Disclaimer: I don't own Magneto or anyone else!

Note: This was kind of difficult because it was hard getting into the head of Eric. But, I'm happy with how it turned out!


I felt trapped. First of all, my old friend Charles had been violently murdered, and here I was in awe of his killer. I think I was also afraid of her and that if I didn't go along with Jean's wishes, I would die as well. And I didn't know how I'd face Charles again. I didn't try to save him (not that I could have) and it bothered me that I haven't even made an effort. Then, I was expected to lead my army to a war started by the same man. So, I did, expecting a bitter victory that I'd rub in his face later with many 'I told you so's".

Pyro brought up Xavier once, telling me that he would've killed him if I had asked him to. I knew he was trying to score pathetic brownie points so I told him off and walked briskly away. You don't insult death like that, regardless of who died. And secretly, I didn't want Xavier put down.


Mystique's reversal to humankind was a loss, and I hated leaving her, but I don't give hospitality to homo sapiens. No matter who they are or who they used to be. I learned that a long time ago. I knew her well enough to expect her to betray us, so I obviously had everything set and ready.


Then came that war on Alcatraz. It was rather ironic, really. All of the mutants, who would most likely be going to prison after this, fighting on the campus of one of the most famous jails around. I would have laughed if I wasn't being bombarded by cure weapons.

The weak Wolverine came up and I laughed at him, not knowing what was going to happen to me. I was shocked to the bone when I felt those needles painfully pierce my skin. What was worse was the soul-shattering fact that my mutantcy was gone. Half of me was gone. No, all of me was gone. Without my abilities, I wasn't Magneto anymore. I was no one worth anything.

So, I lived the next two miserable weeks of my life on the verge of depression. On the line and about to fall off. One morning, I tried to move a chess piece. It takes a lot to break me, but if that did not work, I would be in tears and past the line of depression.

It moved. Just for a moment. But it moved. The cure was not permanent! That was all it took to convince myself to don my cape and helmet once again. And now, the humans are not safe. No, not safe at all.