A Purpose

( 3rd POV )

In the shadowy labyrinth of the underground tunnels beneath New York City, a place forgotten by the sun and forsaken by hope, a man found himself wake up in the direst situation with a minor injury on his body. 

Remy LeBeau, known to many as Gambit, found himself in dire straits. The damp air was thick with the scent of mildew and rust, the only sounds were the distant drips of water echoing through the cavernous expanse. The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants had captured him, and now he lay in a dimly lit custody room, chains binding his wrists, the cold metal unforgiving against his skin. 

If one were to ponder how a man like Remy LeBeau could end up in captivity, the story would have to begin a few days prior. Remy had awoken in a drunken haze, a woman in his arms, only to find his wolf partner conspicuously absent. Realizing he had made a grievous error, he decided against returning to the X-Mansion, where an angry wolf awaited him. Instead, he chose to continue his investigation into the Brotherhood of Mutants on his own.

For days, Remy had been tracking the Brotherhood's movements, finally managing to capture one of their members. The captured man refused to cooperate peacefully, forcing Remy to resort to harsher interrogation methods. As a former thief who had lived in the shadows for years, Remy was well-versed in such techniques. It didn't take long for him to extract the information he needed.

The Brotherhood, led by Magneto, had launched a sudden assault on the Morlock community. Magneto aimed to assimilate and control them, using the Morlocks as pawns in his grander schemes. The Morlocks' domain beneath New York City was a stark contrast to the world above, with pipes lining the ceilings and walls adorned with graffiti. Their living quarters were makeshift homes crafted from the city's detritus, a testament to their resilience and melancholy beauty.

Remy knew the Morlocks lived in secret tunnels beneath the city, and he was acquainted with their leader, Callisto. Though Callisto was a formidable leader, Remy knew they stood little chance against the elite forces of the Brotherhood. Without hesitation, he rushed to the Morlocks' camp. The secrecy of their base made it difficult to locate, and by the time he arrived, it was already too late.

The Morlock community lay in ruins. Callisto and a few of her elite were missing, while the rest had submitted to Magneto after witnessing his power. Remy was confronted by Marrow, revealed to be the traitor who had sold out the Morlocks' location. She was flanked by Brotherhood members like Azazel, Sabretooth, Pyro, Blob, and others.

A fierce battle ensued. Remy fought valiantly but was overwhelmed by the combined might of his enemies. He had fought valiantly against Azazel's teleportation, Sabretooth's brute strength, Pyro's flames, and Blob's immovable mass. The fight had been fierce, each opponent pushing him to his limits. Remy had used every trick in his arsenal, his agility and cunning keeping him alive longer than anyone would have expected.

But in the end, he was captured and thrown into a cell, he was left with injuries that began to heal slowly over the next few days. During his captivity, he overheard rumors of the Brotherhood's next plans but found himself powerless to act. 

Remy's heart pounded with urgency. He possessed vital intelligence for the X-Men, information that could change the course of their struggle against the Brotherhood. His mind raced, searching for an escape, but the chains held firm, and the room offered no promise of freedom.

Suddenly, the heavy door creaked open, and a figure stepped into the dimly lit room. The light from the corridor cast long shadows that danced across the floor and up the walls. Squinting, Remy tried to discern the features of his unexpected visitor. The figure moved with silent purpose, their steps confident. As they drew closer, Remy's confusion grew.

"What the hell are you doing here, Sarah? Not satisfied after beating me up?" he asked, his gaze cautious and wary toward the woman called Sarah a.k.a Marrow.

Ignoring his question, Sarah produced a set of keys and unlocked his chains with ease. Remy, baffled by her actions, was about to subdue and question her when something even more startling occurred. Sarah's skin began to shift, turning a deep blue. Her hair transformed into a flowing red, and her eyes shone yellow in the darkness.

It was Raven Darkhölme, also known as Mystique. Her eyes met his, a mix of emotions swirling within their depths.

"Raven? Wait, wha—" Remy began, his voice loud with surprise. He never imagined that a member of the Brotherhood would be the one to set him free.

Before he could continue, Mystique placed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. Understanding her intention, Remy quieted himself before asking in a hushed tone, "Why are you helping me?" He still wary of the mutant whose allegiances were as changeable as her appearance.

Raven's lips curled into a half-smile, her voice a whisper that seemed to blend with the shadows. "Not all cages are made of steel, Remy. Sometimes, we forge them ourselves with doubts and fears."

Remy stood, his mind still grappling with the situation. "I don't have time for riddles, Raven. The Brotherhood—"

"They're busy with their own plans up there," she interrupted, her gaze steady. "You have a window of opportunity, but it won't stay open for long. And tell Charles to be careful, something is not right." 

As Remy stood in the dimly lit cell, the weight of Raven's words settled on him. "So, the attack has already happened," he murmured to himself, his mind racing to piece together the implications. His thoughts were interrupted by Raven's enigmatic presence.

