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[Marvel: Xenomorphs] Chapter 59: The Xenomorph Sentry Decides to Eliminate Magneto
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 03:15:36 +0000 UTCThe question of who is stronger, Professor X or Magneto, is difficult to answer. They are generally considered to be on the same level.
However, if we were to ask who has fewer weaknesses and the broadest adaptability, the answer would undoubtedly be Magneto.
Unlike Professor X, who possesses only a mortal body, Magneto has enhanced physical abilities far beyond an ordinary person thanks to his mastery of electromagnetism. He can manipulate metal, generate lightning, interfere with biological magnetic fields, and even create energy barriers.
Take the current situation, for example—Magneto cannot see or hear, yet through the magnetic fields of living beings, he is fully aware that someone is standing before him.
"I knew it. Charles was too soft-hearted. That’s why he fell into your ambush so easily. I assume you tampered with the Cerebro amplifier while we were attending the global summit?"
There was no expression on Magneto's face, but it had become the most terrifying visage in the world, filled with volcanic fury.
Opposite him, Mastermind’s expression twitched. Even with his emotions dulled by Stryker’s modifications, a faint ripple of emotion still surfaced.
"Don't be surprised, child. Your tricks may deceive them, but you can never fool me. Who would have thought to conceal their biological magnetic field?"
Magneto's expression remained benevolent as he raised a hand, instantly paralyzing Mastermind.
"Are you a mutant or something else? A superpower that manipulates deception?" Magneto’s gaze shifted to Professor X, slumped over in his wheelchair. His voice grew lower, carrying a bone-chilling coldness that nearly shattered the mental constraints in Mastermind’s mind, allowing a sliver of clarity to return to his eyes.
"So, you're just another pawn under control. But that doesn't mean you're blameless. You knocked Charles unconscious, hoping to keep him in an eternal sleep, turning him into your tool? A good idea. Once upon a time, I had considered the same thing."
Magneto extended a finger toward Mastermind. In an instant, Mastermind’s body suffered immense damage. If he could still perceive pain, he would realize he felt like he had been struck head-on by a speeding train, his body creaking like rusted iron on the verge of collapse.
Blood seeped from every pore.
At that moment, Magneto still could not see Mastermind’s physical form. He didn’t care. He continued his torment coldly, ensuring that the true mastermind behind this attack could witness his fury.
"Who orchestrated this operation? Stryker? No, I suspect it's S.H.I.E.L.D.," Magneto said, intensifying his power, about to crush Mastermind completely.
"Enough. Crude tactics. Let go of my son."
A voice echoed from a button on Mastermind’s clothing—it was Stryker.
"Your son?" Magneto sneered. "No wonder. With such an ability, your wife’s death was well deserved. In fact, it’s a miracle she even lived that long."
A cruel smile appeared on Magneto’s face. The violent urges he had been suppressing finally gave him a twisted sense of pleasure.
If not for Professor X’s repeated reminders, his usual instinct would have been to start a massacre in response to such treachery.
Who the mastermind was didn’t matter—humans were behind it. So the only solution was to hunt down and eliminate them.
"Stryker, you should be grateful to Charles. If not for him, you and all your people would already be dead."
Magneto loosened his grip, letting Mastermind—whose bones were now dislocated and twisted—collapse onto the ground. He glanced down indifferently.
Mastermind’s ability was interesting, but in Magneto’s eyes, it was merely a sophisticated parlor trick. Useful if handled well, irrelevant otherwise.
"What do you want?" Stryker’s voice asked.
"Withdraw your forces and clear a path. I will take Charles and leave this accursed country—far from humans," Magneto declared.
Stryker responded, "My biggest mistake was assuming that when you left the summit, you actually flew away. I thought you had gone to the coastline to rendezvous with the X-Men. I never imagined you had remained here all along."
"I never needed to go to the coast. The Brotherhood has members with teleportation abilities. If not for Charles’s soft heart, you wouldn’t have stood a chance."
