III.

Dressed in full battle costumes, the four boys stood in a line in the entry hall, while Sabretooth went to meet Magneto at the front door.

"What do you think he wants?" Pietro asked.

"I don't know," Remy answered. "You see the news? They said Professor Xavier's crew are wanted mutants."

"Good thing they don't know about us, then. We'd all be in trouble," said Peter.

"Maybe we still are." Pietro was starting to squirm. "For all we know, he could be coming here to chew us out for who knows what, and then throw us in a dungeon to rot!"

The other three gave him a strange look.

"Well, he could! He locked my sister in the mental ward for years! And she didn't even do—"

"Ssh!" At the sound of approaching footsteps, the boys straightened up and prepared for inspection.

Magneto strode into the apartment like a king. His eyes passed from one to the next without stopping. "Good to see you're all here."

Pietro stood silently, while his insides churned. His father was a powerful and imposing man, but it was the emotional hold he had on Pietro that made the boy nervous. He hoped he'd remember Rule Number Two ("Don't call me Father, or God forbid, Dad, in front of the others") and not mess up. But with his luck he'd probably forget and cause a scene.

Causing a scene was not allowed in Magneto's world.

Wanda had caused many scenes before she was finally put away.

He blinked, and Magneto was standing in front of him. Trying not to make eye contact (Rule Four), he tried to gauge the older man's expression, and had no clue.

Then Magneto moved on.

"You've done well," he announced. "I'm proud of you all. So proud that I'm going to give you a present."

"Hope it's money," John whispered, behind Pietro's back.

If Magneto heard, he gave no sign, but continued on. "I was going to wait to show you this, but since you've already proven yourselves worthy—unlike those other idiots under my command—"

Pietro felt his face grow warm, but he said nothing. He wanted to speak up, defend his former friends, but he couldn't.

"You've earned the right," Magneto concluded, "to an early admission."

Admission? To what?

The Master of Magnetism turned and led them out into the hallway. They went past the elevator, and made a hard left into the stairwell.

He walked up to what looked like a blank wall, and pushed something.

The wall slid open.

A secret elevator? Where does it go?

"This is not on the building's original plans," Magneto said. "I made a few improvements, which you'll see soon enough. Never push the call button when others are around." He motioned them inside, and pushed the button to close the door.

Pietro glanced at the control panel, and noticed there were only two buttons: the red "Door Close" button, and a smaller black one, which Magneto pressed as soon as the doors closed. There was no number on this button. Nor were there floor numbers over the elevator door.

Where did it go, then?

Pietro felt a sickening lurch as the floor dropped beneath him. He clung to the rail along the wall and hoped he wouldn't throw up.

He couldn't tell if they went down two floors or ten. The movement was so smooth and so rapid that it was hard to tell, without knowing, exactly how many floors they went down. But at last the doors opened . . .

"I don't believe it," Pietro said aloud.

The open space before him was the size of a parking garage, but instead of cars, it was full of complicated-looking equipment. Medical? Scientific? He couldn't tell.

Then he saw something he recognized, and when he realized what all this was, he almost smiled.

All right! We got our own Danger Room!

"This," Magneto said proudly, "is our new, state-of-the-art headquarters and training facility. You will train here twice a day, unless I send you off on specific missions."

"Not bad," Remy said. "It's like our own private gym."

"It's more than that. If you'll just come this way . . ."

On the far side of the room, one whole wall was taken up by TV monitors and expensive stereo components.

"This is our communications center. The monitors there receive over 500 video channels, and 200 audio frequencies, including police bands and military frequencies."

"Doesn't matter," said John. "Only one thing on right now, anyway. The Great Mutant Hunt."

Magneto smiled. It didn't look very humorous. "Indeed. Our secret is out. Now we wait and see what happens."

"That's all?" Peter asked. "We just . . . wait?"

Magneto approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you are eager to get out and fight. But now is not the time. Soon enough, we will prove to those humans just who is the dominant species. Like the Neanderthals, Homo Sapiens' days are numbered. And when they are gone, we will take our rightful place as lords of creation . . ."

Pietro shook his head. He had heard variations of this speech since he was in diapers, and usually it sounded stupid. Yeah, like all those billions of humans would just roll over and die for them.

This time, though, it was different. It didn't sound stupid now, after all they'd been through. It was scary. What was Magneto planning?

Magneto caught his eye and nodded. "I'd like a word with you in private, please, Pietro."

"Private?"

"Upstairs." He turned back to the other mutants. "Sabretooth will show you the training simulator. I want you all to become familiar with the programs. You'll be down here a lot." Then he turned, and, his cape swishing behind him, led Pietro back to the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, Pietro asked, "What is all this? How long have you been planning this?

"For a long time now. Things are finally coming together the way I want."

There was a long pause.

"Um . . . sir?"

"It's all right, Pietro. We're alone here. Rule Two doesn't apply."

"Father . . . what you said, about the human race dying out—"

"What about it?"

"It sounded like you were planning . . ." He didn't want to say it. It was such a big word, with such awful implications, but he couldn't think of another. "Genocide."

Magneto nodded. "You're asking if I have a secret arsenal of weapons to wipe out humanity completely. The answer is no. They will die out, eventually, as our numbers increase and we begin to displace them. It will all happen in good time."

"You weren't thinking of . . . hurrying it along?"

Erik Magnus Lensherr took his son's face in both hands. "Have I told you," he began, "about the concentration camp?"

Pietro nodded.

"One madman, with his notions of a 'Master Race', exterminated millions of people. People like us. People who had done nothing wrong. I have no wish to become the mutant Hitler. As I said, it will all happen in its own time. I believe in the Darwinian concept of survival of the fittest. We are superior, therefore we will survive. Naturally."

Pietro listened with some skepticism. It had been a long time since his father had spoken this frankly with him. But still, he had the feeling that he wasn't being told the whole truth.