Far out in the Atlantic Ocean, not far from the coast of New York State, there sat a small, lonely island.
From the outside, it looked peaceful.
The wind was gentle, the waves calm.
Anyone flying overhead would see nothing unusual—just another untouched patch of land surrounded by endless blue sea.
It looked like a pristine, uninhabited island.
But that peaceful surface was only an illusion.
Beneath the island lay something far more sinister.
The entire island had long ago been hollowed out from within.
Deep underground, layer after layer of prison facilities had been constructed.
Cold concrete corridors stretched endlessly.
Rows of prison cells lined the walls.
Security checkpoints stood at nearly every corner.
Teams of armed guards marched through the halls carrying rifles, their uniforms marked with the emblem of a soaring eagle.
Surveillance cameras were everywhere.
On the ceilings.
In the corners.
Along every hallway.
Together they formed an almost perfect surveillance network.
Any abnormal movement inside the prison would trigger an immediate and overwhelming response.
But the deeper levels of the prison were different.
Very different.
The bottom three floors had been constructed entirely from high-density plastic materials.
Not a single trace of metal existed anywhere in those levels.
No nails.
No screws.
No metal pipes.
Nothing.
The designers had gone to extreme lengths to ensure that metal manipulation would be impossible.
The second and third lowest floors were currently empty.
Only small patrol teams guarded them.
But the very bottom level was not empty.
At the center of that lowest floor stood a single enormous cell.
The cell was shaped like a giant hemisphere.
Its walls glowed faintly with a translucent gray-white sheen.
The ceiling and floor were made of the exact same material.
It looked less like a prison cell and more like a sealed laboratory chamber.
Inside the chamber, there was almost nothing.
Just a single chair.
And a toilet.
Sitting on that chair was an elderly man with white hair.
His eyes were closed.
He sat completely still.
If not for the faint rise and fall of his chest, anyone might have assumed he had already died.
It was difficult to believe that the entire lower prison structure had been designed just to imprison this one old man.
But that old man was no ordinary prisoner.
He was Erik Lehnsherr.
The man the world knew as Magneto.
Suddenly, the cell door opened.
A guard walked inside carrying a meal tray.
"Erik Lehnsherr," the guard said coldly.
"Time to eat."
There was no respect in his voice.
No fear either.
He tossed the tray onto the ground carelessly.
Food spilled across the floor.
Then he turned around and walked away without another word.
Magneto did not react.
He remained seated.
His eyes stayed closed.
He did not even glance at the food lying on the floor.
For several moments nothing happened.
Then—
A loud alarm suddenly blared throughout the entire prison.
Red emergency lights flashed across the corridors.
The guards froze.
"Level One Alert! Level One Alert!"
"Unknown forces are attacking the prison!"
"All off-duty personnel immediately arm yourselves and report to the east coast of the island!"
"Repeat—Level One Alert!"
The prison guard who had delivered the food looked terrified.
He glanced back at Magneto one last time.
Then he ran out of the cell without hesitation.
Only after the guard disappeared did Magneto finally open his eyes.
Slowly, calmly, he bent down and picked up the meal tray.
Then he began eating quietly.
As if the chaos outside had nothing to do with him.
---
On the island's surface…
Near the center of the forest…
A red-and-black figure dragged an unconscious guard into a patch of bushes.
Deadpool released his hand from the guard's mouth.
The guard immediately panicked.
"Don't kill me! Please!"
"HYDRA forever!"
"I know everything about the prison! Please don't kill me!"
Deadpool blinked.
"Buddy," he said slowly.
"Could you try being a little tougher?"
"At this rate you won't survive long enough for the honey trap scene."
Then he paused.
Something about that voice sounded familiar.
Deadpool pulled off the guard's mask.
He turned the man's face toward him.
"Bob?"
The guard blinked.
"Wade?"
Deadpool stared.
"It really is you."
He shook his head in disbelief.
"Aren't you working for HYDRA?"
"How did you end up as a prison guard in a U.S. prison?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"Don't tell me they offer full dental insurance here."
The unlucky guard was none other than Bob Dobalina, Deadpool's old HYDRA acquaintance.
Bob had originally joined HYDRA for a very simple reason.
They offered dental insurance.
Not even full coverage.
Just partial coverage.
But that was still enough.
Bob sighed miserably.
"Don't even ask."