"You’re right. But if he weren’t soft-hearted, would he still be the Charles you know?"
Stryker’s voice grew colder. As Magneto listened, the sound of gunfire outside gradually faded. But something felt wrong.
A volcano on the verge of eruption had just been doused by an icy downpour. A sudden chill of realization spread through Magneto. He knew where the problem lay.
Swish!
Magneto suddenly clenched his hand, crushing Mastermind into a bloody pulp.
"Too late. Do you know why you fall short of Charles? Because you’re too arrogant. You underestimated my son, William Stryker!"
"If it were Charles, he would never have let his guard down!"
"Who says ordinary humans can’t give birth to terrifyingly gifted monsters? I did! The Preacher did!"
Stryker’s laughter turned maniacal, filled with madness.
"Do you feel like something is off in your mind? That’s right. Your head is now filled with my son’s psychic fragments. Your consciousness is riddled with hypnotic traps!"
"Erik—Magneto! You thought to stay close to Charles to protect him? You thought I wouldn’t anticipate that? From the very beginning, this entire operation was planned with you in mind. The moment you showed up, I knew my son was as good as dead."
There was no sorrow in Stryker’s voice, no grief for his son’s death—only regret. Perhaps he mourned the loss of such a valuable tool. But if taking down both Professor X and Magneto was the cost, it was worth it.
For Stryker, the true fulfillment of his purpose had been achieved in this single operation.
"My thoughts... what’s happening..."
A look of disbelief spread across Magneto’s face. He realized his thoughts were growing increasingly chaotic, while the dark emotions he had always suppressed were now expanding uncontrollably.
Mastermind was no simple illusionist. He was capable of trapping even Professor X in an endless dreamscape. Planting hypnotic suggestions in Magneto’s mind was a trivial task by comparison.
"No! My helmet can block all psychic control—"
"Did I ever use psychic abilities to invade your mind?" Stryker interrupted harshly. "Your helmet only prevents mental control, not your ability to see, hear, smell, and perceive the world around you!"
As long as Magneto could perceive the external world, he was vulnerable to Mastermind’s illusions.
Mastermind was the hidden ace Stryker had kept secret for years, the weapon he had painstakingly manipulated and brainwashed into submission.
"If my son were still alive, I could make you experience something truly special. I could conjure an endless inferno, making you burn alive over and over again, dying and resurrecting in agony each time."
Stryker’s voice turned icy. "But now, there’s no need. You will be trapped forever in the illusion I have carefully crafted for you—a world where mutants have been exterminated by humanity, where you are the last surviving mutant, driven to madness and despair."
This was Magneto’s deepest fear.
And now, it had become his reality.
Stryker struck by sheer luck, hitting Magneto’s deepest fear—the very future he had glimpsed from Destiny.
Otherwise, Magneto might have been able to resist a little longer.
If Professor X were here, he could have removed Magneto’s helmet and used his telepathic abilities to invade his mind, forcibly subduing him. But fate had conspired otherwise—Professor X lay unconscious.
Stryker’s perfect plan was now complete.
“Come, Erik, become my servant. Only I can stop this future from happening. You should obey me—the Preacher!”
Even with his usual cold-blooded nature, Stryker couldn’t hide his excitement. He was on the verge of controlling Magneto, capturing Professor X, and wiping out the two most powerful mutant factions in one decisive move!
A separate nation for mutants, free from human rule? Nonsense. They could build that nation in hell!
“AAAAAHHHHHH!!!”
Magneto clutched his head, his bloodshot eyes wide with agony. He could no longer distinguish reality from illusion. Perhaps the entire world was a lie. But his mind—his once-brilliant intellect—had lost the ability to discern the truth.
ZZZZZT!
An overwhelming surge of energy erupted from Magneto, visible to the naked eye. With the last shred of his sanity, he burst through the roof, escaping far from Professor X.
