Sych here! Apologies for the delay, but I have been in the midst of my midyear exams and my birthday, along with a strange illness that leaves me feeling wasted and near to fainting. But at last, here the next chapter is, so away with my petty excuses and stalling. May I present to you, appreciated readers and reviewers, Sych's next turn;

Chapter 8

Even though the air was nippy and the atmosphere gloomy, two guards stood outside the derelict warehouse. They blew on their hands as they clenched the coffee cups tightly. Wisps of steam billowed from the figures, streaming into the darkened sky.

"Cor, nought like a guard shift in the dead of night, is there Shaun?" one called, rubbing his shoulder blades against the doorframe.

"Nothink like it for creatink misery, that's for sure," was the feminine and articulate reply. "Magneto isn't goink to be happy zough. At least ve're out of the meetink build-up and tension."

"Yeah," said the first watchman, "what happened to ol' Snake's gang, anyways?"

Shaunterelle shrugged, though the movement blended into the gentle rustling of the bushes behind her. "You know Snake, Tort. Always has had too much confidence in himself. As far as I can tell, he changed the plans at the last minute wivvout consulting Magneto, and it was only the quick wit of the new boy that stopped anyone from detecting zem."

"The young squire sure is plucky," Tort nodded. "I reckons Magneto will find him dead useful."

"Indeed. I sink you're right," she replied, "Zough it vill probably benefit Pyro none."

The conversation was cut short as a land-rover drove up. It was old and dirty, obviously uncared for. Few would believe that it housed the up-and- coming evil manipulator, Magneto. His previous capture had made him cautious and secretive. He trusted no one, except maybe Mystique and his famed enemy, Charles Xavier, (though this was a source of continual puzzlement for the other brothers). Dramatics were completely out, and secrecy was definitely in. Thus, a typical soccer-mom's land-rover was a perfect disguise.

Shaunterelle and Tort gave him a sloppy military salute as he stepped out of the vehicle. He shut the door with a loud snap, and strode menacingly to the large doors of the warehouse. As he approached, the swung open, revealing the odd, reddish metallic technology that protected the proceedings from mental trespassers. He stepped through, and the watchmen followed.

The warehouse looked derelict and abandoned from the outside, but on the inside it had obvious signs of living. The Brotherhood made this their headquarters because it had none of their previous flair. Some lived here, others merely came when it was necessary to pick up mission objectives. There were piles of bedding and belongings, but little real furniture. After all, in the event of a raid, when there would be little prior warning, it was desirable that the warehouse should appear to be only a warehouse.

At the back of the large ground space was a cunningly hidden door. It seemed to be merely part of the wall. A keen observer may have realised the entire inside of the warehouse was a mere five feet smaller than it was on the outside, but it was highly unlikely. Magneto 'summoned' the metal door to open, and slid down through an even more discrete trapdoor.

This lead to a small room, currently occupied by Snake's division of the Brotherhood. The brotherhood had grown in numbers, like its fame and respect. Mutants flocked to join it, especially as anti-mutant activists grew more violent in their protests. Snake's division had seven mutants in total, and all were nervously awaiting the arrival of their leader. Pyro could feel the worry in the air, and faint regret from the surroundings mutants. Magneto was now feared.

Pyro didn't look up until he heard the trapdoor close. Then he couldn't help but glancing at his one escape route. Like everything else, it was metal. Everything down here was metal; metal chairs, even metal coffee cups. It gave Magneto complete control.

The man himself walked purposefully to the head of the table with heavy, military steps. His mouth was tugged down at the corners, and frown lines showed clearly. The shapely blue form of Mystique materialised from the shadows, making Pyro start. He hadn't known she was there. She stood behind Magneto, looking smug. The two guards stood by the ladder leading to the exit.

He stared at each mutant in turn, focussing at last on the one known to Pyro merely as "snake". He thought privately that this was a clichéd name, but obviously appropriate as the man had intricate tattoos of snakes over his body. As far as Pyro could tell, his particular talent was stupidity.

"What happened?" Magneto demanded. "How could an information gathering mission nearly turn into mass slaughter?"

Snake, the swarthy man with no apparent survival instinct, leaned back in his chair confidently. His fingers fumbled in his breast pocket for a cigarette. He lit in and took a puff. "Since the attack on the president, security has doubled. Seeking intelligence has become a waste of time. It is too risky-"

"And you think we should go in, guns a-blazing, and see how long we last, is that it?"

"Even with her posing as Senator Kelly we aren't learning anything new. For all we are learning, she's as talented as a codfish."

Mystique smirked sardonically at Snake. He glowered at her, slowly drawing the cigarette to his lips and blowing the smoke in her direction.

For a few tense seconds, Magneto was completely still. Then, with astonishing swiftness, he stood and approached the man, grabbing him by the neck.

Pyro watched with a building of nausea in his stomach. He didn't like Snake, and was no stranger to violence, but it was the acute mix of pain and humiliation that made it so... wrong to him.

Snake dropped the nonchalant act and began to be a repentant sinner. "Please Magneto, I've served you well so far. You're right, you're plan was best and I nearly turned gathering information into a massacre, but it all turned out alright in the end, and I promise-"His unheard entreaties were cut off as Magneto added force to his grip. Pyro glanced away, and his eyes caught Mystique's. She licked her lips at him, and he felt repulsed by her perversity.

The chair Snake sat on began to buckle and fold, encasing the hapless mutant in metal. All the while, Magneto gripped his throat and stared into his eyes. Bones crunched with deafening clarity, gurgled screams erupted. Pyro shut his eyes tightly and wished himself away. His eyes felt hot and his blood pounded in his ears. He was all too aware that if things had turned out differently, it would be him enduring punishment.

"I don't ask for much," Magneto commented calmly, despite the fact that Snake's eyes were beginning to bulge most unpleasantly, "But I ask that you trust my orders, don't deceive me or go behind my back, and you do not insult my 2IC."

Snake whimpered, past struggling to scream. Magneto finally tired of squishing him, and walked back to the head of the table. "Take him," he said carelessly over his shoulder to the guards. They swept forward immediately, with expressions of careful neutrality, scooping him up and manhandling him up the ladder and through the trapdoor.

Pyro stared at the chair he had vacated. It was twisted and stained in a manner of things unappealing, mainly bloodied. His eyes didn't seem to respond to his mind's urgent prompting to look away until Mystique grasped his shoulder. Her nails bit strongly into his flesh, and she brought her lips to his ear. "Not feeling queasy, I hope?" She whispered.

He shrugged her off, and found himself the subject of Magneto's intense gaze. He cowered under his scrutiny, and tried to diminish into his chair. Technically, he had disobeyed orders too. Was anything going to happen to him? Mystique padded silently but swiftly, going to stand behind Magneto's left shoulder.

"You are my Brotherhood. We have the same goals, the same desires. Banded together we will see all that we hope for become the reality. You are my Brotherhood, and we can do anything if our resolve is strong enough."

Pyro watched him carefully, and was disconcerted to see both Magneto and Mystique turn their eyes to him. He felt himself pinned to his chair with apprehension under their combined gaze. Magneto summoned an aluminium alloy can to him, and as it travelled through the air to his hand it stretched and thickened into a thin, femur-length spear. He stared at it, then, coming to a decision, tapped it decisively against the tabletop.

Still locking eyes with Pyro, he announced to the general assembly: "Does anyone know of global warming?"

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