As soon as Joseph finished speaking, the blazing, fire-lit space seemed to freeze. Neither Magneto nor Mystique said a word. They simply stood there, stunned, as if their minds couldn't process what they had just heard.
Magneto blinked. He thought, for a brief moment, that he might be hallucinating.
"You…"
His voice cracked from disbelief as he stared at Joseph. After several seconds, he finally let out a low, cynical chuckle.
"You want me… to be the vice principal of Xavier's School?"
The tone in his voice shifted quickly into a sneer.
"You've got to be joking."
And truly, who could blame him for reacting that way? The suggestion sounded absurd—laughable even.
Who was he?
He was Magneto, the infamous master of magnetism. The iron-fisted leader of the Mutant Brotherhood. The lifelong rival of Charles Xavier. The man who had fought against the X-Men for decades with unwavering conviction.
And now, Joseph—a student from that same school—was offering him a desk job at the one place he loathed more than any government facility?
That infuriating little paradise of mutant pacifism?
"Have you lost your mind?!"
Mystique added her voice to the disbelief, her previous fear of Joseph's power vanishing in the face of what she now saw as sheer lunacy.
She stared at him like he had completely lost his grip on reality.
This had to be a joke.
No… it had to be delusion.
There was simply no other explanation.
"I know this sounds difficult to believe," Joseph replied calmly, his voice not shaken by the backlash in the slightest, "but tell me… what exactly is so ridiculous about it?"
He turned to Magneto, and his tone changed. There was no mockery, no smugness—only sincerity.
"Xavier's School is on the brink of a major transformation. We need experienced educators—people with presence, with power, with vision. You're one of the most influential mutants alive today. And your Brotherhood? It's made up of battle-hardened elites."
He raised his hand slightly as he emphasized each word.
"So why shouldn't we invite you?"
Magneto narrowed his eyes. "You're serious?"
His mocking demeanor shifted into one of guarded curiosity.
As much as he wanted to laugh again, something in Joseph's expression made him pause.
The sincerity. The conviction.
It didn't feel like a trap. It didn't even feel like an insult.
It felt… real.
And that was far more unsettling.
As leader of the Mutant Brotherhood, Magneto had long prided himself on being a keen judge of character. He could read deceit like an open book. But Joseph?
He didn't seem to be playing games.
Have I gotten too old to understand how the younger generation thinks? Magneto wondered, not without a trace of bitterness.
Recalling the recent information Mystique had brought him—Xavier School preparing to go public, mutants no longer hiding in the shadows—it didn't seem impossible.
Still, he needed confirmation.
"You mentioned open enrollment," Magneto said slowly. "Are you talking about… disclosing your existence to the world? Letting all young mutants join your school in broad daylight?"
Joseph nodded. "That's exactly what I mean."
Magneto's gaze sharpened. "And in this new world you're building… you want me to serve under Charles? With the other X-Men still as professors?"
"Of course," Joseph replied immediately. "They're not going anywhere."
A cold smile touched Magneto's lips. "Then you must know the history I share with Charles. With the X-Men. The grievances between our sides. You think I can just sweep all that under the rug and take a position under him?"
Joseph didn't flinch. "I'm not asking you to resolve your past. I'm asking you to help shape the future."
Magneto stiffened.
There was something about the way Joseph said that—so calm, so matter-of-fact—that made his mind spin.
And then, an idea struck him. A dangerous, suspicious idea.
"…You're not just inviting me to teach," he said, narrowing his eyes. "You're inviting me to check and balance the X-Men."
He took a step forward.
"You're worried Charles will dominate the academy. That he'll guide it too softly. You want someone strong enough to counter him, don't you?"
He paused, the pieces clicking together in his mind.
"You want to divide the power—share control over Xavier's School."
The theory made a twisted kind of sense. It explained the offer. It explained Joseph's tone. And it even impressed Magneto a little.
If that was the plan, it was bold.
It was risky.
And it was smart.
But Joseph only frowned, letting out a sigh as he looked at him like one might look at a stubborn old man.
"As the leader of the Brotherhood, can't you think beyond petty conspiracies for once?" Joseph said bluntly. "You've spent your life preaching about mutant unity, about survival. And now, when that chance is right in front of you, all you can see is power games?"
His voice took on an edge of disappointment.
"Mutants are still on the brink, Erik. We're at risk of being hunted, imprisoned, erased. And the only way forward is together. X-Men, Brotherhood—there should be no sides anymore. Just us."
He gestured around them, to the invisible walls of the world he was creating.
"If you can't see that, then maybe you really have wasted the best years of your life."
Magneto recoiled as if slapped.
Wasted…?
The words hit him like iron spikes. Sharp. Brutal. True?
The idea that he had achieved nothing despite decades of fighting—that his whole ideology had amounted to dust in the end—it triggered something deep inside him.
His expression darkened.
"Hah… I won't deny my failures. Maybe I did fall short. But what makes you think you will succeed where I couldn't?"
His voice was louder now, angrier.
"You think you can charm the world into loving us? That a few PR tricks will erase their fear of what we are?"
His fists clenched at his side.
"Let me tell you something. The day Xavier's School opens its doors to the world is the same day the human armies show up at your gates!"
He practically spat the words out.
But Joseph didn't flinch.
Instead, he smiled.
"I figured you'd say that," he said calmly. "But you're wrong."
He leaned forward slightly.
"You might not know this, but Xavier's Manor no longer exists in the same place. We moved it. Shielded it. Reinforced it. Let the armies come—they won't find it. Not unless we want to be found."
Magneto's brow furrowed. "You moved the entire campus?"
Joseph nodded. "We had help. Magic help."
Magneto was beginning to feel like he was living in a world that had outpaced him.
Every new sentence out of Joseph's mouth felt like another blow to his worldview.
"But then," Magneto asked slowly, "if you're so powerful, and Xavier's School is now untouchable… why ask for my help at all?"
Joseph's answer came without hesitation.
"Because Charles, while admirable, is too gentle to lead alone. His ideals create peace, but not protection. He produces elites—intellectuals, pacifists, dreamers. But not warriors."
Joseph looked Magneto in the eye.
"And Xavier's School needs both."
For a moment, Magneto said nothing.
Then, slowly, something unexpected happened.
He laughed.
It started as a chuckle—low and sarcastic—but then it grew.
And it wasn't bitter.
It was amused.
Because for the first time in a very long time, someone had not only challenged him—but understood him.
Joseph continued.
"You and Charles are like Dumbledore and Grindelwald—opposites who wanted the same thing but took different roads to get there."
He raised a finger.
"But if those ideas could collide, could merge within the walls of Xavier's School…"
He let the sentence trail off, the implication clear.
The students would thrive.
They would be forged in a fire of compassion and strength. They wouldn't be sheep or warmongers—they'd be capable. Balanced. Intelligent and resilient.
The kind of people the mutant race desperately needed.
"The world doesn't need one ideology," Joseph said quietly. "It needs options. It needs mentors who represent more than one path."
"And between you and Charles, there's no better contrast."
He paused, then added with a knowing smile, "Besides… we've already found our third principal."
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