The deafening explosion turned every head—mutants and humans alike.
“Magneto? What’s happening? Wasn’t he protecting the unconscious Professor X?”
“Something’s wrong—his magnetic field is unstable…”
Magneto roared, lost in a nightmarish illusion of unspeakable terror and despair. A spherical energy field crackled around him, forming a violent storm of electricity.
Thunder and lightning raged, streaking across the sky with increasing intensity, unleashing a deluge of destruction upon the earth.
Under this apocalyptic onslaught, unlucky souls were struck by lightning and vaporized on the spot.
“What the hell is going on? I didn’t see anyone sneak in! We were guarding the Professor tightly!” Wolverine growled, tanking a lightning strike with his body. His wounds rapidly regenerated, but his expression was grim.
The lightning was bad enough, but the real threat was the expanding energy field. Anything that touched it was instantly reduced to dust by the runaway power.
Even Wolverine hesitated. Would his healing factor be enough to withstand such absolute destruction?
Maybe his Beta-grade Adamantium skeleton would hold his body together long enough to give him a fighting chance.
“I’ll stop him! You take care of the Professor and move him to safety!”
Storm clenched her jaw, her eyes glowing white. With her weather-controlling abilities, she had no choice but to charge forward, desperately trying to disperse the raging storm.
“I’ll help—” Jean’s eyes flickered with a brief but ominous red glow before she stepped forward, only to be stopped by Storm’s urgent command. Gritting her teeth, she turned and ran to find Professor X instead.
But Storm’s intervention only made things worse. The lightning intensified, turning more erratic and destructive. Helicopters were struck down, spiraling into fiery wreckage.
Missiles, once guided with precision, now twisted chaotically in midair before detonating unpredictably.
On the ground, it was pure carnage. Tanks and armored vehicles were struck one after another, some being flung into the sky and torn apart midair.
As for ordinary soldiers?
Those who were lucky left behind whole corpses. For the others, piecing their remains together would be an impossible task.
Right now, no one had time to worry about the civilians. Everyone with even a shred of strength left was focused on stopping Magneto’s inexplicable rampage.
Even the X-Men had no idea what had caused him to snap. They had held their defensive line, ensuring no enemies had breached their perimeter.
So what happened to Magneto?
Had someone attacked him?
Or… was this something he had done to himself?
The sheer magnitude of the destruction shook all of New York City.
Millions of people looked up to witness the swirling, storm-tossed clouds stretching endlessly across the sky. A vortex of darkness formed over Westchester, a gaping maw in the heavens—like the very gates of hell opening.
The ground trembled violently, splitting open with countless fractures. Towering skyscrapers swayed perilously in the howling winds, threatening to collapse at any moment.
Lightning. Storms. Energy fields. Earthquakes.
New York City had plunged into chaos.
In the past, people might have dismissed such devastation as a natural disaster—perhaps an earthquake or extreme weather.
But not anymore.
Even ordinary citizens, staring at this apocalyptic scene, had only one thought:
Which superhuman was responsible this time?
Wait… this time?
When was the last time this happened?
Screams of terror filled the streets. Car horns blared incessantly as drivers fought to escape the unfolding catastrophe.
At any other time, fleeing might have been an option.
But today, the one causing this disaster was Magneto.
With his full power unleashed, every scrap of metal in the vicinity was trapped in his magnetic grasp. Vehicles stalled, trapped in midair or crushed under an invisible force.
Magneto’s enraged roar sent a shudder through the city—more terrifying than any demon from hell.
That is… if these people had ever seen a demon from hell.
Westchester bore the brunt of the devastation. As the epicenter of the disaster, countless lives were lost—entire families wiped out in the storm of destruction.
Those who survived were left in utter shock.
They had no idea how things had come to this.
And when they realized that Magneto was behind it all, their confusion turned to sheer disbelief.
“Magneto? No way! He just said this morning that he’d made peace with the X-Men! Why is he slaughtering people now?!”