"What do you mean? Whose side are you on?" Remy asked, his voice a mixture of desperation and frustration. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

Raven's eyes sparkled with mischief as she walked toward the door. She paused, looking back at Remy with a knowing smile that sent a shiver down his spine. "Who knows? I can tell you this much—I'm on my own side. But remember, freedom comes with a price," she replied, her tone dripping with mystery. With that, she slipped out of the room through a hidden tunnel, leaving Remy alone with his thoughts.

"Tch, women..." Remy muttered, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He hated riddles, especially when they came from someone as unpredictable as Mystique. But he couldn't afford to waste any more time. Every second counted.

Remy took a deep breath, his mind shifting from irritation to determination. The faint light from the corridor illuminated the edges of the room, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. He moved silently, his senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

As he stepped into the corridor, the silence was broken only by the distant echoes of dripping water. He knew he had to be cautious; the Brotherhood could be lurking around any corner. Remy's footsteps were soft and deliberate as he navigated the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the city.

As Remy made his way through the tunnels, the environment of the Morlocks' home unfolded before him. The Morlocks' domain was a stark contrast to the world above. Pipes lined the ceilings like the ribs of a giant beast, and the walls were adorned with graffiti, a testament to the lives that thrived in the darkness. The living quarters were cobbled together from scraps of the city, creating a patchwork of makeshift homes that held a certain kind of melancholy beauty.

The air was alive with the hum of generators, the only source of light in the perpetual night. The ground was a tapestry of old subway tiles and dirt, worn smooth by countless footsteps. He passed by a communal area where a group of Morlocks once gathered, the remnants of their presence still lingering—a deck of cards scattered on a table, a half-finished mural on the wall, a child's toy left forgotten on the floor. It was a place of refuge for those shunned by the world above, a sanctuary that bore the scars of its inhabitants.

"What the fuck... This is beyond what I could even imagine, Magneto is really crazy..." 

Stepping out of the tunnels, he was met with the city's turmoil; the clamor of conflict was audible nearby, a colossal metal stadium soared towards the shore, and groups of civilians were in a state of panic as the police attempted to manage the escalating situation. With the enigmatic advice of Raven resonating in his thoughts, he embarked on a quest to locate his comrades, the X-Men, feeling the heavy burden of duty upon him.

.....

The stars were hanging over New York City, casting a glow on the waters surrounding the metropolis. But the beauty of the evening was lost on the citizens below, as a sense of dread filled the air. 

Magneto, the master of magnetism, the enigmatic leader of the mutant cause, approached the shore, his presence heralded by a massive metal stadium that floated around him like a satellite orbiting a planet. The structure was a testament to his power, a symbol of the mutant cause he was championing.

The air was thick with tension, a palpable force that gripped the hearts of the civilians below. Police sirens wailed in the distance, a desperate symphony accompanying the evacuation efforts. Officers shouted orders, guiding the flood of people away from the impending threat.

Above, helicopters circled like vultures, their cameras fixated on the master of magnetism. Magneto's eyes, cold and determined, met the lenses unflinchingly and allow them to approach him. He wanted this, needed this. The world had to witness the plight of his people, the mutants who had been shunned and persecuted for far too long. 

With a mere thought, Magneto's voice boomed across the city, amplified by his magnetic powers to reach every corner, every hidden alley: 

"Citizens of the world, hear me! I stand before you not as a conqueror, but as a herald of truth. For too long, mutants have lived under the shadow of oppression. We've been hunted, experimented on, and sacrificed in the name of a 'greater good' that never included us. We are painted as monsters, as threats to society, when in reality, we are its outcasts. But we are also human before, just like you—capable of love, of suffering, of dreaming…" 

His words were passionate, each sentence punctuated with the raw emotion of someone who had endured too much. On the streets below, faces lifted to listen—some with tears, shame, indifference, while others with nods of understanding. Across the globe, viewers mutants or not watched on screens, their reactions a mosaic of humanity's complexity—anger, sympathy, fear, hope. Even Captain Stacy and vigilantes like Daredevil show a solemn expression on their faces. 

In a bedroom adorned with posters and gadgets, indicative of a young teenager's haven, two boys sat huddled around a newly assembled computer. The room buzzed with the faint hum of electronics, casting a soft glow across their faces. Peter, a lanky youth with a thoughtful expression, and his slightly chubby friend, Ned, were engrossed in a live broadcast.

"What do you think, Peter?" Ned asked, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. He glanced at Peter, who remained silent, his eyes glued to the screen displaying a perilous scene.

"I don't know, Ned... I don't know," Peter murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he sank deeper into contemplation.

Meanwhile, across the city in one of the most opulent penthouses atop a towering skyscraper, the remnants of an extravagant party lingered. The room, filled with the scent of expensive champagne and the distant echoes of laughter, belonged to one of the wealthiest men on Earth. Tony Stark, recognizable by his iconic goatee, lounged casually in his trunks, a glass of champagne in hand. He watched a broadcast on a holographic screen, the image of a metal man delivering a speech capturing his attention.

