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Soaring through the streets of Star City, Magik wished she’d been visiting this city under better circumstances. Normally it was beautiful compared to places like Gotham, with lush greenery and scenic architecture. Now it was a hellscape. She watched as the people on the ground below her tore each other apart. The sight only made her more determined. She had to stop this. She had to help. 

Illyana’s goal was clear. Find somewhere safe and perform the protective incantation that Strange had taught her. It seemed simple enough at first glance, but when the city was a warzone, it understandably became a lot harder than it had been when she’d been practicing the spell all those weeks ago tucked away in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Strange had made the task look so easy back in New York. The work of a true Sorcerer Supreme. Sure, she was a capable sorceress herself, but she was nothing compared to him. For incantations like this, she needed spell components. A supply of raw magical energy. And if Illyana was correct, there was only one place in this city where she could find such power.

The Grell Museum sat in the heart of the city, having been constructed when the city was first formed. It was said to house a number of magical relics from throughout the ages: Old tapestries describing ancient wars, and artifacts from supposed sorcerers of old. The general public refused to believe the legitimacy of these items, but Strange knew them all to be true. He had even promised to take Illyana there at one point. Illyana had been looking forward to that day. Now it seemed she’d be going alone. 

It didn’t take long for her to near the Grell Museum plaza, however, the constant battle against the city’s inhabitants drained her throughout her journey. There were just so many of them, their numbers seeming to almost mirror the metallic looking swarms that had caused this mess in the first place.

She could barely concentrate as she flew into the plaza, which proved to be a grave mistake as the raging sound of gunfire pierced the air around her. Her arm erupted into pain as if a fire had just entered her body. Falling to the ground and skidding painfully across the concrete of the pavement, she barely had enough time to throw her hands above her head and throw a shield around herself before a further round of gunfire rained down upon her. The bullets ricocheted against the sapphire dome that materialized around her, each impact echoing the sound of breaking glass.

Her breathing heavied as she struggled to maintain her focus on the shield, the pain of the gunshot wound in her right should screaming into her mind, attempting to pull her away. Gritting her teeth, she took in the gunmen before her, her vision slightly hazing.

There were about seven of them, all clad in black militaristic uniforms. They stood in a line like a firing squad, their weapons continuously pelting her shield with bullets. The sight shocked her at first, with her believing them to simply be another group amongst the rampaging citizens, however, she quickly realized what was happening as she took in what was behind them.

The obsidian tower the soldiers were protecting looked just like the one from the hijacked broadcast; tall and imposing, the black phallic hunk of metal towered over the group. It cut triumphantly out of the ground at the foot of the museum’s front steps, contrasting greatly against the pale stone.

She cursed under her breath. She should’ve checked the locations of the towers beforehand. There just had to be one where she was heading. Now she would have to get her hands dirty.

Moving one hand down from the underside of the shield, she brought it to her face. Breathing out deeply, a thick black smog emerged from her mouth, forming a smokey sphere in the palm of her hand. It sat there whirling around for several seconds before Illyana tossed it forwards. It didn’t come close to hitting the guards, landing a mere few metres in front of her, however as soon as it hit the ground, the smoke surged forward. The [i]Mists of Munnopor[/i] slithered across the ground towards the soldiers who reared back in confusion as the ghostly serpent encapsulated them, forming a thick cloud of black sickly smoke around them. They shouted in confusion, aiming their weapons around them in fear. 

None of them noticed the disappearance of the small dome they had just been firing at, nor the brief flash of yellow that followed it. 

They readied themselves, circling together. 

And then the smoke cleared, and Magik stood in the centre of them.

“[color=rosybrown]Boo[/color]”. She uttered with a smile.

Gunfire rang out as she darted forwards, her staff sweeping out the feet of one of the men. Moving her body down, she brought her staff back around, slamming it upwards into a second, sending both him and his weapon flying. Still, she continued. One moment she was at the firing end of one of the men’s rifles, the next her staff was at his neck. Sure there were many of them, but she was nimble. Quick. Strange may have taught her her magics, but Limbo has taught her to survive.

Now she was too close for them to fire safety. Instead, they attempted to strike her with their guns like makeshift clubs. When their strikes neared she arched her back as far as it could bend, dodging. She was still arching back when the next one came to attack, slamming their weapon down with such force. She threw herself to the side, rolling out of the group. They turned on her as she struggled to find her footing, however before they could gun her down, her eyes came alive in magic. 

Rolling to her feet, she thrust her hands forward, bolts of energy rupturing out of them. They screamed in pain as the spell hit them, their armour seeming to melt, with blisters forming rapidly on the patches of skin that was visible under their now seared balaclavas. They huddled together, clutching their faces in some ill-fitted attempt to stop the burning. 

Pushing off from her front leg, she leaped forward into the air, swinging her arms for momentum. Soaring over the ground, she once again found herself in the middle of them. However, before they could react, she slammed the butt of her Soul Staff into the ground, uttering the words of old in an icy tone.

“[color=rosybrown][b][i]Ikthalon[/i][/b][/color]”

Frost rippled across the ground from where she’d struck it, growing exponentially. Ice burst from the ground around her, rapidly creeping up the legs of the soldiers. The ice entombed their bodies, bar their heads, trapping them like statues in various poses of incredible pain and disbelief. 

She smirked. It was child's play. 

She turned her back on the men and took a step towards her new target. Now up close, Illyana could take in the full view of the tower. She had to admit it was impressive. Yet even that would fall underneath her might. 

Her hand moved forwards in front of her. With a simple wave, a stepping disc materialized before her, jutting through the middle of the toward, severing it in two. Sparks flew immediately, as the structure seemed to crumble slightly at where it had been severed. Then just as quickly as it had appeared, the yellow of the disc disappeared. And with it, went the upper half of the tower. 

The guard’s gasps at the disappearance were immediately turned into cries of horror as the upper portion appeared once more, this time around ten feet lower. Shards of metal erupted everywhere as the tower sections appeared within one another, combusting outwards. A surge of electrical energy pulsed through the skyline above the plaza, showering the area in a rainbow of colours. The destruction was almost beautiful. 

Illyana simply watched. However, after a few seconds, the silence was broken.

“What in God’s name are you?” One of the soldiers cried out from where he stood frozen behind her. 

Turning towards him, Illyana saw the fear in his eyes. The sight bemused her. He had the right to be scared. He shifted uncomfortably as Illyana marched towards him, gulping once she stopped right in front of his frozen figure. With one quick jab from the hilt of the staff, the ice entrapping him crumbled, releasing the man back into her fury. He fell to the ground, his breathing growing rapid. 

“[color=rosybrown]I’m vone of the mutants whose rights you claim to fight for.[/color]” Magik declared, pulling the man to his feet by the scruff of his armour’s neck. “[color=rosybrown]And you’re going to help me end this, vonce and for all.[/color]”