A Kiss Before Dying
Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, otherwise known as Lord Magneto of Genosha, sat in his throne room in the palace that constituted the seat of his new mutant-human government. The hot, dry Genoshan wind swirled around him even now, when he sat a full ten metres away from the nearest window, as did the sporadic sounds of gunfire from the ongoing conflict between the human magistrates and the former mutate slaves that still raged despite his best efforts. He still wore the blood red tunic that marked him as Magneto, the vivid purple cape that hung from his shoulders still flowing freely. He looked at the clock on the wall, which told him that it was almost eight in the evening. A slight smile ran across his cracked, dry lips, and he raised a gloved hand, calling his red and purple helmet to him with less than a thought. Taking it in both hands he slipped it over his head and said "Begin recording," in a voice that was much different to the one he usually used – the voice that could strike terror into the hearts and minds of millions of flatscan humans all across the globe, the voice that could make a man tremble and cry like a frightened child, the voice that could almost tear a soul from a chest with a whisper – no, this voice was completely different. This voice was soft, gentle, and affectionate.
"Hello, Anya," he continued in the Polish dialect he used only very rarely these days. "I am sorry I have been absent recently, but I have been busy, my daughter. There has been so much going on that you and I will have to play catch-up now. I hope you will forgive your father – he has been building a home for my people." He paused. "Your people. We will finally have a home to call our own, my dear daughter. Nobody will ever hate us again, not while we can live on Genoshan soil and live our lives out in peace." He reached inside his costume and fished out a small Star of David, letting the chain play over his gloved fingers, watching it running in and out of them like water laced with gold dust. He looked to the heavens with tired eyes. "I hope you know just how much I miss you and your mother, Anya. Not a day goes by that I do not wish that I could wash all this blood clean from my hands and be a father to you, and a husband to your mother. Tell her that I miss her. Tell her I still love her. Tell her I have forgiven her for being afraid, and that I hope she can forgive me." He sighed. "I know I have asked this before, but I need to know I have her forgiveness, if no one else's, before I die." Rubbing his eyes, he took a deep breath and continued "Your brother and sister are well – Pietro has come to be a part of my government. I know he is only there because the Americans have told him to come, but it is good to see my boy again, nonetheless. He takes after me more than he likes to realise. Your sister decided not to come with him, and I can understand that – she has never forgiven me for a great many things, and I do not know if I will ever speak to her as a father again. She makes me proud, though – I think she would have loved to have you as an older sister. You would have got on well, I think – you both love to look your best, and you both have a wonderful sense of humour." He stopped, biting his lip as tears suddenly welled up in his eyes. "Oh, Anya, I have missed you so! You and your mother are still so important to me, even after all these years. I will never forget you, my daughter. Never." He wiped at his eyes with a gloved finger, and watched the miniature salt trails run down the sides of it absently. "I love you, Anya. I will talk to you again soon, I promise. For now, I have to leave you. This life calls." He kissed the small pendant and moved over to the balcony windows, closing his eyes. A miniature electromagnetic pulse swept out from the palace walls, shorting out any and all electronic devices and locking up handheld weapons, at least temporarily. There followed a silence that was almost eerie, as a tentative evening chorus of Genosha's native birds replaced the background fizzling crack of weapons fire. Erik smiled.
There would be peace at least for tonight, if he had anything to do with it. Tomorrow was a different story, but that was then. For now, Genosha would sleep soundly, and so would he.