Price of Glory

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: Been a long time, hasn't it? I was watching it rain one night and wanted to write something. I don't do Magneto often enough. R/R because you love me.

What will the history books say about me? I wonder about it from time to time when I find myself in contemplation of my life's work. Will they speak of me at all I wonder? After all, history is dictated by those who control the present. If my dream fails, will there be any room for me in ancient books of forgotten lore?

I contemplate this as I listen to the rain outside my window. I don't really enjoy rain. I never have, really. I watch it fall in cold sheets and sigh. What will the historians write about Magneto? Will they say he was a great man or a horrible monster? Will they proclaim him a noble leader of his people or an insane tyrant? Whatever the case, I'm sure they will never give anyone the whole story. The history books will chronicle the deeds of Magneto but never speak of the trials of Eric Lehnsherr. No, no one will remember the man. All anyone will remember is the myth.

I know what they think when they look at me. They see me on the news as I carry out my agenda and think me to be a madman. Yes, me the genocidal lunatic. They paint wonderful pictures in their minds of me, the foreign alien invading their tranquil existence. I am the other, the enemy, that which is unlike, and therefore less than, them. But do they really see? Do they really know? No, of course they don't.

The TV newscasters and the newspaper reporters rarely speak of my past. I'm sure most do not know of it at all. Perhaps if they did they wouldn't be so quick to judge. Would you be if you knew? Would you label me as a tyrant for merely trying to ensure my people are given the same rights as anyone else? Would I be so heartless if you knew that your species helped take away the only woman I have ever loved? Who would be the animal then, hmm?

The papers don't speak of my life before my cause. They do not tell of my deep love for my cherished Magda or the love I still have for my children. Indeed, the human race seems hell bent on turning my twins against me. My eyes turn towards the window. My mind reaches back to that night. The news reports don't tell you about that night, do they? They neglect to mention that I once again had to sacrifice family and love for my cause and my dream.

I am not a cruel man. If I were indeed some sort of tyrannical madman as I am portrayed to be I wouldn't still feel guilt over what I did to Wanda. Would a heartless psychotic regret a decision made almost nine years ago and still let it haunt him to this day? No, he wouldn't. I am not a heartless monster but simply a man who recognizes what must be done and has the strength of will to do so. Leaving Wanda in that asylum was not a whim or a refusal to accept my parental responsibilities. It was a decision reached after agonizing days weighing the few options I possessed. It was a necessity to sacrifice her. I have come too far to leave anything unchecked. I cannot afford any liabilities. I am the savior of an entire race. I cannot let one girl destroy what I will build, daughter or no daughter. But still, I regret my decision. She is so much like my Magda and I have missed my darling wife so much. Sacrifices must be made but they never come easy. That is the cost one must pay for a dream to become a reality. Sometimes I wonder if the reward is worth the cost.

What will history say? I have often wondered about it. Should I fulfill my dream, will history portray me as a god? Am I some messiah who has delivered his people from bondage and into the Promised Land? I should hope that history will be kind but truthful more than anything else. I am not perfect nor am I divine. I am simply a man, one who is capable of great things but still mortal nonetheless. They don't show you that though. I have seen numerous news reports on my activities. I find them quite entertaining actually. But still, they can't seem to get it right. To the average public, I am the personification of evil. I am larger than life and equally as terrifying. I am the unseen threat that makes you lock your doors at night or become overly suspicious every time you step into an airport. I am your worst nightmare because my eyes and ears and agents could be anywhere at any time. I am the societal scapegoat in this culture of mass hysteria, paranoia, and fear. Quite a picture they paint of me, eh?

Still, I hope history will show the whole story. Perhaps I am extreme or violent. Perhaps I am maniacal. But consider my life. Consider what I have given up in order to achieve my ideals. Is it a wonder then that I hate humanity? Does it really seem inconceivable that I would like nothing more than to rub out your species like a stain? That is what they all leave out, all the injustices and cruelties humanity has perpetrated against not only me but also against all mutantkind. I hope history will show that I am not some paranoid maniac but that I am lashing out against those who dealt me the first and the cruelest blow. I pause as I stare out the window at the rain. There is one final thing I would like history to say about me. I want them to chronicle not only the triumphs of Magneto but also the failings of Eric Lehnsherr. Recording the victories is not enough. To fully understand one's struggle, you have to learn of the prices he has paid. History does not, will never, tell you about that, tell you about the price of glory and immortality.