"The second lowest floor of this prison is holding a major HYDRA figure."
"They sent several of us here as undercover agents."
"The plan is to rescue him."
Deadpool nodded thoughtfully.
"Well look on the bright side."
"At least Captain America isn't smashing your face with his shield every day."
Bob nodded reluctantly.
"True."
Then he asked,
"What about you, Wade?"
Deadpool shrugged.
"I accepted some dirty money from the Brotherhood of Mutants."
"My job is to rescue a crazy old man."
He leaned closer.
"Tell me something."
"Is that old man here?"
Bob scratched his head.
"You mean Magneto?"
"I heard rumors he might be held on the lowest level of this prison."
"But I'm not sure if he was actually brought here."
Bob wasn't an important person.
Whether in HYDRA or the prison, he was just a small-time grunt.
He had no access to real classified information.
Then Bob lifted his collar.
"I should warn you about something."
Around his neck was a thick metal collar.
"Everyone inside the prison has to wear one of these."
"If you don't have a fake one ready…"
"You won't even get through the front gate."
The collar was specifically designed to suppress mutant powers.
If Deadpool wore it, his abilities would likely be sealed.
His healing factor.
His strength.
Everything.
Only his cancer might remain active.
But that was before.
Things had changed.
Deadpool had the T-Virus now.
But the interaction between the T-Virus and his healing factor was… complicated.
If the collar suppressed one but not the other…
Things could become extremely dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Deadpool shook his head.
No way.
He absolutely could not wear that collar.
"You don't need to worry about that," Deadpool said casually.
"Just tell me everything you know about the prison."
Bob crossed his arms.
"Sure."
"Name your price."
Deadpool froze.
His eyes widened.
"Bob?!"
"You're actually asking me for money?!"
Bob shrugged.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Aren't we brothers?"
"Brothers from different mothers!"
Bob replied calmly.
"Even brothers settle accounts clearly."
"You taught me that."
Deadpool clutched his chest dramatically.
"You wound me."
Then he asked suspiciously,
"So will you accept dirty money from the Brotherhood?"
Bob nodded immediately.
"Of course."
"No one hates Franklin."
Franklin.
Slang for U.S. hundred-dollar bills.
Bob then explained the prison's structure and defense systems in detail.
Deadpool listened carefully.
Finally he nodded.
"Alright."
"I'm about to do something."
"Bob…"
"Are you ready?"
Bob sighed.
"As long as it's not about refusing to pay me."
Deadpool smiled.
"Of course not."
Bob relaxed slightly.
"Good."
Deadpool added casually:
"Refusing to pay is something you do when the payment time arrives."
Bob stared.
"…Damn."
BANG.
Bob's eyes rolled back.
He collapsed unconscious.
Deadpool calmly took Bob's ID card, communicator, and rifle.
Then he dragged Bob deeper into the bushes and hid him carefully.
---
A short distance away…
Inside the dense forest near the prison entrance…
Deadpool took out a syringe filled with glowing blue liquid.
It was the serum Raven had given him.
He stared at it quietly.
Then he sighed.
"What's meant to come will come."
Without hesitation—
He stabbed the syringe into his neck.
The liquid entered his bloodstream instantly.
Pain exploded through his body.
"AH—!"
Deadpool gasped.
Raven had conveniently forgotten to mention one detail.
This injection hurt like hell.
Soon, however, the pain faded.
And Deadpool felt something incredible.
A strange new sensation.
It felt as if he could suddenly sense every cell in his body.
Every strand of DNA.
Every tiny structure.
And more importantly—
He could change them at will.
Deadpool extended his hand.
His palm twisted and reshaped itself.
Skin.
Muscle.
Bone.
Everything shifted like liquid.
His hand turned into a strange mosaic-like structure before returning to normal.
Deadpool whistled.
"Nice."
He stored his combat suit inside his system space.
Then his body began changing.
His skin rippled like water.
His shape shifted.
His face transformed.
Within seconds—
Deadpool had become someone else entirely.
He looked down.
He couldn't see his toes.
Curious, he reached down and pinched.
"Hiss…"
"Feels amazing."
He sighed.
But the mission came first.
Deadpool closed his eyes.
He recalled Bob's appearance carefully.
Two tears slowly slid down the corners of his eyes.
"Goodbye…"
"My dearest…"
"Three-Pietro."
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