"Think, boy! If we unleash these techniques for real, New York will vanish from the map!"
Magneto's voice cracked under the strain. His body shook as if the very metal in his blood rebelled against him. The power he'd gathered was tearing him apart, yet his tone carried panic—not rage.
Ryuuto just smirked. "Yeah? Shame for the city then."
Magneto's eyes widened. "You—!"
"Since you're so good at speeches," Ryuuto interrupted, his grin widening, "I'll let my jutsu do the talking."
The air pulsed around him. Chakra surged like a storm breaking loose. His hands blurred through a dizzying flurry of seals, the ground trembling beneath his feet.
Wind Style: Infinite Sandstorm Breakthrough!
The metal hurricane Magneto had conjured screamed toward him, blades of steel spinning at hypersonic speed. Ryuuto just stood there—grinning, hair whipping in the wind—as waves of sand erupted from the ground like a living beast.
The collision hit like the end of the world.
BOOM!
Light and sound tore through the skyline. Buildings shuddered. Cars lifted off the ground. Within moments, the cityscape became a wasteland of twisting metal and roaring sand.
Then came silence.
Ryuuto stood tall behind a massive golden barrier—a Shield of the Crane, his ultimate defense. Sand fused with mineral and chakra to form a wall harder than adamantium. The sheer presence of it made even Magneto's storm falter.
Ryuuto exhaled slowly, eyes burning with a dangerous calm. "My turn, old man. Try not to die too fast."
He clenched his fist.
Sand Waterfall Funeral!
The sand sphere around Magneto contracted violently. The air thundered as if the heavens themselves flinched. A wave of golden dust exploded outward—followed by a flash of red.
Blood.
When the dust settled, a crater yawned in the ground. Magneto lay half-buried at the center, armor shattered, his crimson cloak torn to ribbons.
From a distance, Ultron hovered at the battlefield's edge, his sensors flickering with static. "Pathetic," he muttered. "The old man actually lost. Seems if I want results, I'll have to deal with the brat myself."
His crimson optics narrowed on Ryuuto before he turned, streaking into the horizon like a blade of light.
Ryuuto, untouched by the storm, approached his fallen foe, sand swirling lazily around his feet. His smirk returned—half amused, half venomous.
"Still breathing, huh? Guess I didn't crush your pride hard enough."
Magneto coughed violently, forcing himself onto one knee. Blood dripped down his chin as he glared upward, defiant even in defeat.
"Finish it, boy. I don't kneel. I don't beg. Do it."
Ryuuto tilted his head. "You talk like you know what I want." His hand flicked, and a shuriken spun into his grasp. The tension in the air was suffocating.
From the distance came a voice—Charles, sprinting toward them, Rogue and Katie Dee close behind.
"Ryuuto! You did it! He's down!"
"Big brother! You're not hurt, right?"
Their words barely reached him. His eyes were still locked on Magneto. The man who had once ruled the battlefield was now just another body buried by his sand.
Then a new shadow fell over the wreckage. A Brotherhood transport ship descended, engines howling. Quicksilver stood at the edge of the ramp, face pale but proud.
"Step away from Magneto, Ryuuto," he shouted. "You've done enough. Don't make me—"
"Make you what?" Ryuuto raised a brow, voice dripping with mockery. "You think running your mouth will help? Even Magneto couldn't stop me. You? You're just background noise."
Quicksilver clenched his fists but didn't move. Tony and Natasha landed behind Ryuuto, both radiating quiet, lethal intent. The tension shattered any courage Quicksilver might've had.
Magneto finally pushed himself upright, trembling but conscious. "I lost because I underestimated you," he said, voice rasping but proud. "Next time will be different."
Ryuuto gave a lazy shrug. "Next time, try not to scream so much."
The sand around him began to recede, dissolving into dust. The storm was over—but the legend of the Red Mirage had only just begun.