, and currently pretending to be amiable like he was auditioning for a toothpaste commercial.

But that whole calm-and-charming routine didn't match Magneto's usual "angry demigod of metal" vibe at all.

In fact, Dante could feel him suppressing something...

Rage. Contained like a pipe under pressure.

"I know you don't mean harm. Otherwise, you'd have attacked from a few kilometers away with magnetic missiles and bad intentions," Dante nodded. "But intentions aside, I still need to know your objective. The FBI and the X-Men don't travel with ticking time bombs whose motivations are vague."

"Fine. Xavier told me everything," Magneto said. "As for why... just look at this."

He pulled out two files—official documents. FBI-level clearance.

Dante scratched his head and took them.

Turns out, after takeoff, the Bureau dug up new intel from deeper investigation in Latveria.

Inside HYDRA's research facility? A pair of siblings. Primary experimental subjects.

Both confirmed to have the X-Gene.

But their powers weren't naturally developed, they were forcibly induced through some unknown external method.

As a result, their abilities were unstable, with unpredictable side effects.

The sister: Wanda Maximoff.

The brother: Pietro Maximoff.

Dante finished reading and immediately turned to Magneto with a new look in his eyes.

There were too many origin stories for Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. In one timeline, they were Magneto's children. In another, they were part of a Romani witch clan, tricked into thinking he was their father.

But in this multiverse?

Was it the original continuity?

Were these two actually Magneto's bloodline?

Suddenly, Magneto's eagerness made a whole lot more sense.

He wasn't just here on a political mission.

He was here to clean up the leftovers of some very personal history.

Otherwise, what would a mutant overlord be doing, crashing an FBI mission on a Tuesday?

Also, it kind of proved how much Professor X still cared about his old frenemy.

"You're definitely having some unwholesome thoughts," Wolverine leaned in and whispered with a grin.

"Shh. See it, don't say it. Friends don't expose each other," Dante replied.

He stood up and scanned the inside of the Quinjet.

Magneto, desperately trying to force a warm smile—and ending up looking like a shark doing customer service.

Wolverine, watching the performance and almost dislocating his jaw from holding in laughter.

Ada, quietly piloting like a responsible adult.

Harley, loudly asking Ada if leather pants bulge when you fart.

This was supposed to be an international raid on an evil organization's fortress.

It felt more like a field trip.


---

After a long flight, both jets finally entered Latverian airspace.

The second they crossed the border, stealth mode activated. Radar signatures: gone.

Both teams shifted gears instantly. No more jokes, no more games.

They might've clowned around in the sky, but everyone onboard was a seasoned warrior.

Well. Almost everyone.

Let's not pretend Harley Quinn ever passed a psychological exam.

Still, even she knew how to flip the switch.

The jets landed two kilometers outside the target: HYDRA's research facility.

As everyone disembarked, the X-Men immediately exchanged looks with Magneto.

All of them were visibly annoyed.

The X-Men were pissed about his uninvited participation.

Magneto was pissed that these amateurs had allowed Mutants to be captured by HYDRA in the first place.

And the captives were his long-lost son and daughter.

Tension? Palpable.

Dante cleared his throat twice, then stepped in with some pre-battle briefing to break the Mexican standoff.

"HYDRA's stronghold is an ancient castle. Total defenders? Around a thousand. That's not a small number, and they've got everything from light infantry to tanks and armored vehicles. Basically, their firepower's enough to overthrow this whole little country."

"But for us? That's a light workout."

"Let's be real: we've got Mutants with god-tier powers and the FBI backing us with logistics and support. A thousand-man HYDRA force might as well be throwing rocks."

"So just one reminder: when wiping out the enemy, try not to cause too much terrain damage. This is still someone's homeland."

"But human lives? Don't worry about that. These guys chose the Nazi route. And everyone knows—"

"Nazis deserve to—."

He aimed that one squarely at the X-Men.

"...Dante's got a mouth on him," Iceman said.

"But he's not wrong," Cyclops added.

The two exchanged glances, smiled, and high-fived.

They liked Dante's style. War crimes aside, he was their kind of crazy.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 23: Your Name

"Move! Everyone back to your posts! Now!"

"This is not a drill!"

"We're under attack! I repeat! We are under attack!"

