Marvel's master of cosmic magic-Chapter 598

"Don’t you dare walk away!"

Bob staggered out of the restaurant, clutching his right hand, his face twisted with rage and pain. Something was definitely broken. He didn’t care anymore whether Wanda’s boyfriend had a dangerous background. He’d been humiliated, injured, and laughed at. Swallowing that was impossible.

Several classmates followed, brushing sauce and spilled drinks from their clothes. No one tried to stop him. Curiosity pushed them forward.

They froze at the entrance.

Bob stood there, rigid, staring upward in mute terror.

The others followed his gaze and felt their blood run cold.

Six armed helicopters hovered above the street, rotors pounding the rain-soaked air. Mounted guns were angled downward, perfectly aligned with the restaurant entrance, as if waiting for a single command.

One helicopter slowly ascended. Inside, Rowan Mercer stood beside Wanda, looking down at the group as if they were insects beneath glass.

Then the helicopters vanished into the clouds, gone as suddenly as they had appeared.

Silence swallowed the street.

Inside the aircraft, Wanda finally found her voice.

"...Who are you?" she asked softly, her nerves still buzzing. "You really are my brother’s friend?"

Given Pietro’s usual habits, this level of power felt unreal. For a fleeting moment, she even wondered if her brother had stolen something far worse than usual.

Rowan smiled. "Yes. A friend."

With a casual gesture, the helicopters dissolved like smoke. Before Wanda could react, the world folded, and they were standing in front of her house.

"Don’t worry," Rowan said calmly. "We’re the same kind. Mutants. What you saw back there was just something I created."

"The same kind..." Wanda echoed, still processing the jump.

Rowan rang the doorbell and continued, "You’ve probably seen it on the news. I teach at a school for mutants. Your brother’s part of its security team. That’s why I came."

Understanding dawned slowly, then all at once.

"Pietro... helped save the world?" she asked, stunned.

In her mind, her brother was reckless, unreliable, always hiding in basements and running from consequences. Not someone involved in world-changing events, let alone the incident in Cairo everyone had been talking about.

"Afternoon, little sister!"

The door flew open before the bell finished ringing. Pietro grinned at her, as energetic as ever.

What followed was a long, emotional family discussion.

Voices were raised. Tears were shed. Old fears were dragged into the light.

In the end, their mother agreed.

Not because it was easy, but because she understood the truth. Pietro and Wanda could never truly live free lives among ordinary people. One hid from the world, drifting without direction. The other carried her power like a secret illness, shaping every decision around restraint and fear.

Among their own kind, at least, they would have space to breathe. And it wasn’t goodbye forever.

After packing and saying their farewells, Rowan took them back in an instant.

One month later, on a secluded island in the Atlantic, the Mutant Empire was officially founded.

Professor Xavier announced its existence to the world, inviting mutants everywhere to join. World leaders were shown, briefly and unmistakably, what mutant power could do when unified. Enough to end any doubts. Enough to force negotiations.

Rowan stayed out of politics.

He focused on teaching. Guiding. Helping students stabilize their abilities and their minds.

And quietly, patiently, deepening his bond with Wanda.

Two months later.

Morning light spilled across the bed as Rowan drew the curtains open. Pale arms emerged from beneath the covers and tugged him back down.

"It’s the weekend," Wanda murmured sleepily. "No classes. Stay."

Rowan laughed softly and joined her again, the rest of the world shut firmly outside.

Over time, he’d noticed something important. When Wanda was relaxed, emotionally open, truly alive in the moment, the chaos within her softened. Became easier to understand. Easier to share. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Trust mattered.

Connection mattered.

And that, more than force or technique, was the real shortcut.