Although the Marvel world already possesses telepathy-blocking equipment, the cost is exceptionally high. Most of these devices require rare materials, making mass production impossible.
Even across the entire United States, it's estimated that only a few dozen people have access to such equipment, certainly fewer than a hundred. Is that enough? Even if that number were multiplied by ten thousand, it still wouldn't be sufficient!
Take the president, for example. To govern effectively, he must issue orders to subordinates. That's what governing is. Without subordinates, the president is powerless.
But those subordinates? They don't have telepathic shielding. If Professor X truly wanted to, he could bypass all top-level officials in the U.S. and potentially launch a nuclear war without resistance. It wouldn't even be difficult for him.
That's exactly why the upper echelons of the U.S. government dare not provoke Professor X.
Of course, if Magneto or the U.S. military tried something drastic, Professor X would also be the first to respond, such is the price of overwhelming power. Just like a certain crimson speedster in DC, having too much power makes you a target.
But Professor X is no fool. After being duped by Magneto last time, he's now at his most cautious.
And with Magneto's disastrous plan having completely shattered relations between humans and mutants, the old professor has grown deeply anxious, relying on constant psychic scans to monitor the world.
With Professor X on full alert, there are very few in the Marvel universe capable of plotting against him. At least, the U.S. military, unlike its DC comics counterpart, doesn't have that capability.
Naturally, many military personnel were stationed near the academy during this time, but they were all sent away by the professor in the end.
As for those telepathic defense devices, each assigned to high-ranking officials, they're not going to be handed over for the sake of mere soldiers.
Even so, the situation remains grim. No matter how powerful a psychic may be, there are limits. If the government launches an intercontinental missile remotely, Professor X is powerless to stop it.
So when his X-Men finally returned, the professor silently exhaled in relief. At least now, he wouldn't have to carry the entire burden alone.
Yet, seeing his old friend Magneto reduced to a withered husk, Professor X couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness.
In his view, had Magneto still been at full strength, this crisis would've been much easier to face. At the very least, Charles wouldn't have to worry about missile attacks. After all, while plastic or ceramic bullets exist, missiles built from non-metallic materials are unheard of.
Unfortunately… the old Magneto was now essentially useless.
The academy was in a state of unrest. No sooner had the X-Men returned, Professor X brought them straight to the conference room. There was no time for a welcome party.
Shin, the outsider, was treated as an honored guest and the X-Men's benefactor. The professor made no effort to hide anything from him, especially since he had witnessed the entire incident firsthand.
To be honest, Shin felt a bit guilty. While he hadn't seen the movie version of this event, it didn't seem in line with Hollywood's typical political correctness, or the superhero genre at large, for all world leaders to be wiped out at a summit.
Thinking back, during the initial battle, the X-Men had been stalled by fighting him. The skirmish dragged on and attracted security forces, which ultimately delayed their arrival and gave Magneto enough time to activate the machine at the Statue of Liberty.
Shin knew very well that he had unintentionally changed the timeline. Originally, the X-Men likely stormed the statue, fought hard, and rescued Rogue before Magneto could overload the machine.
To atone for the chaos he had caused, Shin decided to stick around. He wanted to see what the X-Men planned to do next.
…
Egypt. In the middle of a desolate desert.
A group of weary figures, dressed in tattered robes and covered in dust, arrived at a barren stretch of sand.
"This is the trump card you spoke of? The one that can help us turn the tide?" asked a man with a ruddy complexion and hedgehog-like hair, turning to the blind old man beside him.
On closer inspection, each member of the group bore physical signs of mutation. Clearly, they were all mutants.
"Ahem… Yes, this is the place I foresaw," the blind elder rasped. "An incredibly powerful mutant lies buried beneath the earth… This is our only hope!"
This blind man, once a street mystic in Cairo, was a mutant with a vague precognitive ability.
But his foresight was inconsistent. To receive clear visions, he had to pay a steep price.
Originally, the old man used a crystal ball in Cairo to perform his divinations. Thanks to his occasionally accurate predictions, he lived a peaceful and leisurely life.
He had a son and a granddaughter, both mutants. Their powers were minor, his son merely had golden pupils and some minor bodily deformities, but it never disrupted their life.
That is until Magneto's catastrophic plan nearly killed Egypt's leaders. The government flew into a frenzy, initiating a brutal purge of all mutants in the country.
The old man's son and granddaughter were slaughtered by the military. Only he managed to escape, thanks to his inconsistent foresight.
Devastated, the old man saw no reason to live. In a fit of despair, he blinded himself with poison, which in turn significantly amplified his predictive abilities. From that point on, he devoted his life to rescuing fellow mutants from the military.
Driven by vengeance and desperation, he continued to ingest poison to sharpen his foresight. Eventually, he discovered a vision of salvation, buried deep in the earth.
Though his body was withered and his time was short, the fire in his blinded eyes burned with terrifying intensity.
And yet, none of the surrounding mutants appeared disturbed. In fact, their eyes gleamed with hope. These individuals had long been outcasts. After the recent massacres, their hatred for humanity had reached a boiling point.
With nowhere else to turn, this truly was their last hope.
They exchanged glances, united by resolve. These weren't weaklings. Each had survived the military crackdown, and their powers reflected that strength.
Among them, one could manipulate sand. Another possessed detection abilities. Working together, and with assistance from the others, they excavated a massive hole in the desert.
One by one, the mutants descended, moving steadily deeper into the earth.
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