Down in the lower levels of HYDRA's charming medieval murder-castle—currently functioning as a full-blown research facility—two siblings were locked inside an isolation room made of some weird transparent material. They clung to each other in terror, eyes wide, as chaos exploded across the compound.

"What the hell! Who's attacking the lab?! We already made a deal with that guy!"

"We don't know! Strucker! We've got no intel on the enemy! Only four individuals have been identified so far!"

"Who?!"

"Three are agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation: Level 7 Agent Dante, Level 4 Agent Ada Wong, and Provisional Agent Harley Quinn!"

"The FBI is involved now?!" Strucker's face twisted instantly. "And the fourth?!"

"Th-the fourth is… uh…"

"Don't stutter now, dammit! Spit it out!"

"Y-yes! The fourth one is Magneto! Magneto, the leader of that insane Mutant terrorist organization!"

Upon hearing that name, Baron Strucker's eyes nearly detached themselves from his skull and crash-landed on the floor.

Magneto. The walking apocalypse in a cape. The man who could turn an aircraft carrier into a salad spinner with a frown.

Strucker turned toward the massive display wall usually reserved for experimental data.

Now it showed the real-time battlefield situation.

And it was a slaughter.

His meticulously arranged thousand-strong HYDRA force was being ripped apart like wrapping paper. Defensive lines shattered instantly. Firepower? Useless. Coordination? Gone.

And what shocked him even more—these attackers… they looked terrifyingly similar to the brother and sister cowering behind that glass.

Could it be…?

He turned, staring at the twins curled together, shivering.

Was this power not from the scepter?

Were they born with it?

Was the scepter just… a key?

Yes—the scepter. The one from Loki's failed invasion of Earth.

But that invasion didn't hit New York this time. Two years ago, in this timeline, Loki chose Metropolis instead—just a skip away from Manhattan.

It was then that the general public finally understood what "Superheroes" meant… and what a "Superman" was.

The Chitauri army didn't even make it out of the wormhole before getting face-slammed into a curb. Loki? Gone like a fart in a hurricane.

Dante and the FBI had assumed HYDRA fully understood the concept of Mutants.

But it turned out—no. They didn't have a clue. At least not this branch, not Strucker.

All they knew was: some people have powers. That's it.

Now, Strucker was realizing the truth.

And to be fair, he was a brilliant researcher. His scientific chops could rival Bruce Banner or Tony Stark. After all, he had reverse-engineered the power of Loki's scepter—which, by the way, is the Mind Stone.

One of the Infinity Stones. The big boys. The galactic cheat codes.

"Everything... everything's wrong. The research was off from the start. I thought the scepter granted them power. But it didn't. The scepter is just the key! The key to unlock something that was already there!"

Strucker's emotions were spiraling fast, and one of his henchmen leaned in to whisper urgently.

"Baron Strucker, our defensive lines are collapsing. We need to evacuate—now."

"Evacuate?!" Strucker barked. "Against a group of people with literal superpowers? You think we can evacuate?!"

He gave a twisted smile, somewhere between "mad genius" and "customer service manager on his last shift."

"If they'd just come a few days later—no, thirty hours! Thirty hours more and the protective field using the scepter's energy would've been ready!"

And then, like a man possessed, he suddenly flipped into fanatical mode and started rallying his troops like a man hosting a fascist TED Talk:

"These damn FBI clowns in tights have come to test our faith and loyalty! We! Will! Not! Surrender! Hail HYDRA!"

"HAIL HYDRA!!"

The surrounding soldiers snapped into zealot-mode immediately. Bloodshot eyes. Screaming like it was Black Friday at the Nazi Gift Shop.

Strucker nodded, pleased with himself, and then leaned close to his loyal lackey.

"Delete the data. I'm going to surrender."

"If the FBI gets access to our research, they'll weaponize it in less than a week."

So while the foot soldiers got busy preparing for glorious suicide-by-superhero, Strucker was backstage, rehearsing his sob story and looking for a white flag.

Unfortunately for him…

The top floor exploded.

And from above descended an elevator made of glowing green Willpower Light.

Dante—fully suited up in Green Lantern mode—floated down with Ada and Harley flanking him.

"So you're Strucker, huh? You glorified mall cop in a monocle?"

"I surrender! I'll hand over everything! Just don't kill me!"

"Huh?"

Dante squinted at him, deeply unimpressed.

