They thought no one would find it.

Buried beneath the ruins of a decommissioned military base—sealed behind lead walls and bureaucratic lies—was a place that reeked of antiseptic and fear.

Erik hovered just above the cracked concrete floor, refusing to touch it. The metal in the walls trembled faintly around him, responding to a rage he wasn’t bothering to hide.

Chains still hung from the walls.

Shock collars lay scattered across steel trays. Restraint tables were bolted to the floor. Branding irons rested beside them—tools meant not for cattle, but for children born with the wrong genes.

Mutants.

His people.

He said nothing as the others stepped in behind him.

Wolverine’s fists clenched tight enough for the metal in his bones to creak. Storm turned her face away, swallowing the scream rising in her throat.

They had seen war.

They had seen hatred.

But this—

This was genocide conducted under fluorescent lights.

Magneto’s gaze swept the room slowly, taking in every chain, every restraint, every lie humanity had hidden underground.

A quiet reminder settled cold in his chest.

When the world builds cages for your kind—

There are no innocents left to protect.