Magneto sat on the penthouse balcony of his hotel, drinking in the glorious sights of New York at night, when it was truly in its glory. Darkness cleverly hid the dirt, the cracks in ancient stones, the broken glass, burned out shells of forgotten buildings, the grime of long years and hard life that covered the City. Glittering lights in random patterns shone in the velvet shadows cloaking the city from windows and streetlights in all direction. Like a spill of diamonds on dark cloth. The patterns shifted slowly, continuously, as the inhabitants of the City went about their lives. But it never winked out entirely, there were always lights shining in the darkness here.
It reminded him of the people he was protecting. Swallowed up in the darkness of humanity's hatred and fear, but never completely. Always shining through, small pinpricks of light that refused to be put out entirely. Mutants among humanity, shining in their various ways.
What a glorious week it had been, he mused to himself. Genosha had finally reached a state of independence from other nations, its mutant inhabitants having learned how to work the factories and farms that the humans had left behind when they abandoned it to him. After going over the financial status and trade agreements with his advisors, he'd learned that the country was even pulling a profit, selling more than it bought. His people were clever and industrious, most of them working hard because they were allowed to shine here. Allowed to show off their talents and strengths, welcomed instead of having to hide, be anonymous in the crowd, drawing little or no attention to themselves for fear of the Friends of Humanity organized hate group or the Sentinels sanctioned by their very governments to kill them simply for having been born. In safety, they worked hard to repay their new home. Their loyalty ran deep for even the smallest things Genosha could offer.
Then there was the latest census report, which had revealed that the population had nearly doubled in the last year, as more and more mutants fled to his haven. Quite a few of them were from America, the famed 'melting pot' of the world. So much for melting. Apparently homo sapiens and homo superior were like oil and water. Completely immiscible, although if you shook the two together it was hard to tell them apart for a short time. However, it was inevitable that once the liquids settled down, they would once again separate into two distinct substances, losing any semblance of uniformity. So much like man and mutant.
And finally, the last thing he truly needed, a powerful young telepath. Her telekinetics were a bonus, but it was primarily the telepathic talents of the young woman he was concerned with. As well as repositioning her on the mutant chessboard of life to be his Queen, rather than Charles'. Removing the danger, increasing his forces and position. Not to mention the sheerly personal satisfaction of stealing one of Xavier's favored protégés right under his nose.
"Welcome, indeed, MindDancer," he mused aloud. He would keep his word to the girl, using her in contract and political negotiations. He was confident that the plots and plans of those who would move against them would be all he needed to gently propel her into a more proactive stance regarding her new allies, and a desire to protect her home. He didn't need to push her, time and fate would neatly do that for him. Arica Jenner was clever, a bright young woman who looked at life a lot more realistically than her former chosen mentor. It grieved him that it took such an event to outline the hard truths to the girl, but he trusted in fate to know what she was doing. Lady Fate had certainly brought the girl around far more effectively than any of his prior attempts.
Tomorrow, Toad and MindDancer would be joining his dream. For bringing MindDancer to the fold, all was forgiven for Toad over having refused to go to Genosha before. Having overseen the packing of their things at the small house young Toad had owned personally he was certain that Tolensky did indeed share the emotional bond he'd witnessed in Arica during their talk. It bemused him a bit that of all the teens he'd had at the time, including Avalanche and his own son Quicksilver, it had been Toad that attracted the girl. It mattered little to him in the end though, they would breed glorious children that would grow free and proud of what they were, and one day, reclaim the world that was denied them.
Magneto had never considered himself a stupid man, and prided himself in learning from his own past mistakes and those of others. After long study of history and his own attempts to bring his dreams to fruition, he'd realized his error was not in the goal itself, but in the timetable. There were simply too few mutants to stand up to humanity at this point. They were truly the future, but the future would come only in it's own time, and it had been arrogant of Eric to try to force it to suit his own desires.
But in the generations to come, with mutants being born both in Genosha and out, they would rise up and take their rightful place. The trick would be to protect the fledgeling new species until it grew strong and proud, able to stand freely and say this world is ours! Eric was content in accepting that it would not be in his generation, but perhaps in his children's. Or their children's. Not much longer than that, he was pretty sure. He was watching the world statistics closely, and less and less families could claim to be mutant free.
