If there was ever a phrase that perfectly described Deathmask, it would be: a speech so shocking it stops at nothing.
Maierin's smile gradually twisted as he forcibly resisted the urge to slap Deathmask into oblivion. Those who understood would call it an unconventional way of being an older brother. Those who didn't might think a gangster from decades later had traveled back in time.
The reason Maierin entrusted these children to Deathmask was twofold. First, he hoped the natural warmth that forms easily between children would help wash away the killing intent Deathmask had accumulated. Second, Maierin remembered that Deathmask had once had a younger sister, giving him at least some experience as an older brother. But now…
Maierin shook his head, pushing away the mental image of a brother leading his sister through the streets, forming a gang, and wreaking havoc.
"Forget it. Maybe he'll actually do a good job." Maierin chuckled and let it go. He turned toward a corner of the room—there was a more serious problem child in need of his attention.
"Hey, kid, can you tell Uncle your name?"
The little boy curled up in the corner didn't respond. He clutched his clothes tightly and shrank even further into the shadows.
"Don't worry. Uncle's not a bad guy. I'm here to get you out of here," Maierin said as he spread his cosmos outward. The warm energy gradually wrapped around the boy, and the fear and wariness in his eyes eased—just a little.
"They're dead…"
"What?" Maierin was taken aback.
"They're dead… all dead…"
"Who's dead? If you mean those bastards, yeah, they're all dead. They deserved it."
"My mom… she's dead… they killed her…" The boy's tear-filled eyes were filled with sorrow, but beneath the sadness, a deep-seated hatred burned.
Maierin sighed. "It's over now, kid."
Seeing that the boy wasn't resisting, he reached out and gently pulled him into an embrace, patting his back to comfort him. "Go ahead, cry. It's okay to let it out."
"Waaahhhh—"
Feeling the warmth of Maierin's arms, the boy finally let go. The pain he had bottled up burst forth in full force, and his wails filled the entire room.
Maybe it was contagious, but soon, the other children—who had been so numb and quiet—also started crying.
Deathmask shot Maierin a deeply resentful look. He had gone through so much effort to coax some smiles out of these kids, and now everything was undone. He'd have to start all over again.
Despite his annoyance, Deathmask didn't hesitate to comfort the children. Perhaps, seeing them like this reminded him of his own sister. Even though she had long since entered the cycle of reincarnation, he truly embraced the role of a big brother in this moment.
After a long time, the crying quieted down. Exhausted, the children began sniffling and yawning.
Seeing this, Maierin and Deathmask tucked each child into bed, deciding to figure out their future plans after they had properly rested. They would also wait here for Galan's return—and to see if Sebastian Shaw dared to show his face again.
Shaw had barely escaped death this time. Maierin hadn't bothered chasing him down, but that was just luck on Shaw's part. There would be no peace for him in the future. While Shaw and his subordinates weren't officially under the Führer's direct command, the loss of this facility—along with all the test subjects, materials, and data—was a devastating blow. Rebuilding in the short term would be impossible.
As for the other prisoners in the camp, Maierin didn't concern himself with them. He was a god, yes, but this was no longer the age of divine rule. This was the age of human governance, and people had to take responsibility for their own choices. If the children eventually went to Sanctuary, Maierin wouldn't force them into anything. Once they came of age, their future would be theirs to decide.
The night deepened, swallowing the last remnants of daylight. A bright full moon hung high in the sky, the only remaining source of light.
"The mythical era had much better scenery. You could actually see the stars back then," Maierin sighed as he gazed upward.
Just then, a golden streak shot across the sky, landing in front of him.
"Lord, I have returned," Galan reported.
"Good work. Get some rest—we leave tomorrow."
"But, my lord…" Galan scanned the area, sensing countless eyes lurking in the shadows.
"Ignore them. You'll be taking the children to Sanctuary tomorrow, so rest up tonight," Maierin said.
The watchful eyes belonged to German troops.
Though they were in the outskirts, the sudden loss of contact with a concentration camp had obviously drawn military attention. Arriving soldiers had found nothing but a massacre—dead bodies strewn everywhere, the entire camp eerily silent.