“You call this slaughter? This is genocide! Have things really escalated this far between humans and mutants? Was there never a chance for peace?”
Yes—this was an extinction-level event.
With his powers fully unleashed, Magneto’s attacks could wipe entire areas off the map with a mere flick of his wrist.
This was the terrifying reality of a man who commanded the fundamental forces of the universe.
At this moment, numerous heroes across New York took action, but against Magneto, they were simply outmatched.
Some, like Daredevil, fought fearlessly, but they could only save ordinary civilians. Sending him to deal with Magneto? Impossible. At the very least, Magneto was flying in the air, and any hero without flight or long-range attacks would be doomed the moment they got close.
Even those who could fly weren’t necessarily a match for him. Without absolute strength, they couldn't break through Magneto's energy field and would eventually be obliterated.
Others took a more tactical approach, bringing an arsenal of weapons to the sky and continuously bombarding him from a distance.
"Tony Stark, what are you doing?" Fury forcibly hacked into Tony's communication channel.
"Damn it! I upgraded J.A.R.V.I.S.'s firewall—how did you break in? As you can see, I’m trying to stop that lunatic."
Tony pushed the capabilities of his Mark V armor to the limit—energy blasts, lasers, missiles—every available weapon was deployed. Yet, none of it made a difference.
To put it bluntly, the Mark V’s combat power wasn't even on par with a squadron of fighter jets. And if an entire fleet of bombers couldn't do anything against Magneto, what hope did Tony have?
"Sir, the Mark armor is showing signs of instability. The opponent's magnetic field is continuing to expand," J.A.R.V.I.S. reported faithfully.
"What? I’m at least three kilometers away, and I’m still being affected?" Tony was stunned. This was his first time witnessing an all-out assault from a top-tier superhuman, and it was beyond anything he had imagined.
No—perhaps even Magneto himself didn’t expect the sheer level of destruction he was unleashing. After decades of restraint, he had never released his power so recklessly, so unreservedly.
But Tony had no choice. What else could he do? Just fly to a safe distance and watch?
Watch as Magneto lifted entire buildings like they were ants beneath his feet? Watch as he dismembered living beings in waves?
But getting closer? Tony knew better. Storm or Dr. Jean Grey might be able to interfere with Magneto at close range, but he? He was completely helpless. Electromagnetic forces countered him on every level—whether it was metal or sophisticated electronics, they would all be rendered useless in an instant.
At this moment, Tony was truly lost. What could he do? What could he do?
"I need to build an anti-magnetic suit... but there’s no time..." Frustration filled his heart as he watched entire sections of Westchester being wiped from existence.
How many had already died? Fifty thousand? A hundred thousand? There weren’t even bodies left.
Just then, another communication request came through.
"Watching you struggle like this reminds me of Sisyphus pushing his boulder uphill."
"Duncan?" Tony’s eyes lit up, but his hope quickly faded. "I’d love for Sisyphus to come and stop this lunatic, but at this rate, only Zeus himself could intervene. That is, if Zeus actually existed."
"Zeus does exist. But he wouldn’t bother with something as trivial as this. You’d be better off hoping for Asgardian intervention." Unlike Tony, Duncan's voice was calm, unshaken.
"Will the Asgardians come?"
"No. My forces have already suffered heavy losses. The battles are too intense; Asgard doesn’t have the manpower to spare. Besides, even they would struggle to handle a berserk Magneto."
"So we’re just supposed to watch? Wait for him to tire himself out?" Tony gazed at the screen, which was already distorting due to magnetic interference.
Soon, the signal would degrade entirely. Eventually, he would lose contact. He had to fly further away to ensure his armor didn’t shut down like a broken-down car.
"Of course not. I’ve figured out why he’s like this. And if it weren’t him, it would’ve been someone else eventually. I’m going to stop him." Duncan’s voice was steady, certain.
