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"You Want My Hammer?"

The flame chains conjured by the Sulfuron Warhammer split and twisted, weaving into two large nets that intercepted the missiles from Rowe's left and right.

"Boom boom-"

Amidst a series of thunderous explosions, the missiles burst one after another, painting the sky with fiery hues that soon faded away.

Rowe withdrew his hand, causing the flame chains to retract back into the Sulfuron Warhammer in his grip.

Flapping his holy light wings, he turned and soared towards the US-Soviet fleet, hovering in mid-air with an air of authority. "Leave this place—now!"

As he spoke, Forseti intensified the brilliance of the holy light emanating from his body. The radiant glow illuminated the Caribbean Sea, leaving the American and Soviet soldiers awestruck.

"Oh, God..."

"The gods have descended upon us!"

In the eyes of most humans, the effortless destruction of sky missiles and survival amidst the shockwaves of explosions were feats beyond mortal or mutant capability—surely the work of gods.

Human troops were thrown into confusion; some panicked while others offered prayers.

For the Soviets, staunch atheists, this situation proved especially challenging. Many officers immediately reprimanded their troops.

"Commander, what's our next move?"

The Soviet commander gazed at the sun-like figure in the sky, then spoke after a brief silence. "We retreat immediately and report back to Moscow."

"But what about those mutants..."

Soviet Commander: "Even against just those mutants, we're ill-equipped. Besides, a more formidable opponent has arrived. Let's go."

Soon, the Soviet fleet turned, departing the Caribbean Sea. The US military initially hesitated but followed suit upon witnessing this retreat.

On the coast, Moira MacTaggert, the sole standard human present, looked at Charles. "Who is he?"

Charles replied, "Remember what I mentioned on the plane?"

"He's the unknown entity stronger than Shaw, isn't he?" Hank McCoy recalled, vividly remembering their near-miss with a missile.

The Crimson Devil felt an inexplicable unease. Eyeing Forseti, who stood enveloped in divine light in the sky, he trembled. "I sense he means us harm."

Charles glanced at him. "While I dare not intrude on his thoughts, my intuition suggests he harbors no ill will."

"No, I feel a potent aura of menace... I must leave!" The Crimson Devil, increasingly unnerved by the holy light, teleported away.

Observing the departure of the human fleets, Forseti turned and descended to the shore, landing directly in front of Magneto.

"You shouldn't have done that, Eric."

Eric frowned cautiously. "How do you know my name?"

Forseti paused briefly, choosing not to explain, simply saying, "I just do."

Eric fell silent for a moment. "They attacked me first; I merely defended myself. Why stop me?"

Forseti spoke calmly, "If a baby strikes you, would you retaliate? You're far stronger than these humans; their missiles pose no threat to you. Or do you believe might makes right, regardless of the harm to the weak?"

Eric retorted coldly, "So what?"

Forseti nodded. "In that case, you needn't ask why I intervened."

"You consider me weak?" Eric countered.

"Strength is always relative," Forseti replied thoughtfully. "Every being encounters others stronger and weaker. To me, you are indeed weaker."

Eric clenched his fists.

Witnessing this, Charles interjected hastily, "Eric, please calm yourself!"

Eric remained silent. Despite Rowe merely neutralizing the missile threat, his gestures still exhibited formidable strength, instilling deep fear.

Yet, relinquishing his resistance against humanity remained unthinkable. Eric endured a lifetime of mutant hardships and witnessed humanity's myriad sins. His disdain and even hatred for a world dominated by humans ran deep, believing only a pure, bright mutant world could rectify this imbalance in his heart.

These thoughts took root early during his education under Sebastian Shaw. Though Charles momentarily swayed him, reality soon reinforced Eric's resolve.

Topple human tyranny; the world belongs to mutants!

—This echoed Eric's heart with unwavering conviction.

Forseti regarded Eric's unwavering gaze, grasping his intentions. "Engage with Charles more; he could be a valuable ally. But if you persist in this war against humanity, I won't permit it—even... at the cost of stopping you."

His tone turned icy by the end.

Eric, however, remained undeterred, viewing Forseti's warning as fuel for his resolve.

"Hmph!" Eric scoffed angrily. "Do you think you can make me yield?"

Before he could finish, he gestured with both hands, a massive surge of magnetic energy enveloping him.

Behind Eric lay shattered submarines and aircraft, their metal remnants strewn around—his weapons.

With a swift motion, these metal shards shot out like a torrential rain of bullets, hurtling towards Forseti.

Forseti remained unconcerned; these metal fragments posed no threat, being mere ordinary metals akin to bullets. Yet, dressed in attire from New York, lacking defensive properties, enduring a barrage of metal fragments could prove taxing.

Thus, as Magneto launched his assault, Forseti wielded the Sulfuron Warhammer to deflect the incoming metal fragments.

"Bang bang bang bang-"

A thunderous crash ensued as molten iron formed from the high temperatures of the warhammer. Within moments, the metal fragments lay scattered across the ground.

Realizing his attack had no effect on Forseti, Eric's thoughts raced. Fixing his gaze on the Sulfuron Warhammer in Forseti's grip, he reached out.

Forseti immediately sensed an invisible force attempting to wrest the Sulfuron Warhammer from his grasp.

Magneto's magnetic force proved unexpectedly robust—a revelation, given Forseti's earlier doubts about its influence over Uru Metal.

However, Eric had chosen his target poorly this time.

"You want my hammer?"

Before the words had even left Forseti's lips, the several-thousand-degree Sulfuron Warhammer hurtled straight towards Magneto.

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