And with Arica on Genosha, he need fear no fools any longer. With the updated Cerebro unit he was building for her, so similar to the one that he helped Charles' design a lifetime ago, she would protect their home. It would boost her natural power enough to take over the minds of an entire army if they chose to send one, or reach the mind of a man controlling the Sentinels if they chose that route. His people would be safe. And woe to the man or woman who got in the way of that goal. Perhaps, as time went by, Arica could be persuaded to start using her abilities in new directions. Erasing the hatred that mankind found so necessary, reprogramming them. Right now she was too ingrained in Charles' 'freedom of choice' philosophy. But the potential was there. He wondered if it would keep Charles awake at night, waiting for the day that Eric 'corrupted' one of his own fully.
Corruption indeed. Ensuring the survival of herself and those she loved, and her people without the need to shed the blood of the enemy could hardly be considered corruption. There were bloodier ways to accomplish his desires, after all. Eric felt he was showing excellent restraint in letting them stay in the back of his mind for now. After all, did mankind really understand anything else?
Would Arica one day be here, looking down over these lights and remembering the day she'd run to him for help? Looking down with gratitude in her heart for him, fond memories of the man she'd once fought with all her strength, that had been the only one willing to save a life unjustly sentenced to end? Would her children play in Central Park after a day in the Museum, perhaps with his own grandchildren as Wanda or Pietro's possible wife and Arica sat chatting on a bench? Watching over their children with the practiced eyes of a mother alert for potential falls, fights, and other childhood mishaps, rather than carefully watching the surroundings for brutish Friend's Of Humanity supporters who would kill them all. Or perhaps Todd and Pietro would be there, reliving their days in that simple boarding house of high school, marveling at how the world had changed as they watched their strong, healthy children taking on the jungle gyms.
Such pleasant daydreams, he mused, turning to go back into the warm room behind him and away from the chilling winds that blew across the City at this height. He wondered if she was even now saying her good-byes, spending her last moments with those she had come of age with. Those who had taught her along the path, trained her powers and fighting skill and morality. To those she helped train up behind her, the students at the school. What magnificent courage, to turn her back on everything she knew for the sake of one life.
Such a shame he was so old, she so firmly attached to Toad. She would have made a wondrous mother to his children. Unlike the pale, fragile creature who had born him twins, only to die a few years later leaving them motherless in an unkind world. He counted himself lucky that they had proven to be mutant children, rather than human like their mother, weak and useless.
Such a shame he'd had to kill her, a few more heirs would have been welcome. But she had been growing dangerously unstable ever since the day she learned of his mutation, fearful of her own husband and later the children of her own body. Terrified it was all some sort of holy punishment for some great sin in her past. He wasn't about to allow any risk to his heirs, so while she slept one night he'd simply stopped the blood to her brain, effectively suffocating it.
She'd died so quietly, almost peacefully. It had been easy enough to tell the tiny children the next morning that life had just worn her away, grinding her down until there was nothing left. That she'd been weak, and that is why he wanted them to be strong, so that they would grind away at life instead. They never suspected a thing. He wondered often if Wanda in her later years happened on the thought in her hatred of him, but she'd never given any indication of it. It was if she'd simply forgotten she'd ever had a mother, and he had let the matter stay buried. Pietro asked him to share memories of his mother once in a great while, but like Wanda mostly seem to have forgotten. Asking more out of a need for a sense of belonging, of coming from somewhere than any real emotional need.
If Carlotta Maximoff had been more like Arica, there wouldn't have been any such need. His children would have grown strong and proud from her example. He never would have needed to fear harm to them by her hand. Perhaps their gifts would have been stronger as well.
Wanda's was incredibly powerful, but equally incredibly dangerous. The anger that burned somewhere in her very soul distracted and unfocused her. Even now, grudgingly living at a strange kind of peace with him in the same country it was there in her. She ignored him completely, simply pretending he wasn't there. She understood the need for his powers to protect the only place that accepted her, but he doubted he would ever find forgiveness in her eyes. At least Pietro had said she'd perked up somewhat upon the news that Arica was coming. Eric vaguely remembered Pietro saying that Arica and Wanda had been good friends back then, and that Arica had a soothing effect on his daughter.
And while vastly useful for communications, observation, and similar missions, Pietro's powers just weren't useful in any kind of offensive attempts. Too easily tripped up by ice slides and telekinetics to be as invulnerable as he boasted.
Well, they both could take care of themselves at least, despite his failures as a father. There was that. They would carry on his work when he was gone, for their own sakes. He had no illusions that it would be for him, in his memory. And that was fine too, it was the work that mattered. More than all the Pietros, Wandas, Todds, and Aricas of the world.
In the end, they were all servants to the work.