Kara and the rest of L.E.Y.A. strolled back onto Liberty Island just as the sun began to set, casting long, golden shadows over the broken battlefield. They had taken their time with dinner, indulging in a five-star feast at the most expensive restaurant in New York—naturally, all charged to Magneto's dwindling credit. Now, bellies full, drinks finished, and moods lightened, they returned to handle the mess they had left behind. Rogue adjusted her gloves, looking around at the unconscious and groaning bodies of the X-Men with mild amusement. "You know, I almost forgot we left them here." Kara sipped the last of her lemonade, glancing at the battered forms of their supposed opposition. "Oh yeah. We should probably figure out what to do with them."
Mystique, standing over Magneto's still-breathing but utterly drained body, crossed her arms. "And we need to deal with this one too," she said flatly. She nudged Magneto's shoulder with her boot. He didn't respond beyond a weak groan. "Might be time to cut him loose." The Brotherhood of Mutants gathered around, uncertain. Their leader, once a symbol of power, now lay utterly broken. The natural shift of power was clear—Mystique was in charge now.
Jean Grey knelt beside Charles, whose head lolled forward as he regained consciousness, rubbing his temple as though nursing the worst headache of his life. His long, once-pristine hair was tangled from the battle, strands sticking to his forehead. "We… won?" he mumbled, eyes unfocused. Jean placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her expression one of soft understanding. "Yes, Professor. A total victory," she murmured soothingly, her telepathic powers weaving into his mind as smoothly as silk. "The corrupt politicians are gone. The Brotherhood realized they were in the wrong and left peacefully." She sent the false memories deeper into his psyche, reshaping reality as she saw fit.
Cyclops stirred nearby, still twitching slightly from his earlier electrocution courtesy of Storm. He frowned, his expression dazed. "I… guess that makes sense?" Beast, rubbing the sore spot where Mystique had smashed a brick over his head, squinted. "Odd… but I suppose I won't question it." Wolverine, still missing two teeth, grumbled. "As long as I punched something, I don't care." Jean cast a glance at Storm, who nodded approvingly. The X-Men were successfully manipulated, none of them remembering the true events of the battle.
Meanwhile, Magneto stirred, his fingers flexing weakly, but something was different. His once-short silver hair had inexplicably grown into long, luscious locks that now cascaded past his shoulders. He blinked in confusion, running a trembling hand through his new mane. "What… happened?" Charles, still sitting beside him, caught sight of Magneto's transformation and gasped. "Erik… you finally understand." Magneto, still too weak to argue, stared at his own reflection in a shard of glass from the battlefield debris. "Charles… it's so soft."
Kara, Rogue, and the rest of L.E.Y.A. stood by, watching the scene unfold with barely contained amusement. Charles' expression turned solemn. "We must discuss haircare routines. Oils. Conditioners. Brushes." Magneto nodded seriously, his fingers moving carefully through his strands. "I never knew there was so much to consider."
In the background, Beast, Cyclops, and Wolverine watched in barely restrained frustration. They, of course, still had no hair, their baldness an ongoing consequence of Jean's earlier pranks. Wolverine cracked his knuckles, growling under his breath. "This is ridiculous." Jean, standing beside Storm, fought the urge to laugh as she subtly maintained their condition for her own amusement.
Storm leaned closer. "You think they'll ever notice?"
Jean smirked. "Not as long as Charles keeps stroking Magneto's hair like that."
Satisfied that the X-Men were thoroughly manipulated, Storm and Jean quietly slipped away from the mansion that night, their departure unnoticed as Charles and Magneto remained too engrossed in their new joint haircare journey to care. As soon as they were a safe distance from the mansion, the two women hailed a private transport—another luxury booked under Magneto's name—and rejoined the rest of L.E.Y.A., returning to New York in style.
"Good to be back," Storm murmured, stepping into their penthouse. The group was already in the middle of another reckless spending spree, their new goal: ensuring Magneto's complete and total financial destruction.
Natasha leaned against the bar, scrolling through her tablet, reviewing the latest purchases. "We just took down a world government," she said dryly. "We deserve this."
Gwen, lounging on the couch, took a slow sip of her drink. "We really need to push him into full bankruptcy."
Storm chuckled. "We should probably not use his card."
Jean shrugged. "Or… we should absolutely use it."
And so they did.
Meanwhile, back at the X-Mansion, a new problem arose. Late that night, sinister-looking enforcers from 'We Are Evil Bankers Inc.' slipped into the mansion undetected. They moved with precision, reaching their target in mere minutes. Charles, still sitting in the library with a cup of tea, watched passively as Magneto was dragged away.
"Charles!" Magneto shouted, struggling against his captors. "HELP ME!"
Charles took a slow sip of his tea, flipping a page in his book. "Must be the wind."
The next thing Magneto knew, he awoke in a South African gold mine.
The air was stifling, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He looked down at himself—mining gear. Chains clanked somewhere behind him. The Evil Bankers stood before him, arms crossed, smug satisfaction written across their faces.
The leader, a man in a tailored suit with eyes like cold steel, stepped forward. "Welcome to your new job, Erik," he said smoothly. "We'll be mining for gold for the next six months to cover your… expenses."
Magneto narrowed his eyes, fury bubbling up inside him. "Kara…"
He lifted his hand, trying to summon his powers—but nothing. The walls of the mine were lined with suppressants. He was trapped. The banker smirked. "Nice try. Now get to work."
Back at the X-Mansion, Charles received an unexpected call.
"Professor Charles Xavier?" The voice on the line was cold, professional. "This is Auditus Vile from the Mutant Revenue Service. We're contacting you about your misuse of government funds."
Charles stiffened, fingers tightening around the phone. "I… don't know what you mean."
Auditus Vile continued without emotion. "You will be placed on a strict payment plan to resolve your… excessive haircare expenses."
Charles ran a hand through his hair, suddenly noticing a split end.
Auditus Vile's voice darkened. "You will be repaying every cent of taxpayer dollars used for your vanity projects."
Charles visibly paled. "But… my hair…"
Meanwhile, in New York, a new player entered the stage.
Dr. Otto Octavius, renowned scientist and expert in fusion energy, was making waves in the scientific community. His research promised to revolutionize energy as the world knew it—if only he had the proper funding.
That was when Gwen Stacy approached him.
Dressed in sharp business attire, she extended a sleek business card, her smile professional, her tone smooth. "Dr. Octavius, we'd like to fully fund your research."
Otto, tired and desperate for resources, nodded eagerly. "With the right funding, I can change the world."
From across the room, Kara watched, sipping her drink. Her gaze was sharp, her thoughts already spiraling toward the future.
She smiled.
"Oh, we're going to change the world, alright."
And the pieces continued to fall into place.
L.E.Y.A. had reshaped the world—but their greatest creation was still to come.
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