At first, they had tried sending forces to investigate. But after Maierin wiped out an entire mechanized battalion with ease, the military had shifted tactics, choosing to observe from the shadows instead.
Galan grimaced. "More escort duty?"
While Superluminal Flight and Instant Transmission made trips to Sanctuary quick, carrying passengers back and forth was still exhausting.
"They're just kids," Maierin said simply, explaining their situation. Hearing this, Galan stopped complaining. He and his brother, Saga, had been orphans themselves. If not for Sanctuary taking them in, they might not have even survived to adulthood. He understood what these children were going through.
"By the way, my lord, I have something to report." Galan suddenly remembered an interesting encounter.
"Sounds like you met someone interesting," Maierin mused.
"Indeed. When I destroyed the last factory, I met a remarkable man. His cosmos radiated kindness, courage, and strength… though he was a bit naive. If he trained, he could become a powerful Saint. But, unfortunately, he seems to be a believer in Jehovah."
"Oh? Who was he?" Maierin asked, intrigued. If this person had potential, he wouldn't mind recruiting him. The opinion of Jehovah? Irrelevant.
"He said his name was Steve Rogers. Wore a tight suit patterned with the Stars and Stripes, carried a shield. If I'm not mistaken, he's an American soldier. His combat skills are lacking, but his physique has reached the absolute peak of human potential."
"Steve Rogers?" Maierin blinked. He had expected to hear about some unknown prodigy, not Captain America himself.
On second thought, though, it made perfect sense. A man overflowing with righteousness, opposing Hydra? Who else could it be?
Not only that, but Galan had unwittingly stumbled upon a crucial moment in history—Steve Rogers' famous mission to rescue his best friend, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes.
As for recruiting Steve? Unlikely.
Steve Rogers was pure-hearted and resolute in his beliefs. He had never once put his faith in gods. Galan's assumption that Steve was a Jehovah's believer was probably just a misunderstanding—most likely influenced by Steve's frequent habit of saying "God help us."
Besides, the world's chaos was far from over. There would be plenty of opportunities to interact with Steve in the future. If Maierin truly wanted to win him over, he wouldn't need to pull strings now—Sanctuary's actions would speak for themselves in the years to come.
"Maybe I should intervene in this moment of history," Maierin pondered.
Steve Rogers' life was filled with tragedy. His greatest regrets? Losing Bucky and being frozen in ice for seventy years, missing his chance to dance with his beloved.
"Well, I'll think about it. If I happen to be there, maybe I'll lend a hand," Maierin decided. Right now, his priority was rebuilding Sanctuary. Everything else could wait.
The next day, the children, having cried out their grief and rested properly, seemed noticeably better. Their eyes had regained some light, their smiles more sincere.
They held no objections to going to Sanctuary. Having lost everything, staying in this place of suffering held no appeal.
Each of them, however, made Deathmask promise to visit them soon.
All except for one.
The boy from the corner refused to go to Sanctuary. He wanted to stay with Maierin.
His reasons?
First, he didn't want to leave Maierin's side.
Second… he wanted revenge.
The boy was the most mature among them. After witnessing how easily Maierin and Deathmask had wiped out the camp's oppressors, a seed had been planted in his heart.
"Teach me."
"Teach you what?"
"Teach me how to become stronger."
"And then take revenge?"
"Yes."
Maierin sighed. He didn't want the child to be consumed by hatred, but the boy's determination moved him. So, he agreed.
As for revenge? Maierin planned to guide him toward a different path over time. No one could live their entire life fueled by hate.
"Alright. You can stay with me."
"Thank you, Uncle Maierin."
"What's your name?"
"Erik. Erik Lehnsherr."
"You're called Erik?" Maierin's eyes widened. "Can you tell me what your ability is?"
"I can control metal."
Maierin froze.
It was confirmed.
The boy was young Magneto.
He had thought Galan running into Steve Rogers was already a huge surprise. But this?
This was a double yolk!