Master of Magnetism
Mistress of the Atmos
The Epic
Love,
My Love,
My Sweet African Love.
How Exotic Your Features—
Full Lips.
Curvy Hips.
Ebony Skin.
Hair Woven of Wind.
O How I Hunger for You.
Why do you force me to lust
For you so?
What evil have I committed?
Such a punishment is unbearable!
I gaze upon you as my only equal.
I wish to share a pedestal.
The skies are yours.
You make it precipitate.
You are the drive of the world.
You keep the balance between the Earth and sky.
Only equal to your power is mine.
The Earth is mine.
I make it spin.
I keep the moon in orbit.
I keep the Earth maintained with force.
Only equal to my power is yours.
We are similar,
You and I.
Behind our Masks of Indifference we must hide.
It is the way we keep the mortals from harm.
My wrath brings forth geological disturbances.
Earthquakes. Polarity-reversals. Mineral disturbances.
Magnetstorms. Heartbreak. Maelstroms.
Even the odd ones!
People being lifted by their digestive tracks after eating ten potassium-filled bananas.
Allowing others magnetic prowess by my will.
Many a times I went on a typical warpath and left typical ruin in my over-used wake.
Classic destruction.
Playing the same cards over and over again.
Your wrath brings forth atmospheric disturbances.
Hurricanes. Cyclones. Rainstorms.
Thunderstorms. Tornadoes. Hailstorms.
Even the weird ones!
Acid rain that instantly eats through buildings and people.
Chain-lightning that zaps through everything.
Thunder that erupts from one's lungs, instantly causing death.
You once went on a wrathful warpath and left destruction in your wake.
Beautiful destruction.
Allowing, finally, Ororo to come out and test the waters.
What I do is similar to what you do.
However, we are so different that we cancel each other out.
NO! We don't.
We enhance each other—like light waves of two different sources!
We love each other—or at least I love you!
We fare well against each other always.
Your Wolverine fights my Sabertooth.
Your Nightcrawler fights my Quicksilver.
Your Jean (if she is still alive—I've lost count) fights my Wanda.
Your Cyclops tries to court me in battle, but he isn't good enough.
The one-eye cannot accept that I am above and beyond him.
Even your Charles Xavier has taken to a more passive role behind his desk as I have too outgrown him!
Only we can do battle!
As you strike me with your lightning, it empowers me.
I know that my tampering with your electrical fields empower you.
But we know.
Subconsciously.
We think we are doing damage. But we aren't!
Fate is making us do this! We thrive off of one another!
It is why we always do battle! Always interrupted before there can be a victor!
Why?
Because there can be no true victor! When we battle, we are only creating a paradox.
With this, I conclude my letter.
I send it to you via clipping it inside a paperclip and flying it to your window.
By the time you look up, I will be at your window as well. Go on, Ororo. Look up.
Ororo did, indeed, look up to see Erik Magnus staring back at her, arms folded with an 'I told you so,' smirk. He lazily swished his hand at the letter for her to read more.
Fly with me and I will show you what I mean.
Let me take you higher than Earth.
Higher than my personal asteroid even!
Let me take you to heaven.
We shant be dying—no! Gods don't die.
Look up once more and take my hand.
Ororo looked up proudly and stood. She floated herself closer to him and took his hand. With that, they gently went up and up and up until they were seen no more.