Erik Lehnsherr let out a long breath, and from the bottom of his heart he said, “Thank you.”
Angela smiled and pressed her advantage.
“If Mr. Lehnsherr wants to thank me, then come back to Xavier’s School with us. This is no place to recuperate, after all—it could come under attack again at any moment. And Magda’s and Nina’s wounds will need redressing. If I’m the one to do it, I promise the two of them will be left with almost no scars at all. Beauty matters to a woman, and a scar from something like this would be a constant reminder of the whole horror… What do you say, Mr. Magneto?”
Erik Lehnsherr’s once-iron resolve to stay away from Charles began to waver.
He genuinely did dread the thought of Magda and Nina being hurt again on his account, and he genuinely did think she had a point.
It looked as though the mission might pull through after all.
Skipping a system task wouldn’t really cost her anything, of course, but every task she finished meant one more supply pack—and what was wrong with that?
Maybe with a lucky streak she’d crack open four golds in a row.
She drifted off into a happy little daydream, conveniently forgetting that her own luck had always been strictly blue-and-white: nothing but commons and rares, never once a gold.
Angela struck while the iron was hot.
“Mr. Magneto, your movements have almost certainly been marked already. Returning to Xavier’s School with us now would be the safest choice, and I’m sure Charles would be delighted too.”
Erik Lehnsherr mulled it over, his brow knitting faintly.
“You’ve only just met Charles. Why are you so eager to do his work for him?”
Angela blinked, ran swiftly back over their few exchanges, then shook her head with a smile.
“No, Mr. Magneto, you’ve got it wrong.
I’m not trying to talk you round for Charles’s sake.
I’m doing it for Magda and Nina, out of a doctor’s concern for her patients, and out of plain human compassion.
As an aside, while I am indeed an employee of Charles’s, I suspect that’s not quite the kind of ‘subordinate’ you have in mind.
I’m only the school physician at Xavier’s, nothing more.”
“The school physician.” Erik Lehnsherr repeated the words, and the corner of his mouth suddenly curved into a smile unsettling enough to crawl down a person’s spine.
“Good. You’d best stay just a school physician, forever. The world out there is dangerous, and it was never made for mutants. Don’t put your faith in all this so-called ‘friendship and equality.’ It’s a lie.”
Scott and Jean both wore looks of clear disagreement, though neither moved to argue the point just yet.
Listening to this little speech, well-meant at its core yet made to sound like a veiled threat by the face and tone delivering it, Angela held a two-second moment of silent mourning for the man’s hopeless expression management, then nodded with a smile.
“Mr. Magneto, I understand your meaning, and I thank you for the advice. In any age, in any place, those who hold power are either revered or feared. It has always been so. There is nothing new under the sun.”
Erik Lehnsherr’s sharp ear caught the meaning tucked away inside that line.
As one of the two leaders of the great mutant factions, he had always been keenly attuned to questions of conviction and where a person chose to stand—which was precisely why he was so skilled at stirring up new mutants and bringing them into the Brotherhood.
“From the sound of that, you really aren’t one of Charles’s subordinates. That herd of fools he raised on his teachings will never grasp it. Whenever you fancy a change of work, you’d be welcome to come find me.”
Angela arched an eyebrow.
“So what you mean is, you’ve already agreed to come back to Xavier’s School with us?”
“No.
Only to America.
Poland isn’t safe anymore.”
“Mm.
I think Charles ought to look into giving me a raise.” Pleased to have reached an understanding with Magneto, Angela turned to Scott and Jean.
“We can start getting ready to head back.”
Scott couldn’t help turning to look at Jean, screaming for help inside.
Did I tune out for a few minutes?
How did Mercy suddenly get Magneto agreeing to come to the school?
He didn’t agree to anything just now.
Jean rubbed her temples, and for a moment her pose looked uncannily like the Professor’s classic one.
I think it’s because Magneto just tried to recruit Angela for the Brotherhood—that’s how Angela knew he was planning to return to America.
The Brotherhood isn’t in Europe, after all.
It was right about then that the two of them heard Angela say, “If you really do want to hire me, I should warn you, my rates aren’t cheap. The two surgeries just now, plus the earlier treatment, with a little discount and the loose change knocked off… let’s call it twelve million.”
Scott nearly went over sideways.
Twelve million—how on earth had she arrived at that figure?!
Magneto, clearly, had been startled by the price as well.
“That much?”
“Is it much?” Angela gave Erik Lehnsherr a wink.
“They say a life is priceless, but a doctor’s visit still costs money. One treatment runs a million. One resurrection, five million. Surgery, twenty thousand. Do the math yourself—doesn’t it come to twelve million? Of course, you are a friend of Charles’s, so for my immediate superior’s sake I could think about waiving the bill entirely. In which case… wouldn’t you owe me a favor or two in return?”
Scott was screaming on the inside.
Surgery, twenty thousand.
Treatment, a million.
Resurrection, five million.
That’s outrageous! This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Jean answered him, perfectly composed.
Strictly speaking, if a single resurrection could be bought for a mere five million, I imagine every rich person on the planet would lose their minds over it.
Scott kept right on ranting.
The problem is, Magneto isn’t exactly rich.
At that, Jean fell quiet.
Wealthy mutants were thin on the ground to begin with.
Professor X was rich, and so was Warren Worthington III; the Brotherhood wasn’t short of funds either.
But as for whether Magneto—now living in hiding in Poland—had any money…
One look at this house.
One look at the clothes and the jewelry on Magneto’s current wife.
Flat broke, clearly!
Erik Lehnsherr, the renowned and dreaded Magneto, once a man of standing, now reduced to hauling bricks and scavenging scrap to get by, faced down a colossal twelve-million treatment bill and made his decision without flinching.
“I’ll go to Xavier’s School and see Charles.”
“Deal!” Angela snapped her fingers.
“A wise choice.”
Scott and Jean abruptly went silent.
We’re not going to get charged a million a visit at the infirmary from now on, are we?
Surely not… right?
As if she’d heard the two of them think it, Angela smiled and said to Erik Lehnsherr, “If it’s one of Xavier’s students or staff, I won’t charge any extra treatment fee, though the cost of medicines and other consumables still applies, naturally.”
Faced with Mercy’s give-an-inch-take-a-mile demands, Magneto held the line.
No.
He would absolutely not come crawling back to the X-Men just because he couldn’t cover a medical bill.