He hadn't planned to kill Strucker immediately, but the man's performance was so over-the-top, so pitifully cringe, that Dante was starting to reconsider.

Seriously—was this guy really the same HYDRA that screamed "Hail HYDRA" to the grave?

Where was the drama? The loyalty? The dramatic final lines?

Say what you will about HYDRA, but at least the others had the decency to die on brand.

Soon, the X-Men cleared the last remaining soldiers and stormed into the facility.

Strucker went straight back into weeping hostage mode.

But Wolverine? Old reliable?

He just grabbed the guy by the collar and dragged him off.

A few screams later, the room got a whole lot quieter.

Strucker was probably still alive… barely.

"Raven. We clear?"

"All soldiers eliminated," Mystique said calmly. "All internal staff—including the researchers—are alive and mentally stable."

Raven Darkhölme. Blue-skinned, ice-cold, meticulous. Same era as Wolverine. Same killer instinct.

Sure, re-entering the battlefield had awakened the old assassin's bloodlust, but she was still in control.

Because she understood one thing: those researchers were useful.

Even if Loki's scepter forcibly activated the X-Gene, it still required a deep understanding of Mutant biology.

That kind of research wasn't something to just toss.

If they could teach those scientists the actual fundamentals of the X-Gene?

They could develop more stable awakening methods.

Maybe even power upgrades.

And if anyone was worried they were still loyal to HYDRA?

Please. The FBI had telepaths lined up like Monday-to-Sunday meal prep.

Monday – Psylocke.
Tuesday – the Stepford Cuckoos.
Wednesday – Emma Frost.
Thursday – Jean Grey.
Friday – Omegon.
Saturday – Professor X.
Sunday – Team-building retreat led by Professor X.

Seven days a week.

Twenty-four-hour psychic re-education.

HYDRA?

They could brainwash nine hundred HYDRA goons into thinking they were Teletubbies by next Tuesday.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 24: The Unharmonious Reunion Between Father and Daughter

As the last line of defense against heavy firepower, Magneto arrived fashionably late. Once inside, he stood at the very back of the group—saying nothing, looking at no one.

Not even Raven his former partner in synchronized mutant carnage.

By this point, Dante—now out of his Green Lantern mode—had already led the X-Men deeper into the castle's lower levels. This was the heart of HYDRA's little science dungeon.

The laboratory.

In the center were two containment cells made of some kind of transparent unknown material. The brother and sister, previously confined together, were now separated.

Without a word, Magneto suddenly accelerated, gliding past everyone with laser focus and zero regard for introductions or conversation.

His face, though? A rollercoaster of suppressed emotions.

Anger. Regret. Hope.

Dante leaned over to Cyclops and whispered like a kid at a high school drama rehearsal:

"So, as a Mutant, why does Magneto look at you all like you owe him child support? Aren't you all technically on the same team?"

"He was our leader once. Like Xavier," Cyclops replied. "Strongest Mutant alive. But our philosophies clashed. That's when we split—us as the X-Men, him as the Brotherhood."

"Philosophies," Dante repeated with a nod.

Those two syllables were heavy enough to drop a Sentinel.

And "philosophy" in Mutant terms? Might as well mean "irrevocable blood feud."

Philosophy doesn't just change.

"So if the split was that big, why is Magneto even here? Did Professor X just text him a thumbs-up emoji and he showed up?"

"Don't ask me," Cyclops said, shrugging. "He's terrifying. But he really cares about the Mutant race. He just... handles it in the most violently unchill way possible."

As Dante blinked back into focus, Magneto had already started manipulating the surrounding metal—preparing to rip open the containment cells like he was opening canned grief.

"Magneto, wait! You're going to scare the—uh, the..."

Dante cut himself off mid-sentence.

He was about to say "children," because the pair looked as lost and scared as any kids would.

But then he remembered—he himself was twenty-five.

Calling a couple of twenty-year-olds "children" felt like asking them to get off his lawn.

Instead, he just gestured to Ada and Harley to go find the damn unlock switch.

Then he turned his attention to the twin captives.

The brother was trapped in what looked like a glitchy speed-loop. At times, he moved like a normal person. Other times, he zipped around so fast he left afterimages like it was a Naruto filler arc.

The sister? Off in her own crimson-colored world, manipulating floating blocks of junk like some kind of chaotic preschool sorceress.

She wasn't even using her hands—just raw, flickering Chaos Magic.

