A thousand pins glittered in the midday sun. They were purple, with a large white 'M' stamped on them, for mutant. It was a badge of honour. Magneto's followers wore the insignia of being a mutant by choice. They were not ashamed, but honoured to do so.
He remembered a lifetime ago, with the burst of yellow on his lapel. The way shopkeepers would deny him service when he wore it. He remembered how tram drivers told him that he had to get off now, that they could go no further, and he and his mother would walk through the freezing streets to get home even though his friends were allowed to remain on.
This time, Magneto vowed to himself, they would not be ashamed. A man who accepts the slur is a man who deserves it. You fight back, or you die.
Thousands were marching, screaming, carrying banners, many just bearing the white 'M'. Most of the crowd was made up of young people, those who had recently mutated and thought that the world could change as quickly as their appearance had. Among them Magneto saw people with elongated arms, people covered in sharp spines, people who could disappear.
Humans gawked at them from the pavement as they marched past. They were scared; scared that the monster had come out from under the bed, and was baring its teeth on their streets. They cowered behind each other, frozen in their day-to-day lives, unable to rip their eyes away from the freak show.
Magneto despised them for their fear. When humans saw a panther stalk through the jungle, they admired its strength, its power. When they saw a mutant, they resented and feared that same power.
It was not just the civilians that feared them, but the riot police too, shining like beetles as they were under plexiglass shields and thick bulletproof vests. They encircled his march, ostensibly to protect them for the crowd. They were really there to arrest anyone who looked dangerous. They were there as the wet towel of the authority pressing down on the spark of his movement. They were there to say, you may have your march, but no more than that. Do not dare to dream of growing into a full-blown fire.
The crowd was waiting for him to speak, so he did.
"MUTANT PRIDE" Magneto roared and the mob roared with him, sounding it out in a thousand voices.
"MUTANT PRIDE, MUTANT PRIDE".
He felt the hostility of the police growing, their disquiet over what might happen. His crowd were tense to, ready for the next move. They were drawing closer to the barricade, where the police stood in a thick human barrier. Another line, telling them to go no further. Magneto was not stopping at any more lines.
He let himself feel the metal around him: in the hundreds of cars caught in the traffic jam, in the guns and bullets of the officers, in the simple pins his followers wore, and he pushed off of it, soaring into the air, his purple cape flapping behind him in the wind.
The mutants below him cheered and yelled. He saw the police men scramble for their guns, for their headsets, awaiting an order. Did we okay a dude flying?, their body language screamed as they raised their guns, fearing a threat.
"MUTANTS!" Magneto roared. "Our time has come! We will be bowed no longer! They think they can slaughter us and that we will let it happen. They think that we are cowards. They think we have no fight in us. MUTANTS! WE WILL NOT BE BOWED. WE WILL FIGHT BACK!"
"WE WILL FIGHT BACK" the crowd screamed and the police began yelling for quiet, for them to break it up. They fired shots into the air, an explosion of noise that was aggravating to Magneto.
He clenched his fist and a thousand guns choked in the sunlight, their barrels twisting into uselessness. The city fell silent, all at once, all watching him.
"MUTANTS" he yelled. "MUTANTS - FIGHT BACK!"
His mob surged down the street, stopping traffic in their path. They climbed over cars, pushing past the now-unarmed police who were screaming orders and pulling back, breaking rank, scattering in the mass of the crowd.
"WE WILL FIGHT BACK!
WE WILL FIGHT BACK!"
Magneto flicked his wrist and the cars tumulted out of the way of the mob, flying sideways and smashing into walls, crashing into other walls. Mutants drew their claws and surged forward as the civilian broke their trance, as they realised that the freak show had broken loose from their cages, and were damned angry.
He watched as his foot-soldiers took the chant as their own, as they swarmed forward with a visceral hatred, with passion.
They would not be passive this time around, he vowed to himself as he watched the riot. This time, they would be heard.