Tony was about to say, You can’t even fly, but then—he froze, his head snapping to the side.
As the night descended, a figure streaked across the sky at incredible speed, bathed in golden light like a divine being descending from the heavens. His rapid movement left behind a long, glowing trail, resembling a magnificent comet.
He was fast— and accelerating by the second.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.?"
"Powerful energy signature detected. Speed exceeding Mach 10… Mach 11 now. Sir, this is not his limit. My database contains no records of this superhuman."
Boom!
As the figure shot forward, the sheer force of his approach clashed against the storm Magneto had conjured, creating a shockwave of opposing winds.
Tony caught sight of him—a towering physique, muscular yet lean, his long arms brimming with nuclear explosion-level strength. Golden energy coursed through his form, lifting his flowing hair as if gravity itself had been dismissed. It wasn’t just movement—it was artistry, a masterpiece painted in the sky by the world’s greatest artist.
Power and elegance intertwined. Strength and charisma fused.
Even through his mask, Tony could feel the overwhelming confidence radiating from this man.
"Duncan, that’s not you. Who is he?" Tony asked in shock.
Strong. Mysterious. Unknown.
Someone who could fly with nothing but his own flesh and blood.
"Don’t tell me he’s Ikaris’s long-lost brother."
"Of course not. He has nothing to do with the Eternals. In fact, he’s at least twice as strong as Ikaris—probably."
For once, there was a hint of uncertainty in Duncan’s voice.
Even he wasn’t entirely sure of Reynolds’ capabilities. This was Reynolds’ first time stepping into battle as the Sentry. How much of his potential would he actually unleash?
That question would soon be answered—nothing tested one’s strength better than combat itself.
Interestingly, Duncan hadn’t even ordered Reynolds to act. The moment Reynolds sensed Magneto’s rampage, something awakened inside him—some deep-seated instinct, a long-buried calling. He had volunteered to fight.
Duncan agreed immediately. He never discouraged enthusiasm among his subordinates.
"Is he one of yours? You never mentioned him before."
"You’ll remember him soon, Tony. And you’ll be in for a surprise."
Tony adjusted his flight trajectory. As Reynolds shot past him at blinding speed, he called out:
"Hey, buddy!"
"Tony Stark? I’ve heard of you."
Reynolds, still bathed in golden radiance, was just barely adapting to his newfound super-senses. He saw the countless people looking up at him, their gazes filled with reverence. He heard the desperate prayers of those who had lost all hope.
In that moment, an overwhelming sense of satisfaction washed over him.
His addiction—this need for validation, for admiration—had carried him to an intoxicating peak of euphoria.
Look at him.
He wasn’t some washed-up drunk drowning in alcohol and drugs.
He was a superhero, worshipped by the masses! Even the legendary Tony Stark was speaking to him with respect!
Reynolds instinctively puffed out his chest, making himself appear taller, broader, more imposing. He deliberately deepened his voice, trying to mask his inexperience.
"Buddy, I don’t even know your name yet. But I’m sure I will soon." Tony spoke quickly. "My only advice—be careful. Magneto’s lost his mind. His mental state is unstable!"
"Lost his mind? Unstable?"
Reynolds ran a hand through his long-unwashed hair, now immaculately clean thanks to the energy coursing through him. His voice boomed with unshakable confidence.
"As if anyone here is mentally stable!"
Boom!
He accelerated again—Mach 13!
Tony opened his mouth, then closed it. After a moment, he muttered to Duncan:
"I’m surprised."
Duncan thought for a moment and replied, "Terrible choice of words. But in this crazy world, at least he’s honest."
"Who is he?" Tony asked.
"Robert Reynolds, my most loyal guardian. Of course, you may now refer to him as... the Sentry!"
Duncan's vision had long extended through the Xenomorph embryo embedded in the Sentry's chest, reaching all the way to the front lines of the battlefield.
