X-GENE OMNITRIX

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The battlefield, once silent in the wake of devastation, trembled violently as Magneto rose from the rubble like a vengeful specter. Chunks of concrete and twisted metal fell away from his battered form as he ascended. His breath came in ragged, painful gasps that rattled in his chest, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth in a thin crimson line. His once-immaculate armor was dented and scorched beyond recognition, hanging from his frame in tattered pieces—but the hatred burning in his eyes remained undiminished, perhaps even intensified by his humiliation.

The helmet that had shielded his mind from Mewtwo's telepathic assault lay in fragments around him, ripped away and discarded mid-battle like the shell of a crushed beetle. His silver-gray hair, usually hidden beneath the protective gear, was matted with blood and debris, giving him a wild, unhinged appearance. But Magneto's fury? Unyielding as tempered steel.

"You think you've won?" he spat, his bloodied lips curling into a defiant sneer as crimson-flecked spittle flew from his mouth. His voice, though weakened, carried the dangerous edge of a wounded predator. "You think you can stop me? You've merely ruined my plans—not defeated me. Never defeated me."

Mewtwo hovered twenty feet above the ground, Rogue's limp form cradled protectively in his arms. The young mutant's head rested against his lavender chest, her white-streaked hair contrasting starkly against his skin. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, her life force flickering dangerously after the strain of Magneto's machine. One of Mewtwo's three-fingered hands supported her back while the other curled beneath her knees, holding her with surprising gentleness for a being of such destructive power.

Magneto lifted his trembling hands skyward in a grand, sweeping gesture of defiance. Veins bulged at his temples as he channeled his remaining strength.

The earth beneath them shuddered like a living creature awakening from slumber. A deep, ominous rumble emanated from below as tectonic plates shifted minutely in response to Magneto's manipulation of the planet's magnetic field.

The battlefield came alive at his command, responding to his desperate, rage-fueled call with terrifying enthusiasm.

Chunks of metal from fallen helicopters, shattered weaponry, iron-rich soil, discarded bullet casings, broken pipes from beneath the concrete—everything that contained even the slightest trace of magnetism answered his summons. They rose in the air with an ear-splitting screech of grinding metal, twisting, bending, reshaping themselves into razor-sharp spears and arrows under his masterful control. The smaller pieces fused together to form larger, more deadly projectiles, their edges glinting wickedly in the fading light.

A storm of steel and destruction loomed behind him, blotting out the sky and casting an ominous shadow over the island. The metal fragments rotated in perfect synchronization, creating a swirling vortex of death that seemed to bend light itself around its edges.

It was a wall of death—Magneto's final stand.

The X-Men, watching from a distance beyond the field of debris, tensed visibly at the display of raw power. Cyclops reached instinctively for his visor, Storm's eyes began to cloud with white energy, and Wolverine's claws extended with a metallic snikt that was almost lost in the cacophony of churning metal. Even Mystique's usual composed demeanor cracked as she backed away slowly, her golden eyes widening in genuine fear at the sight of her leader's unbridled fury.

Mewtwo, still cradling Rogue protectively against his chest, stared impassively at the show of force. The young woman stirred slightly in his arms, a soft moan escaping her lips as she struggled to remain conscious. A thin trickle of blood ran from her nose—evidence of the trauma her body had endured. Mewtwo glanced down at her pale face momentarily, his expression softening for the briefest second before hardening once more as he returned his attention to Magneto.

Then, his eyes glowed with renewed intensity—twin orbs of cobalt fury that seemed to draw power from the very air around them.

From behind him, the river answered his silent call.

The Hudson's waters surged skyward in defiance of gravity, a vast oceanic force twisting into a swirling tsunami of destruction that dwarfed even Magneto's impressive display. Millions of gallons rose at once, creating a wall of water sixty feet high that curved ominously behind Mewtwo like the hood of a colossal cobra preparing to strike. Individual droplets hovered in the air like suspended diamonds, shimmering and refracting the light from his psychic aura in hypnotic patterns. The sky darkened further—not from Magneto's metal storm, but from the sheer mass of liquid fury behind Mewtwo, casting a preternatural twilight over the battlefield.

