The trip to their target wasn't too long, not with how quickly they were yet able to fly; everyone sat mostly quietly due to excitement or nervousness.
"Alright, we are getting close, and while we aren't looking for a fight, you better all be ready for one. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." The captain finally came down to the back of the jet, where the rest of them were sitting, to inform them.
Everyone nodded, got ready, and a few minutes later, they all got out of the jet. Out there, the rest of them were allowed to see what the members of Alpha-1 had seen from the cockpit.
Ironwood, which should have been a small town, had clearly gotten a major makeover. For while, none of them could say they had been to Ironwood in their own world; they were confident it looked nothing like this.
The area around them was a scene that fit right into Steve's time, war, war, and destruction everywhere.
In the distance, they could see what looked like tall metal walls and military-grade weapons lining them. How that came to be was a mystery to the group, but at least this place looked ready for war.
It sure looked like those weapons had been used a lot, though there were no signs of shells or broken robots anywhere. Clearly, this field was cleared out carefully after each fight.
The team stood in silence, taking in the sight before them. The town of Ironwood had transformed from a simple, isolated settlement into a fortified bastion of survival. The towering metal walls, bristling with military-grade weaponry, told a story of countless battles fought and won—against all odds. Yet, despite the apparent readiness for war, there was an eerie stillness in the air, as if the town itself was holding its breath.
Steve broke the silence, his voice low and steady. "This place... it's seen more than its fair share of battles. Whoever's inside those walls knows how to fight, and they've been doing it for a long time."
The captain nodded, his gaze sweeping across the fortified defenses. "Agreed. We need to approach carefully. Whoever built this won't be quick to trust outsiders, especially not ones coming from the sky."
His words quickly explained why they had stopped here and didn't continue closer to the town itself.
Bucky, who normally didn't say much, was the first to speak up after the captain. "So, what's the strategy for approaching?"
Everyone quickly looked to the captain for his answer.
"We will be going on foot, we will be ready for an attack, so no silly notion of going unarmed or something; this place is at war and likely values those with the abilities to fight more than not, so be confident and remember, we are here representing the Foundation."
The team nodded in understanding, the gravity of their mission settling in even more as the captain laid out the plan. They weren't just approaching a group of survivors; they were stepping into a warzone, and every move they made would be scrutinized by those who had likely been fighting for their lives for years.
"Alright, let's move out," the captain said, his voice firm but calm. "Stay alert, but don't provoke. We need to show them we're here to help, not to invade."
With that, the team began their cautious approach toward the town of Ironwood. The landscape was eerily quiet, the remnants of past battles evident in the scorched earth and twisted metal strewn across the ground. Every step they took was measured, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement.
As they got closer to the towering walls, they could see that the defenses were even more formidable up close. The walls were reinforced with layers of steel and concrete, and the weapons mounted on top were state-of-the-art, or at least they had been before the world had fallen apart. Whoever had built this place knew exactly what they were doing.
They could see some commotion on top of the walls, which might be due to them being spotted, and hopefully they didn't just focus on the robot looking members of Alpha-1.
When they were within a hundred yards of the main gate, a loudspeaker crackled to life, the voice that came through was sharp and commanding.
"Stop right there! State your business!"
The team halted immediately, their hands hovering near their weapons but making no aggressive moves. Steve stepped forward slightly, raising his hands to show they meant no harm.
"We're not here to fight," he called out, his voice carrying across the distance. "We're here to help. We've been sent to find survivors and offer assistance."
There was a pause, and then the voice responded, still filled with suspicion. "Help? We don't need your help. How do we know you're not working with the Sentinels?"
Opening the helm of his suit, the captain loudly answered. "There is no working with the sentinels; they know only death onto anyone they see."
His response seems to have been the right one, or at least amusing, since another gruffer voice sounded moments later. "Damn right, you are, it's kill or be killed out there. Wait a minute, and someone will come pick you up."
