Post by Magneto on Jun 19, 2008 18:31:38 GMT -5
The foolish humans always found it amusing to have their infamous tanks guarding such places as the one he was about to infiltrate. Of course, the pests never considered such a threat to come through the front gates with such ease as the man exemplified. Armed soldiers ran in every which directions, their screams muffled by the sound of a tank being crushed flat.
The cause of such chaos was a mere man; a man that merely hovered in the air above the base with one arm outstretched and a scowl across his face. A dark cape trailed around him, caught in the gentle breeze. While many merely assumed the man overhead was some sort of insane superhuman, he was not.
No, he was much, much more.
As he moved his outstretched hand toward him, a large chainlink fence merely crumbled outward as if some unseen force had removed its ability to stand. The crushed tank was lifted unceremoniously into the air, seemingly by its own accord, before it went sailing through the air at a watch tower nearby.
The lone figure slowly lowered his body to the ground, and the moment that his dark boots touched the gravel he began to walk forward with an air of authority that few could ever hope to match. In fact, the meager force of remaining soldiers dropped their weapons before abandoning their posts and scampering away. But, it suited the lone man just fine, as it meant less of a hassle. While it was rather irritating that he found no opposition along his short journey to a large hangar, it meant that his task would be accomplished only that much quicker.
A small and sleek silver jet sat inside, already prepped for takeoff. There was not an airstrip on this particular base, but it would not be needed. No, this was a newly designed jet, courtesy of America’s top engineers. Unlike the majority of the stealth jets that the simpleton Americans preferred to have at their disposal, this certain model was more to his liking. It had vertical thrusters and could easily reach Mach 10, an impressive speed for such a small model.
But, perhaps the most intriguing aspect of all was that this tiny machine before him had capabilities that no other jet, to his knowledge, ever had. Onboard was the most sophisticated system of electromagnetic pulsors; an arrangement so large that combined with his powers, would be capable of leveling half of the US.
While his plans for the object were still in the air, the figure knew that the object was one that was most desirable, one that he needed to have at his disposal. The scowl he wore into the compound was now replaced by a smirk, one that was the only sign of his inner victory at having located the object that he had been searching for. With a look of boredom upon his face, he lifted himself back into the air and merely removed the roof of the hangar without ever once blinking, sending the large and offensive object sailing through the early evening sky.
Unfortunately, the Homo Sapiens outside had regrouped, meager though their forces were. While their bullets sailed through the air, they had no effect. In fact, their meager attempt to stop the caped man merely seemed to bounce off of an invisible field of some kind that surrounded him completely. With a scowl once again upon his face, he began the delicate procedure of lifting the sleek silver jet out of the hangar, lest it be damaged.
No, this man was not just some superhuman.
This man, this super-powered being, was a self-proclaimed god among the insects that fired at him futilely. He was their superior; he would be their demise.
He was Magneto.
The cause of such chaos was a mere man; a man that merely hovered in the air above the base with one arm outstretched and a scowl across his face. A dark cape trailed around him, caught in the gentle breeze. While many merely assumed the man overhead was some sort of insane superhuman, he was not.
No, he was much, much more.
As he moved his outstretched hand toward him, a large chainlink fence merely crumbled outward as if some unseen force had removed its ability to stand. The crushed tank was lifted unceremoniously into the air, seemingly by its own accord, before it went sailing through the air at a watch tower nearby.
The lone figure slowly lowered his body to the ground, and the moment that his dark boots touched the gravel he began to walk forward with an air of authority that few could ever hope to match. In fact, the meager force of remaining soldiers dropped their weapons before abandoning their posts and scampering away. But, it suited the lone man just fine, as it meant less of a hassle. While it was rather irritating that he found no opposition along his short journey to a large hangar, it meant that his task would be accomplished only that much quicker.
A small and sleek silver jet sat inside, already prepped for takeoff. There was not an airstrip on this particular base, but it would not be needed. No, this was a newly designed jet, courtesy of America’s top engineers. Unlike the majority of the stealth jets that the simpleton Americans preferred to have at their disposal, this certain model was more to his liking. It had vertical thrusters and could easily reach Mach 10, an impressive speed for such a small model.
But, perhaps the most intriguing aspect of all was that this tiny machine before him had capabilities that no other jet, to his knowledge, ever had. Onboard was the most sophisticated system of electromagnetic pulsors; an arrangement so large that combined with his powers, would be capable of leveling half of the US.
While his plans for the object were still in the air, the figure knew that the object was one that was most desirable, one that he needed to have at his disposal. The scowl he wore into the compound was now replaced by a smirk, one that was the only sign of his inner victory at having located the object that he had been searching for. With a look of boredom upon his face, he lifted himself back into the air and merely removed the roof of the hangar without ever once blinking, sending the large and offensive object sailing through the early evening sky.
Unfortunately, the Homo Sapiens outside had regrouped, meager though their forces were. While their bullets sailed through the air, they had no effect. In fact, their meager attempt to stop the caped man merely seemed to bounce off of an invisible field of some kind that surrounded him completely. With a scowl once again upon his face, he began the delicate procedure of lifting the sleek silver jet out of the hangar, lest it be damaged.
No, this man was not just some superhuman.
This man, this super-powered being, was a self-proclaimed god among the insects that fired at him futilely. He was their superior; he would be their demise.
He was Magneto.
