Magneto stood atop a steel cross driven into the earth, while Marcus Worthington hung suspended in the air by metal cables, his legs kicking wildly as he tried to break free from the unyielding restraints.
Feeling the eyes of everyone below, Marcus, hanging in midair, felt utterly humiliated. Born into a prestigious family, he had received an elite upper-class education. At thirty, he formally took control of the family business, becoming one of the successful men at the pinnacle of this nation's pyramid.
While others his age were still struggling at the starting line, Marcus had long since reached the finish line. From his higher position, he looked down upon them. The people he associated with were either promising political figures or leaders of financial conglomerates. Years spent in high office had given this nearly fifty-year-old man an uncompromising manner and an imposing air of authority.
But all the composure and bearing of a man in power had now been utterly ruined by these damn Mutants. Like a thief from the Middle Ages, he was hung from a massive steel cross, as though awaiting a judge to pass sentence on his crimes at any moment.
His purple robes fluttered in the wind as Magneto looked down upon the layers of police cars surrounding him, as well as the special forces who had rushed over after receiving the distress signal. There was not the slightest trace of fear in his eyes—only contempt.
"Useless humans and useless weapons."
With a slight lift of his hand, every firearm held by the police flew from its owner's grasp. They turned in midair and aimed themselves at their former holders. Faced with the dark muzzles, everyone was terrified and dared not move, afraid that one careless motion would send bullets bursting from the chambers and