Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 6049 - 5065: The Fighter’s Fate (11)

The monastery is just on the other side of the garden, not far from the main building, and there are agents patrolling there as well. Clark asked Jonathan and Martha to find the Father, while he himself returned, only to see Magneto alone in front of the podium, leafing through the Bible.

"You..." Clark began to speak but suddenly didn’t know what to ask.

"I do know something about you," Magneto seemed to know what he intended to say and sighed lightly, "You saved two mutants, don’t you remember?"

Clark was a bit stunned and started searching his memory, but after reviewing all the entries related to mutants, he didn’t recall saving any two mutants.

"Are you mistaken?" Clark said, "I’ve never saved any mutants."

Magneto stopped his actions and turned to look at him, and with just that look, Clark felt his hairs stand on end. It wasn’t because Magneto’s gaze was particularly aggressive, but because his eyes were so calm, like a deep, ancient well, making Clark feel something was amiss.

He worked in journalism, and after the two universes fused, he had reviewed numerous news pieces from the other world. Reports about Magneto were countless, mostly portraying him as terrifying and cruel.

But now, upon closer inspection, Clark didn’t see cruelty; Magneto didn’t seem as repugnant as depicted in the news, not the kind to take lives with a wave of his hand like a demon. On the contrary, he appeared calm and wise.

This difference in cognition and perception is the root of Clark’s uneasy feeling. If this is merely Magneto’s disguise, then he is ten thousand times more terrifying than imagined; if he is truly a respectable elder, then what about the deeds described in the news?

"You saved them," Magneto continued, "One time at Wosoko Station, you lifted the entire train carriage, preventing the corrosive gas from harming people. Another time at Karakel Park, you lifted the broken bridge, keeping those people from falling into the water."

"But they weren’t mutants," Clark said, "Though mutants caused these disasters, the ones I saved were ordinary people."

Magneto gently shook his head. "Those two kids, one 14, the other only 9—they didn’t know they were mutants. If they killed so many, how would they survive?"

Clark stood there, speechless. At that time, he was too busy saving people, without the chance to care about what kind of mutants caused the disaster. However, his super brain vaguely remembered there were indeed two children, crying more miserably than the victims.

"You’re a journalist, right?" Magneto asked again, "How do you think the news reports would describe these two kids? Sons of Satan? Devils not yet grown?"

Clark was silent. He knew journalists wouldn’t spare the two just because of their young age. They would face overwhelming criticism; even adults can’t withstand such public pressure, let alone two young kids.

Clark knew that ordinary people could give birth to mutants, and mutants themselves hadn’t control over whether they are mutants. They couldn’t decide what types of abilities they’d have, when they’d manifest, nor even know they are mutants. From that standpoint, they are innocent.

But the frenzied hyenas feeding on hot topics wouldn’t care, including his boss, the editor-in-chief of The Daily Planet. He could imagine the poison words that the old man would use against mutants—double the city, double the newspaper, double the public pressure; just thinking about it gives one goosebumps.

"Not just this time," Magneto turned another page in the Bible, "You’ve reversed such disasters many times. I have naturally heard of you. If you have any trouble, come find us, the mutants are willing to help."

Clark never dreamt of hearing such words. He indeed saved many ordinary people during disasters caused by mutant ability outbursts but had never specifically saved mutants, nor shown them any favor. Magneto’s attitude left him bewildered.

"No need for that," Clark muttered softly, still filled with apprehension over Magneto’s deeds. The other side either didn’t act or, when they did, it was a major upheaval he didn’t want to get involved in.

"You..." Clark hesitated. He actually wanted to ask about those past events but found it somewhat impolite, after thinking briefly, he chose a safe angle instead.

"Isn’t Professor X here?" Clark asked.

"He has other matters to attend to," Magneto said, "Mutants have many troubles, especially more after the cosmos fused."

Clark walked to the podium, standing opposite Magneto, looking up at the statue of Jesus. "How much of those reports are true, and how much is slander?"

"Do you care about this?" Magneto lifted his eyelids for a glance at Clark, then said, "I’m not very concerned."

"The fate of mutants is destruction," Magneto continued, "No matter how much we strive or resist, the mutant race will face destruction repeatedly."

"Because of mutant ability, because of crossing time and space, or even someone’s sudden malice, some unexpectedly appearing item, mutants will be like a runaway car, plunging into the abyss of destruction."

