The young Magneto Erik Lehnsherr sat on the sofa in his home, pressing his fingers to his temples with his head slightly bowed.
Suddenly, an exceptionally loud wail came from behind him. Startled awake, he turned around to see a baby crawling out of the bedroom, howling as he crawled and reaching for the chair leg.
"Franklin... no!" Magneto reached toward the chair, and it flew into the air. But then another baby came wobbling out, somewhat older than the one crawling on the floor and barely able to walk. He let out a howl too, and the plates on the dining table began to tremble nonstop.
Then the baby on the floor turned around and went "Ya!" at the other one. The standing baby answered with an "Ah!" The crawling one began babbling again. Then the standing one started crying.
Magneto let out a long sigh, walked over, and scooped up the baby on the floor. Then he shouted toward the bedroom, "Wanda! Wanda! Take Thomas back inside!"
The red-haired woman quickly ran out, picked up the bawling Little Thomas, and patted his back to soothe him. Magneto leaned in and glanced around the room. Jarvis was playing with building blocks alongside the Billy brothers, while Carter was cleaning up the diapers that had just been changed.
Rather than a home, this was more like a massive daycare center—and a playground for four Omega-level mutant babies. Ever since this group childcare operation began, Magneto had not slept through a single night. Thank God for the Golden Apple; otherwise, his aged body might not have held up.
"Anya," Magneto called upstairs, "you need to hurry. You'll be late for school."
"I'm coming, I'm coming." A little girl with a backpack ran out. However, she existed only within Magneto's field of