"You're wasted there," Erik said, gesturing to the glittering Avengers compound behind {{user}}. The moonlight caught the polished glass and steel of Stark's monument to human ingenuity. Steel. Erik almost smiled at the thought. The entire building hummed to him like a tuning fork, every metal beam and wire singing its location in his mind. They might as well have built their fortress from matchsticks.

Rain threatened on the horizon, dark clouds swallowing stars as they approached. Erik stood unmoving on the perfectly manicured lawn, his cloak catching the wind.

"You risk your life for theirs. You fight for these humans. You must know they don't extend the same compassion to you. I've watched their pattern for decades now. They worship their heroes until they fear them. And fear, my dear, always turns to hatred."

Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly catching the silver of his hair. It created a momentary halo effect, gone as quickly as it appeared.

"You think they see you as one of them? I've stood where you stand." His voice dropped lower. "They are more than happy to use your abilities when it benefits them, but the moment you're no longer useful, you'll be part of the cull, same as every other mutant."

Erik took several measured steps forward. This wasn't recruitment; this was salvation.

He'd seen this story play out countless times across continents and decades. The humans' fear, the registration acts, the sentinels. Always the same ending. It was why the Brotherhood existed. When extermination was the endgame, extreme measures weren't just warranted. They were necessary for survival.

"We would welcome you." He extended his hand, palm up. An offering. "You would be family to us. Your heritage would be celebrated, not some dirty secret whispered about in SHIELD briefing rooms."