"Tony! What the hell are you still doing here? The party's over, and we need to evacuate. So, please put on your goddamn suit and let's go. Pepper and Happy are waiting downstairs," a voice broke through his reverie. It was Colonel James Rupert Rhodes, a stern-looking man in a military uniform, his tone laced with urgency. 

"Geez, Rhodey, you need to relax. This tower is the most secure place in the city. There's no need to panic," Tony replied, his tone nonchalant as he continued to watch the screen. He swirled the champagne in his glass, his eyes never leaving the hologram.

"Interesting..." Tony murmured to himself, the wheels of his mind already turning as he processed the unfolding events.

Meanwhile Magneto's speech continued, a crescendo of fervor. "…and tonight, I call upon my fellow mutants to rise! To stand with me, united and claim our place in this world. No more hiding, no more fear. We will show them the strength of our kind, the power of our spirit. We will no longer hide; we will no longer be oppressed. It is time for a revolution, for a better future, for mutant supremacy!" 

But as his speech reached its peak, the sky darkened with the approach of jet fighters, missiles glinting beneath their wings. The government's message was clear through their loudspeakers: "Magneto, you are hereby declared a terrorist by assaulting New York City and causing many causalities. Stand down or be taken down." 

From the center of the metal stadium he levitated, Magneto's eyes narrowed as he listened to their threats. For a moment, he humored them, engaging in a terse exchange that crackled with tension. 

"You think your weapons frighten me? Do I need to remind you about my power?" Magneto taunted, his voice laced with disdain. "You have no idea what true power is."

With a flick of his wrist, the jets and their missiles were suddenly under his control. The crowd below gasped as the weapons turned, not upon Magneto, but towards the shore where they stood. Panic ensued as the NYPD scrambled to redirect the evacuation, Captain Stacy gritted his teeth seeing how uncaring the metal man is toward them. 

"Damn it, move people! Get out here!" 

"Captain, several jets are aiming directly toward the civilians. We won't be able to escape from them and the explosion will also blow the buildings around us." 

"We're doomed..." 

In the chaos, Magneto's message was lost to some, but to others, it was a rallying cry. As the missiles hovered ominously above, it was clear that this was more than a demonstration of power; it was the beginning of a revolution. 

The X-Men's ship called The Blackbird sliced through the clouds, arriving just in time to witness the chaos unfolding below. Storm who already jump off from the ship is watching this with a look of horror, her white hair billowing around her, floated above the scene, her eyes locked on Magneto. "Erik, please!" she called out, her voice battling against the roar of the engines. "This is not the way! We can find peace, not war!" She shout to Magneto in a pleading tone.

But as she spoke, her hands weaved through the air, summoning fierce winds and dark clouds in a desperate attempt to divert the jets. Despite her formidable powers, the mechanical birds of prey continued their deadly descent. 

Inside the X-Men's aircraft, a tense silence pervaded the cabin. Havok, Thunderbird, Beast, and their young students, along with the newest recruits like Iceman, Cyclops, and Shadowcat, watched the unfolding disaster below with a growing sense of dread. They had realized, too late, that they were unable to prevent Magneto's devastating attack.

"Damn it, we are too late," Havok muttered, frustration etched across his face.

"Alex, Scott, could you use your beams to take them down?" one of the younger students suggested desperately.

"No!" Hank McCoy, known as Beast, interjected with a somber tone. "The jets are already too close to the ground. If we blow them up, the explosion will harm the civilians."

"There's got to be something we can do, right, Professor Hank?" Kitty, also known as Shadowcat, asked hopefully. Her eyes were wide with desperation, but the blue-furred man could only offer silence in response, his expression grim.

Meanwhile, on the center of the metal stadium, Magneto, having noticed the arrival of the X-Men and hearing Storm's plea, only spared her an indifferent glance. "Too late..." he whispered, his voice carrying a cold finality.

Below, chaos reigned as civilians fled in terror, their screams creating a cacophony of fear. Among them was a little girl, no older than five, tears streaming down her face as she frantically searched for her parents. "Waaah!!! Daddy! Mommy! Where are you!? Katie is scared, wuuu...!" She cried in fear, but too bad her voices couldn't reach far because of the chaos near her. 

As the jets, controlled by Magneto, hurtled towards the earth at breakneck speed, one veered dangerously close to a young girl named Katie. It was at this critical moment that a rift split the sky asunder, and from it, a figure descended, alighting with an elegance that starkly contrasted the direness of the circumstances. 

She stood tall, wearing a black purplish armor while carrying a giant shield on her hands. The little girl looked up at her, eyes wide with confusion and wonder. The mysterious figure turned to face the oncoming jets, slamming her massive shield into the ground with resolute determination. Her voice, clear and commanding, carried words filled with hope.

"Lord... Camelot!"

.....

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A/N: Please donate your power stones and leave more reviews for my story, I appreciate it and thank you for your support!