Yes. That Chaos Magic.

Because this brother and sister were none other than Pietro Maximoff and Wanda Maximoff.

Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch.

Only now they were just... incomplete versions. Half-finished DLCs in a lab cage.

No proper training. No control. No stability.

In their current state, they'd probably struggle to file taxes—let alone fight HYDRA.

…

Soon, Ada and Harley returned—armed with the decryption password extracted from a conveniently cooperative HYDRA researcher.

A few taps on the terminal later, the transparent cages clicked open.

And... nothing.

The twins didn't step out. They just clutched each other's hands like the floor outside was lava.

This space—the interior of the cage—was the only place they hadn't been hurt.

The only place that felt safe.

"Hey. No need to be afraid," Dante said gently, stepping into the space slowly. "I'm with the FBI. We're here to rescue you."

He waited.

They didn't react with fear, so he kept going.

"Can you tell me your names?"

"My name is... Wanda Maximoff."

"Pietro. Pietro Maximoff."

Dante blinked.

That was... surprisingly easy.

It clicked: Wanda had already awakened her Chaos Magic. She might not have mastered it, but she could sense the pure intent radiating off Dante. No deceit. No malice.

Just rescue.

Her paranoia eased up.

Sure, being locked in a cage for this long left some serious psychological damage, but she wasn't insane.

Not yet.

She could still tell who was a monster and who wasn't.

HYDRA? Definitely monsters.

The people who killed HYDRA? At least for now... the good guys.

Magneto, though?

He was unraveling by the second.

The country. The faces. Pietro's resemblance to a younger version of himself.

He didn't need a paternity test.

These were his children.

Once upon a time, he'd lived in Latveria in hiding. Fell in love. Got married. Had kids.

He almost gave up extremism for them.

But when the world found out who he was, the pitchforks came out. Betrayed by neighbors. Attacked by mobs.

His family shattered. His children lost.

His soul broke into pieces and reassembled into the man now known as Magneto—destroyer of nations, slayer of cowards.

Forget Polaris.

That was a different mess altogether.

But now?

These two right in front of him were his.

And as his trembling hands betrayed his age for the first time, he stepped forward.

"You two... do you still remember your father?"

"Father?" Wanda blinked. "If you mean our adoptive parents, they're dead."

At the mention of her adoptive parents, something in her eyes snapped into focus. The blank haze disappeared.

"They were killed during the Latverian civil war. Bombs from Stark Industries."

Her tone turned sharp. Bitter.

"To get revenge, we offered ourselves to HYDRA. Let them experiment on us. We wanted power."

Dante nodded.

That explained a lot.

HYDRA hadn't been specifically targeting Mutants. They didn't even know what a Mutant was.

The twins had walked in willingly. HYDRA just took the offer.

Free test subjects. How convenient.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 25: The Dungeon

Still, it's hard to absolve Stark from the death of their adoptive parents.

Sure, he's not in the weapons business anymore, but during Obadiah Stane's time at Stark Industries, the company flooded the market with high-grade weaponry. A chunk of that arsenal leaked onto the black market.

Middlemen made fortunes reselling Stark weapons to anyone with enough cash and a bad idea.

So yeah—being an arms dealer? That's a stain Tony Stark can't fully wash off.

Should he apologize? Sure.

But die for it?

Come on.

They're not even blaming the guy who dropped the bomb—just the guy who sold it?

"Stark Industries? Tony Stark, the guy always flexing on TV? Good! I'll go kill him for you right now! Avenge your adoptive parents!"

Magneto was already marching out, full of righteous fury and murder vibes.

And let's not forget: Stark Tower's a giant glowing bullseye in New York. If Magneto actually makes it there, Tony's only surviving chance is if he's been quietly developing anti-magnetic armor made from like... ceramic Tupperware.

Dante opened his mouth to stop him—

And didn't need to.

Because Wanda beat him to it with a hard-stop question.

"You… why are you asking me that?" she said, confused. "Who even are you?"

"Children. I'm your biological father."

"Are you… strong?" Wanda asked, just staring at him. Her tone unreadable.

"I'm one of the strongest Mutants…"

"Then where were you," she cut him off, voice calm and slicing, "when our mother was dying? When Pietro and I were homeless, freezing under a bridge? When the only people who ever cared about us were blown to pieces in an explosion?"

