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There was a time in my life that I wasn't Magneto. I was simply Erik, a man running for his life. My family died in the concentration camp; my mother right in front of me. I had escaped with my life intact, but I knew that I would always be a target; whether of the Nazis or some other power-hungry organization. They knew what I could do now. I would never be safe; I would never be free.
And as I held my newborn son in my arms, I knew my children wouldn't be free, either.
When I met Magda, I didn't know that I would be so taken with her. Her dark, silky hair had never been shorn and her green eyes sparkled in the firelight the night I stumbled across her family. The Roma were not usually so open to visitors, but they knew the marks on my arms. Hitler had also pursued gypsies as a lesser breed of humanity. So I sat with them, was given leave to travel with them for a time.
I met Magda and married her.
Later that year, as we sat there holding our children, we knew we had a difficult decision to make. She knew what I was, what I could do. She, too, feared that one day we might be captured or killed for the strengths I possessed. How could we put our children through this? How could I, as their father, leave them so open to danger or abuse? What if they were born like me? There was no choice. To stay safe, they had to stay away from me. From us.
So different, these babies. Pietro; my son, my pride, was quiet. He barely cried since his birth. You could see in his eyes that he was already learning. Observing everything around him. Sometimes I could swear that I saw him raise up to sit for a moment, from the corner of my eye. He must be incredibly strong. Wanda was pale like ice with a soft patch of fiery red hair growing from the top of her head. And she was fire. Insistently, she cried day and night, demanding of her mother and me. 'Cuddle me. Change me. Nurse me.' I had no doubts of the strength of my girl-child's spirit.
We waited until the nightfall on the fourteenth night of our children's lives to make the journey. Magda had family in another group of Travelers that would be passing through a nearby town any time now. We would go seek out her cousin and her husband, and ask her to take our children as her own. They journey took two days with horses and a wagon. The entire time, Magda held our son and daughter. She kissed their heads and cried into their hair, singing them old Roma lullabies that I would never fully understand. I could not look into her eyes. She never said a word, but I knew she resented me. Because of what I was and what our children might be, she would have to be separated from them, indefinitely. It was more than her heart could bear, and I could see her hardening toward me.
Her cousin, agreed to take the children and care for them. In order to preserve their identity, she and her husband would settle and find jobs, as well as take the last name Maximoff. It was then that I knew what I needed to do and who I needed to become. To keep my twins safe, they were willing to renounce all that they were. To keep my twins, and all others born with gifts like ours, safe, I would have to fully realize who I was meant to be. A leader. A force. A weapon…
But not in the hands of humankind. Too often had men shown the tendency to abuse or destroy what they did not understand. For the sake of myself, my family, and countless others, I had to take that power away from them. I had to show the world that we mutants were not to be used, enslaved, or killed as they saw fit. They should be grateful to still be alive in a time of human evolution; to witness the next steps in our timeline and see what their progeny would have a chance at.
And if they were ungrateful, I would save them the trouble of living with that doubt.
When I told Magda of my plan, my hopes to rise to some greatness and make it safe for us to raise our family, she looked at me in horror. She threw words at me in Roma that cursed my name and my evil intentions. She didn't understand. To her, I wasn't different than human; I had magic. A spiritual gift. My wife was convinced I was aligning myself with darkness and spat at me.
I left her there, to live with her family and be a part of our children's lives as a nursemaid. Years later, when she passed away, I came to collect the twins. They had grown so much and barely knew me, except for that I was their father and also, what their mother called, gifted.
By the time I had them with me at last, I was a force to be reckoned with. I could keep my family safe. And I would teach them how to use their gifts to protect themselves and their fellow mutants.
I would never again be weak, unsure, victimized Erik Lensherr.
I was champion. I was leader. I was powerful. I would forevermore be Magneto.