Mewtwo shifted Rogue in his arms, cradling her higher against his chest to keep her clear of the impending devastation. Her head lolled against his shoulder, white-streaked hair falling across her ashen face. He could feel her heartbeat—weak but persistent—against his own chest.

A voice, colder than the void between stars, rang out in every mind present—a telepathic broadcast that bypassed ears and resonated directly within consciousness.

"I still haven't gone all out."

The temperature dropped precipitously, frost forming instantaneously on metal surfaces throughout the battlefield. The X-Men's breath became visible in the suddenly frigid air. The sheer weight of Mewtwo's energy pressed down on the battlefield like gravity itself had been doubled, making movement difficult for anyone caught in its radius. Small objects—pebbles, shell casings, fragments of debris—sank deeper into the softened earth beneath the psychic pressure.

"But don't worry—"

The entire tsunami behind him lurched forward with devastating purpose, ready to consume everything in its path. At the same moment, his psychic energy formed a protective bubble around himself and Rogue, ensuring she would remain safe from the coming devastation.

"You won't be alive long enough to see it."

The two unstoppable forces—water and metal—hurtled toward each other like colliding galaxies, promising annihilation on a scale that would reshape Liberty Island entirely.

But before the devastation could unfold—before the two titans could unleash their final, mutual destruction—

A voice, calm yet commanding with the quiet authority of absolute certainty, cut through the chaos like a diamond through glass.

"ENOUGH."

A sudden, overwhelming mental force—invisible yet more tangible than any physical barrier—smashed into both combatants simultaneously. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once, a telepathic hammer strike of unprecedented power.

Magneto's eyes rolled back in their sockets, showing only whites, and his body collapsed like a marionette with severed strings, his limbs going slack as he crumpled to the ground. The floating metal storm he had summoned—thousands of razor-sharp projectiles poised to shred everything in their path—suddenly lost their animator, plummeting uselessly to the ground with a cacophonous crash that shook the island to its foundation.

Mewtwo staggered in mid-air, his psychic grip on the water faltering momentarily. The massive wave behind him wavered, portions splashing back into the river while the rest remained suspended, trembling like a beast straining against invisible chains. Despite the overwhelming mental assault, his arms tightened protectively around Rogue, ensuring she didn't slip from his grasp even as his own consciousness fought to remain intact.

The war was over in an instant—not by victory, but by intervention.

From the swirling dust of the battlefield, Professor Charles Xavier emerged, his wheelchair rolling steadily over the cracked earth with surprising ease. His fingers were pressed to his temples, his brow furrowed in concentration as he maintained the telepathic pressure that had brought down Magneto and checked Mewtwo's assault. His gaze, sharp yet sorrowful with the weight of too many such confrontations, locked onto the psychic Pokémon hovering above.

He had struck Magneto down with a single, precise telepathic attack—because he could. Because he had always been able to, had his ethics permitted it. A reminder to all present of why Xavier was feared and respected in equal measure.

And now, he stood between the victor and the fallen, a bridge between vengeance and mercy.

"This ends here, Alex," Xavier said softly, his voice carrying despite its gentleness. His hands lowered from his temples, though the latent power behind his eyes remained evident.

Mewtwo's glowing eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, his tail lashing behind him like an angry cat's. The psychic energy emanating from him pulsed with barely contained rage, yet his hold on Rogue remained gentle, cradling her against his chest with one arm while the other now extended toward Xavier in warning.

"It ends with his death," Mewtwo responded, his telepathic voice razor-edged with finality. The waters behind him surged forward slightly, responding to the spike in his emotional state.

Xavier shook his head, the gesture small but uncompromising. "No. That won't happen. We do not kill." His gaze drifted momentarily to Rogue's unconscious form in Mewtwo's arms. "We're better than that. She deserves better than that."

The silence between them stretched like a canyon, filled with the weight of opposing ideologies—pragmatic vengeance versus principled mercy.

