In the dimly lit and damp prison, a dozen young souls were huddled together, their faces etched with a profound sense of sadness, despair, and the ever-looming fear of death. The prison was engulfed in an eerie silence, disturbed only by the distant cacophony of artillery fire and the deafening bursts of machine guns. The sky above was a chaotic canvas, where various fighter planes and bombers tore through the air, their engines roaring as they waged war.

Each passing second bore witness to the relentless carnage of the Second World War, aptly dubbed the "meat grinder of war." Lives were extinguished, limbs torn asunder, and blood stained the earth beneath their feet.

In one forlorn corner of the prison, a young man leaned lifelessly against the wall, resembling someone in a deep slumber. However, in reality, he had already met his demise.

It was a late hour, and most of the prison's inhabitants were lost in the embrace of sleep, oblivious to the presence of the lifeless figure among them. Then, in a startling turn of events, the young man's once-stiff body stirred, and he awoke.

Confusion clouded his eyes as he surveyed his dark and humid surroundings. Hadn't he been sleeping in the comfort of his dormitory bed? How had he ended up here, in this dire place?

As he examined his shrunken, trembling hands, a single thought raced through his mind: he had transmigrated to another time and place. But why did this scene feel so hauntingly familiar?

Raising his gaze, he spotted another young man seated by a small window, gazing up at the stars. A chill ran down his spine as he realized the uncanny resemblance this boy bore to a figure from his childhood – Magneto.

Could it be that he had somehow landed in a Nazi concentration camp?

With unease gnawing at his soul, the young man approached the boy by the window and inquired, "What's your name?"

The boy turned to him and replied, "My name is Eric. How about you?"

An ashen pallor overtook the young man's face as he hesitated briefly before answering, "My name is Alex."

[Implantation completed]

A soft voice echoed in Alex's ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"Eric, did you hear that?" Alex asked, his voice quivering.

Eric shook his head, his attention still fixated on the starry sky beyond the window. He seemed to yearn for the freedom those distant stars represented.

Frail and unassuming, this version of Magneto had yet to discover his true potential. He remained a young man, enveloped in sorrow and dread, yearning for a taste of liberty.

[The gene collection system is activated. The host can collect any gene, and this system can enhance and bestow it upon the host]

The voice in Alex's head continued.

Alex was momentarily taken aback. Gene collection? He glanced at Eric, the Magneto of the future.

In the end, he decided to give it a try. Success would bring untold advantages, while failure held little consequence.

"Are you afraid?" Alex inquired once more.

Eric turned to look at Alex, a moment of hesitation in his eyes.

Then, he lowered his head, clutching his knees, and confessed, "I...yes, I'm scared. They've killed so many people. So many! They separated me from my mother, and I have no idea where she's being held or if they'll harm her. I'm terrified."

Eric's frail frame quivered, tears welling up in his eyes, and falling to the cold, unforgiving ground.

"Don't be afraid! We will survive! We must survive!" Alex reached out, gently patting Eric on the shoulder. Then, he discreetly plucked a strand of hair from Eric's head, placing it into the system's resource library.

This was the genetic sample.

Lost in his grief, Eric remained oblivious to Alex's subtle actions.

"Can we... survive?" Eric lifted his head, a glimmer of hope flickering in his despairing eyes. Even if it was but a comforting lie, in this bleak world, it was a glimmer of hope worth clinging to.

"Without a doubt, we will survive!" Alex smiled. He now possessed Magneto's genetic samples, and with the strengthened abilities, surviving the onslaught of World War II's horrors would become a feasible feat.

[Gene sample successfully adopted.]

[Analysis complete, magnetic control ability strengthened. Do you wish to integrate?]

"Integration," Alex declared, his choice resolute. Awakening was the only path to survival in the crucible of World War II. Anything less was a death sentence.

A thunderous roar resounded within his mind as a torrent of searing heat surged through his body. Every cell quivered, breaking and reforming in an endless cycle.

Sweat poured like molten beads from his brow, leaving his clothes drenched in a faint sheen of blood.

"What's happening to you?" Eric exclaimed, alarmed by Alex's sudden perspiration, which seemed tainted with blood.

With a twitch of his lips, Alex slowly exhaled, feeling a rebirth coursing through him. "I'm fine," he assured Eric. "In fact, I've awakened."

(End of this chapter)