Chapter 5 | The Stand?

"Do you think you can even touch me?" Magneto arrogantly asked, like a god towering over the X-Men team while his cape gracefully billowed behind him. The mere sight of these insects irritated Erik, tempting him to kill them, but time was short. Soon, other heroes would arrive, causing many inconveniences.

Unsheathing his claws, Logan smirked crookedly - "Show off some more, you arrogant bastard."

"As always, so rude..." With a smooth wave of his hand, Magneto used his power to manipulate the metal in Logan's bones, making the man press into the cracked floor - "You're literally helpless against me."

Suddenly, steel beams began piercing Wolverine's body, causing him to scream in pain, though he tried to hold back. Before Erik could finish his minute diversion, a strong red beam from Cyclops's eyes flashed towards him. Unfortunately, the attack didn't reach its target, and Erik easily redirected it with a large sheet of metal.

"That's all," Magneto bid farewell with calm malice, surveying the wounded heroes - "Give Xavier my regards," he said with those parting words before disappearing into the sky.

Silence hung in the air, broken only by the heavy breathing of the survivors - "I thought we were done for..." Cyclops sighed in relief, sitting on the remains of the demolished building - "If it weren't for the information about other superheroes coming to help, he wouldn't have left us alive."

"Kh... We were damn lucky," Logan grunted, pulling the steel beams out of his body - "And thanks for distracting him," Wolverine smiled as blood trickled from his mouth - "Otherwise, he would have continued to perforate my body like cheese."

"You owe me one," Cyclops smirked.

"I'll buy you ice cream."

× Kira ×

Never had the walk home been so tense. I hid the arrow under my jacket and carefully made my way home, looking over my shoulder at every sound. Thankfully, the streets were more or less empty due to the nearby fight between the X-Men and Magneto's mutants. Thank God I wasn't at the epicenter. Once home, I immediately took out the arrow and began examining it from all sides, pondering my next actions.

What happens if I use it? Will I get a requiem? Then I'd become one of the unbeatable, but that's unlikely. Then what? What will the arrow do to me? Too many thoughts, and I'm too excited. Well, just standing and staring doesn't make sense, I have to use it as intended.

Entering the bathroom, I spread a film on the floor to avoid staining everything with blood, God forbid. Then, undressing, I stood in the middle of the mirror with the arrow in my hands.

"On the count of three..." I exhaled, figuring out which part of the body to stab the arrow into.

"One... Two..." With each number skipped, my heart began to beat faster and faster, and my vision blurred from the natural fear of death - "Three!"

And there! The moment when time freezes for a second, and you wait in terror for the onslaught of pain, but it doesn't happen because your hand stops a couple of inches from your body, preventing you from killing yourself. Noticing this, I also realized I was trying to catch my breath and how my body was covered in sweat. Too strong a survival instinct. Overcoming it won't be easy.

"Damn..." Clenching the arrow tighter in my hand, I growled - "I must do this! WITHOUT A SHRED OF DOUBT!"

And with a scream that seemed to dull the sense of fear, I stabbed the arrow straight into my heart, after which my brain was flooded with the sensation of pain and the feeling of imminent death as blood spurted from the wound.

Suddenly, the arrow began to vibrate and sink deeper into my body on its own, causing me to suffer even more. I fell to my knees, holding the wound, as tears dripped from my face and blood poured from my mouth. What's this warmth in my body? Am I dying? No, I don't want to die... What's happening? The sense of?