The X-Men gathered behind Xavier, their stances wary but resolved. Cyclops stood at Xavier's right shoulder, hand still at his visor. Storm floated slightly above them, lightning crackling between her fingertips. Wolverine crouched at the ready, adamantium claws extended but his wild eyes focused on Rogue's limp form with undisguised concern. Beast hung back, medical kit already in hand, his intelligent eyes assessing Rogue's condition even from a distance.

Mewtwo's gaze was pure, unfiltered wrath—the concentrated fury of a being created for battle who had been denied his kill. The psychic energy around him crackled audibly, distorting the very air.

"Spare me the moral speeches." His tail flicked impatiently, the air humming with lethal intent as rocks and debris began to levitate around him. "Either you move—"

The ground beneath Xavier cracked with a sound like thunder, fissures spreading outward in a spiderweb pattern as Mewtwo's power pressed down upon the earth itself.

"—or you struggle."

Rogue stirred in his arms, her head rolling against his chest as she murmured something incoherent. Mewtwo glanced down at her briefly, his expression flickering with something almost like concern before hardening once more.

Tension surged like a live wire connecting everyone present. Would the battle resume? Would Mewtwo, fueled by his righteous fury, tear through them all, even while protecting the fragile human in his arms?

Then—

A faint, ragged gasp broke the standoff.

Mewtwo's head snapped down toward Rogue, his attention immediately diverted from Xavier. In his arms, the young mutant had grown alarmingly pale, her skin taking on an almost translucent quality in the fading light. A fresh trickle of blood ran from her nose, and her breathing had become more labored. Her body, fragile and human in his powerful arms, trembled violently from shock and weakness. Her life force was fading rapidly—the strain of Magneto's machine taking its final toll.

Xavier, seeing his moment, pressed forward, his wheelchair gliding silently across the fractured ground. "Do you really want to waste time fighting here—or do you want to save her?" His voice was gentle but insistent, appealing not to Mewtwo's conscience but to his priorities.

Mewtwo hesitated, his gaze locked on Rogue's face. One of his three-fingered hands moved to brush a strand of white hair from her forehead with surprising tenderness.

Xavier continued, his voice unwavering. "You've fought harder than anyone today. You've proven your power beyond question. But this battle has taken its toll on you as well." He gestured subtly toward Mewtwo's form, where faint flickers of blue energy were beginning to disrupt his outline—the first signs of his transformation becoming unstable. "You won't be able to maintain this form forever. If you truly care about her, then take the X-Men's help—and save her."

Mewtwo exhaled sharply, a sound like escaping steam. The suspended water behind him sloshed unsteadily as his concentration wavered.

He despised Magneto with every fiber of his being. Every cell in his engineered body screamed to finish it, to end the threat permanently. But…

His grip tightened protectively around Rogue as she shivered involuntarily against him, her breathing growing more labored by the second.

His energy was waning—he could feel it now that the battle fury had begun to subside. His perfect form was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain, the edges of his consciousness starting to blur. Xavier was right—if he didn't leave now, if he wasted his remaining strength on continuing this fight, she might not survive.

A decision had to be made.

His eyes dimmed gradually, the intense blue glow receding to a softer hue. The waters behind him settled with a final, reluctant surge, flowing back into the Hudson River with a sound like a sigh. The levitating debris around him clattered to the ground.

He turned to Xavier, his final words delivered with glacial precision.

"Next time I see him—he dies." It wasn't a threat but a promise, delivered with absolute certainty. "No moral code will save him then."

Adjusting his hold on Rogue to cradle her more securely against his chest—one arm supporting her back, the other beneath her knees—Mewtwo rose higher into the air. The blue aura around them intensified briefly as he created a protective field to shield her from the acceleration.

With a final burst of psychic energy that sent ripples through the air itself, Mewtwo ascended rapidly, taking Rogue with him—her white-streaked hair streaming behind them as they soared upward. Her face rested against the curve where his shoulder met his chest, her breathing steadying slightly as they climbed higher above the devastation below.

Together they vanished into the clouds, leaving behind the battlefield, the war, and his unfulfilled vengeance… for now.

On the ground, Xavier watched them disappear, his expression unreadable.

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