He saw Reynolds, clad in his formidable golden energy, violently crash into Magneto's magnetic field like a cannonball. He pierced through the barrier like a drill, pushing forward until he stood face-to-face with Magneto, arms crossed, his expression cold and indifferent.
"It begins—the unprecedented Xenomorph-infused Sentry versus the rampaging Magneto."
Duncan had every reason to believe that this fully unleashed, unrestrained Magneto was among the strongest across the entire multiverse—excluding a few particularly exceptional versions of himself.
Likewise, this Xenomorph-infused Sentry was one of a kind across countless universes. If anyone could challenge Magneto the moment they debuted, it would be him. The outcome was truly unpredictable.
At the very least, Duncan found comfort in one thing: at this moment, Reynolds exuded an unprecedented and fierce confidence, fully awakening his inner "addiction" to battle. Perhaps this would grant him a slight boost in combat power.
BOOM!
A deafening explosion erupted, shattering the sky. Reynolds forcefully tore through Magneto’s terrifying energy field, his sheer strength visibly rending the space around him.
His speed only slightly diminished—clearly, such an act was no easy feat even for him—but he quickly accelerated once more, charging straight at the raging Magneto.
Boom!
A single punch.
Magneto and his entire magnetic field trembled violently, as if struck by some ancient behemoth. He was sent flying backward, the impact so forceful it triggered a sonic boom upon his departure.
Meanwhile, Reynolds floated in the exact spot Magneto had occupied just seconds ago. His golden hair billowed wildly, his powerful chest pushed forward.
In this moment, he looked more like a god than anyone else.
"Who is this guy?!"
"I've never heard of him before! Does New York really have a superhero this powerful?"
In the midst of apocalyptic darkness, the sudden appearance of such an overwhelmingly dominant golden warrior left everyone stunned. Even the most optimistic individuals had never imagined the arrival of such a mighty superhero.
This was a world-shaking revelation.
Even Reynolds himself realized—he had become something beyond powerful.
"Did I... do that?"
Reynolds maintained a stern expression, mostly because he had no idea what kind of face would best reflect his newfound grandeur. His rather uninspired mind recalled Duncan, and so he began imitating him.
Yet inside, he was overwhelmed with shock. His thoughts were so scrambled by excitement that he couldn't even form proper words.
"I'm really this strong now? That was Magneto I just punched away? How is he so weak—no, it's not that he's weak. It's that I’m too strong! I, Robert Reynolds, have become an unstoppable force!"
Reynolds was ecstatic, his breathing growing erratic. His heart, akin to a nuclear fusion reactor, pounded wildly.
He wanted to roar, to announce his name to the world, to demand that everyone acknowledge and respect him.
"I—"
Reynolds gazed down at his surroundings, contemplating whether he should say something grand.
But in the next second, he felt a sudden, distinct pulse from within his chest—another lifeform, deeply connected to his own.
Then, a cold voice echoed in his mind.
"Reynolds, now is not the time. Your opponent is Magneto."
Reynolds' body stiffened. His face instinctively took on a submissive expression, and his imposing figure even hunched slightly.
"Of course, Lord Duncan, I shall obey the one who has bestowed everything upon me..."
A wave of fear crept over Reynolds as he sensed the Xenomorph embryo within his chest.
The stronger his instincts and awareness grew, the more he realized how deeply the embryo had fused with his very DNA.
It could burst from his chest at any moment.
And everything he had—the genes, the abilities—his Xenomorph counterpart shared them all.
What would happen once it emerged?
Would he and his Xenomorph-infused self split their growing power equally? Or would he simply die on the spot?
His mind spun wildly, becoming even more chaotic than it already was.
But he had no time to dwell on it—because Magneto, seething with fury, was already storming back into battle.
His bloodshot eyes burned with rage and brutality, locking onto Reynolds with terrifying intensity.
Reynolds puffed out his chest. "Come at me. Even if you’re Magneto, I’m not afraid of you. I am the mighty Sentry!"