It wasn't the gate that opened, though; instead, after a few minutes, they saw someone on top of the wall, seemingly jumping down from the dozens-of-story-high constitution. Though, it only looked like that at first.
The speed of their descent was far too slow and measured. They were clearly flying down, and they could even see a clock of all things moving in the air behind the figure.
The team watched as a figure appeared at the top of the wall, stepping out onto a platform. With a commanding presence, the figure descended slowly, as if floating through the air. The crimson cloak billowing behind him and the metallic helmet atop his head gave him an imposing appearance, but none of the team recognized who he was.
As he landed gracefully in front of them, the earth beneath his feet seemed to respond to his power, the very metal in the ground subtly shifting. He stood tall, his piercing gaze sweeping over the group, assessing each one of them with a critical eye.
"Welcome to Ironwood," the man said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. "I am Magneto. This is my domain, and I do not tolerate intruders lightly."
Steve's eyes narrowed slightly, cautious but respectful. "We're not intruders," Steve replied. "We're here to offer assistance. We're not your enemies."
Erik studied Steve for a moment before turning his attention to the captain. "Assistance, you say? And what assistance could you possibly offer that we cannot provide for ourselves?"
The captain, showing no signs of intimidation, met Erik's gaze. "Much more than you might suspect, Magneto; we can offer much; we serve our own masters, and they can offer supplies, weapons, tech, or to take some of the noncombatants or wounded off your hands."
The captain tried his best to stay calm, but it was difficult when he knew who he stood before. He had been warned about a few of those so-called mutants, and Erik Lehnsharr was one of them.
His power over magnetic fields made him one of the most powerful mutants in the world and likely the worst possible match-up for them, wearing metal armor.
Magneto's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the captain's words. "so you say." he said, his voice a quiet rumble of contained power. "And yet, you come here dressed like that?" He gestured subtly to the metal armor the team was wearing. "Either you're very brave, or very foolish."
Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward slightly, his hands still raised in a gesture of peace. Yet before he could open his mouth, a ruthless look from the captain shut him up. "We are equipped to fight our enemies, the sentinels and their murder bots, not you or your people."
The tension in the air was palpable, with everyone on edge, waiting to see how Magneto would respond to their presence. The team knew they were in a precarious position; one wrong move could turn this already delicate situation into a deadly confrontation.
Magneto's eyes flicked over to the rest of the group, assessing them with a critical eye. "You say you serve your own masters," he continued, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of authority. "Who are they? And why should I trust you?"
The captain squared his shoulders, meeting Magneto's gaze directly. "We serve an organization dedicated to preserving and protecting humanity—both from threats within and without. We've been sent here to find survivors, gather intelligence, and, if possible, assist in the fight against the Sentinels. We're not here to make enemies, but to offer our help."
To his words, Magneto looked at him disdainfully. "Humanity? Those aren't my people." He said, the meaning clear enough to the captain who had been briefed about the situation, though Steve and the others had no idea what he meant.
"Mutants are part of humanity as well, maybe even the next stage; I assure you, we have little ill will towards your people, but even you must agree that the Sentinels are right; without humans, they can't be mutants either."
Magneto's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing at the captain's words. For a moment, the air around them seemed to crackle with tension, the weight of Magneto's power palpable. His voice, when he spoke, was laced with controlled anger.
"Humans have always feared what they do not understand," Magneto said, his tone cold. "And fear leads to hatred, which leads to violence. The Sentinels are the ultimate manifestation of that fear—a tool created by humanity to eradicate us, their so-called 'next stage.' You may say you harbor no ill will toward mutants, but history has shown that the road to hell is paved with good intentions."
Steve glanced at the captain, sensing the growing hostility in Magneto's words. He knew they needed to tread carefully. "We're not here to repeat the mistakes of the past," Steve interjected, his voice calm and steady. "We've seen what the Sentinels have done. We want to help put an end to this, to stop the senseless killing—of mutants and humans alike."
Magneto's gaze shifted to Steve, scrutinizing him.
A/N
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