Jonathan leaned his body slightly forward, as he always felt there was deeper meaning in Magneto’s words, as if they were meant specifically for him.

"I have tried to save, tried to recover, but the more I try, the more sudden the tragedies come." Magneto suddenly showed a smile tinged with coldness, "However, mutants will never truly be destroyed; after an utter catastrophe, we all come back with all sorts of bizarre justifications."

"Why is that?" Jonathan was very puzzled. He had never studied the history of mutants carefully, but if things were truly as Magneto said, where mutants are destroyed at every turn only to be resurrected soon after, it would indeed be peculiar.

Actually, the fact that mutants haven’t been exterminated already seems to defy sociological theory. A group with such destructive power would surely have been completely ostracized from human society from the moment they first appeared.

In the formation of human society, a mechanism would certainly also develop to deal with mutants. This mechanism would gradually be perfected until it could stably banish or kill all dangerous mutants. Otherwise, humanity might not have developed to today.

Yet, despite mutants existing thousands of years ago, having followed human society from slavery to feudal...Read more following this

"He needs mutants to exist, so they will always exist and not be completely wiped out. But he doesn’t want mutants to live too well, so we are constantly in crisis, wandering without a home." Magneto’s voice echoed in the cathedral, with a deep, seasoned resonance that sounded like another kind of hymn.

"I have witnessed countless destructions and rebirths, seen countless people continuously reincarnated in pain. Compared to that, what the papers say is not important; lies and slander are nothing more than insignificant barbs on the crown of thorns, leaving no scars on me."

Suddenly, Jonathan felt a tremendous grief hit him, causing his chest wound to ache faintly. The fate of a whole group is too heavy to bear, and voiced by such an elder, it adds an indescribable melancholy.

"But I am lucky," Magneto said, "I have someone to go through all this with, I am not alone, and having no end has instead become a good thing."

Jonathan couldn’t help but think, if he were also caught in this endless cycle, who would he choose to accompany him? Diana’s face flashed by, somewhat unclear, and he didn’t feel it was the time to think about this now.

"Why does it have to be like this..." Jonathan was not really asking Magneto, it was more like asking God, or even himself.

When he previously read those news reports, upon knowing the existence of mutants, or even having witnessed their destructive power firsthand, he didn’t perceive any anomaly; he didn’t realize it was unreasonable for this group to exist in such a manner.

And when Magneto told him all this, he saw the light and couldn’t help but wonder what dictated the fate of the mutants, or what kept his super brain from noticing such an obvious loophole.

Jonathan raised his gaze to Jesus’s face, with the statue in the Catholic church always emaciated, his head slightly bowed when nailed to the Cross, filled with compassion between his brows, as if he truly atoned for something for humanity.

What should humanity atone for? Jonathan asked himself in his heart. What about the mutants? And Magneto?

Jonathan fell into deep thought, fully entering the Psychic_Battlefield, wanting his super brain to tell him an answer. Yet, after wandering for a long while in the sea of thoughts, long enough to have seen a complete cycle of evolution in the cosmos, he still heard no answer.

Suddenly, the instincts of the Man of Steel pulled him back to consciousness. Jonathan’s eyes widened in shock as he looked in one direction. Magneto had already sped over with the swiftness of the wind, reflected in Jonathan’s dilated pupils were several dark figures, surrounding his parents.

His thoughts hadn’t fully awakened yet, but his body already took action. He rushed into the backyard, seeing an assassin’s dagger slashing past Martha’s neck.

"Mom!!!!!!" Jonathan stormed forward, but the next second, the air around him seemed to congeal, or rather, the magnetic field became as viscous as glue, slowing everyone’s movements down.

"Close your eyes." Magneto’s deep voice echoed in everyone’s ears. Martha instinctively shut her eyes, followed by the sound of a muffled splatter, as warm liquid splashed, and the thick scent of blood spread.

Martha didn’t see, but Jonathan did, the assassin attacking Martha exploded from the inside out, leaving no limbs or visceral fragments, the entire person turned into a cloud of scarlet blood mist, not even falling to the ground, but dispersed in the air.

Jonathan quickly swooped down, taking both of his parents away from the ground. Martha was trembling in fear but didn’t open her eyes. Jonathan saw Magneto land on the ground, glancing around, and whisper, "Court of Owls..."

Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly, blurting in surprise, "Court of Owls?!!"