Magneto opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

He tried a few more times—but nothing came out.

There was no excuse. No explanation that wouldn't sound hollow.

Even Wolverine, the last guy who'd ever volunteer to comfort Erik, exhaled and gave the old man a shoulder pat.

And Wanda, in a voice still trembling with quiet, broke what was left.

"Pietro and I never needed a father like that."

Soft voice. Hard edge. Like a blade wrapped in silk.

And just like that, Wanda cut through the last fragile thread of bloodline fantasy—clean, final.

Sure, they'd imagined what their real father might be like.

Sure, they'd hoped—at some point—that he might come find them.

But that hope died in the fire. Along with everything else.

Dante, standing beside them, quickly covered his mouth—because bursting out laughing right now would probably be frowned upon.

Still. He was absolutely here for the drama.

And as Magneto stood there, utterly broken, he seemed to suddenly realize what kind of father he really wasn't.

So he did what emotionally repressed supervillains do best:

He stormed out in a blind rage, pulsing with killing intent.

Was he really planning to vent that pain on Stark?

Dante grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Erik. Where do you think you're going?"

"To kill someone."

"Nope. Not happening," Dante said flatly. "The FBI isn't letting you kill Stark."

"Don't block me," Magneto snapped. "An FBI agent poses no threat to me."

He turned his head. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils narrowed with rage, locked on Dante.

Dante didn't blink.

"First of all, it's not me stopping you—it's the Federal Bureau of Investigation. You're strong, sure, but are you stronger than the entire FBI with U.S. government backing? Stronger than the whole X-Men roster? And most importantly…"

He cracked his knuckles. "What makes you think I pose no threat?"

Magneto didn't answer.

He just raised a hand—and flung Dante across the room, crashing him into a wall in a cloud of dust and debris.

A sharp green glow burst through the dust.

Dante stepped out in full Green Lantern mode, glowing like a sentient traffic light with a bad attitude.

He casually tossed his sidearm and personal terminal to Ada and Harley.

No more metal. No more magnets.

"Alright then. Let's do this."

Magneto didn't respond. He just attacked.

He never wasted breath—Magneto was a man of violent action, not monologues.

But Dante had already ditched anything magnetic. Instead, Magneto pulled debris from the battlefield—scraps of metal from fallen tanks, broken guns, shattered armor—and formed a massive steel spike aimed straight at Dante's heart.

Dante responded by conjuring two high-frequency chainsaw swords made of Willpower Light and charged straight in, shredding the spike mid-air.

That's when Magneto realized something was off.

He hadn't known Dante could use a power like this.

He'd only seen him outside the castle—no ring, no glow, no will-powered constructs.

But now?

The Green Lantern Ring was basically Magneto's worst nightmare.

Magnetic fields meant nothing to Willpower Light.

And in that moment, the fight was as good as over.

The image of Magneto summoning a tidal wave of steel? Terrifying.

But now he was just an old man strapped down in a glowing green straitjacket.

Dante frowned.

Something was missing.

Harley ran over, tore some gauze from a nearby supply table, and crammed it into Magneto's mouth. Then taped over it.

Dante sealed the whole thing with another layer of Willpower Light to create a soundproof green bubble.

"Perfect," Dante nodded. "How'd you know I wanted him gagged?"

"Used to do kidnapping gigs. Standard package. Picked it up from my ex."

Dante blinked.

The surrounding X-Men just stared.

They were agents of the law. Official FBI employees.

And their colleague was demonstrating very practiced hostage procedures.

Ada, for her part, ignored the banter. Something had been bothering her about the castle's layout from the start.

Too much space inside compared to the outside.

Which meant…

"There's a secret passage here," Ada said, pressing into a hidden panel. "In old castles, they're usually for escape… or hidden dungeons."

Dante gave her a look. Then he floated Magneto ahead of him like a human lantern—lit, subdued, and double-gagged.

The passage coiled downward, but not for long.

Soon, they reached the bottom.

And what greeted them was not medieval cobblestone and moldy bones.

It was a high-tech prison chamber that looked like someone cut it out of a SHIELD helicarrier and dropped it into a dungeon.

Inside stood a man.

Handsome. Clean-cut. A little too smug.

He raised his hands and sighed.

"Great. Another batch."

Then he smiled.

"Tell me—are you here to receive divine revelation from the great God of Mischief?"

(To be continued.)