Magnus

In the boundless universe, a tiny island floated in space. It was only slightly larger than a manhole cover and looked like an ordinary piece of rubble.

Yet at that moment, an oddly proportioned figure stood upon it. He had an enormous head and wore a sleeveless white robe like a tablecloth, with a blue cloak hanging limply behind him.

In his eyes, Earth gave off a faint glow. As he gazed at the vibrant planet, something small flew toward him.

Like a little Fairy without wings, it was a miniature Iron Man with something like an old-fashioned tape recorder mounted on its chest.

The blue-cloaked figure did not turn around, but he had noticed the newcomer as well. In a clear voice, he said, "Recorder, I am ready to tell you."

The tiny humanoid tape recorder landed on his shoulder and climbed up by gripping the cloak. "Perfect timing, Watcher. Eternity has been worrying about your workload."

"After tens of thousands of years, I have finally understood that the process by which certain things emerge and are resolved is more important than recording what I see. Many principles drive the course of events, and much knowledge requires me to process it. At this very moment, I am ready. Begin recording."

The Watcher stated his view—one principle, as he had done before. His tone was calm, and his gaze remained fixed on Earth.

The tiny tape recorder did not say much. He twisted a button on his chest, setting the tape-like object spinning.

"3, 2, 1."

This was a record of a special group. They had different names and lived among human society, yet they were rarely treated as people.

Mutants.

When human and mutant became two separate words, it meant things had grown complicated.

Mutants were usually described with