If Apocalypse had shown up in any other mutant world, he would have been hated by most mutants, especially the X-Men.

Because Apocalypse's idea was to wipe out every non-mutant and create a world where only mutants existed.

This was clearly against the X-Men's beliefs. Even the Brotherhood of Mutants wasn't that extreme.

After all, most mutants still had family or friends who were normal humans. They would never just stand by and let Apocalypse destroy all non-mutants.

But in this world, things were very different.

After so many years of war and hatred, any bonds between humans and mutants had already been crushed.

In both camps, there might still be a few who thought differently, but their voices no longer mattered.

Now mutants faced nothing less than extinction.

At this point, they had no sympathy left to stop them from calling out Apocalypse's madness.

So when they learned where Apocalypse was sealed, they decided to wake him. Things couldn't possibly get any worse than they already were.

In the end, they succeeded. And when Apocalypse learned what was happening, he didn't waste time on purges or power struggles. He simply stood with the mutants.

But as Magneto said, Apocalypse still died.

Yes, a Level Five mutant was powerful—much stronger than any Level Four. His abilities had no real weakness, and no one could easily counter him.

But even he couldn't withstand the endless numbers of Sentinels. On top of that, human technology was far more advanced than in the past.

And so Apocalypse fell.

His death hit the mutants like a thunderbolt, shattering the fragile hope they had only just begun to rebuild.

When Apocalypse first returned, many mutants believed they could finally fight back. Even those who had been hiding came out of the shadows.

But because of that, once Apocalypse was killed, humans struck again and wiped out even more of them.

That was the blow that finally crushed the mutants. After that, they never managed to gather enough strength to rise again.

That's why this plan—to use Kitty's power to change the past—was their last desperate chance.

When Professor sub-personality said Raymond was a friend from another world, no one doubted him.

His reputation was too great. On such a small matter, no one would question him.

But when he said Raymond wanted to help them, that was much harder to believe.

Everyone here had fought Sentinels. They had seen Apocalypse die with their own eyes.

What Raymond had just shown—defeating Magneto so easily—was impressive, yes. But they could all tell it was because his ability happened to counter Magneto's.

If it had been Colossus, who was also a Level Four now, Raymond might not have lost, but he definitely wouldn't have won so easily either.

And Colossus, like the rest of them, could take down one or two Sentinels. But when more showed up, even he couldn't hold out.

In fact, none of the Level Four mutants here could fight more than ten Sentinels at once. Not a single one.

For Professor, it was even more awkward for him, since his telepathic powers were useless against the Sentinels. They only worked on intelligent life forms.

But with current human technology, they could already mass-produce equipment that shielded them against psychic attacks.

That meant every telepathic mutant was out of the game—including Professor's other self.

For now, his main role was locating surviving mutants and acting as commander. When it came to direct combat, he was practically useless.

Raymond's earlier display of power and fighting ability looked impressive—strong enough to be ranked as a level-four mutant at least—but he was nowhere near Apocalypse's level.

Back then, Apocalypse swatted Sentinels like flies, crushing them with casual strikes.

To this day, many mutants still remembered that dominating presence. Thinking back on it still filled them with grim satisfaction.

Though Apocalypse eventually fell, his existence had forced the humans to pay dearly.

Could Raymond compare with that?

From their perspective, definitely not.

"Raymond isn't the type to boast. If he says he has a way, then he must have some confidence," Professor's other self said with a smile.

"Charles, this isn't a matter to joke about. Do you truly understand what you're saying?" Magneto frowned.

The two had known each other for decades—no one understood the other better.

Magneto could tell that Charles truly trusted Raymond, his words sincere and heartfelt.

More than that, he could hear the hidden meaning.

It wasn't just about Raymond helping them. The fact Charles chose to say this now, in front of everyone, revealed his real intention—He wanted to change the original plan!

The plan to use Kitty's powers to send Wolverine's consciousness back decades, to rewrite history.

Otherwise, there was no reason to bring it up publicly instead of speaking with him in private.

Because Magneto wouldn't agree easily. He would never casually abandon the plan he himself had proposed.

That plan had been born out of despair—even he had to admit mutants had reached a dead end.

It was the only path left to them. Risky, uncertain, but still a chance.

And now, Charles was putting Raymond on the table, clearly aiming to replace that plan.

Magneto couldn't accept it.

"Erik, I understand your concern. But your plan is already a last resort. If we've now found a better option, why not wait a little longer?" Charles tried to persuade him. "If Raymond fails, we can still use your plan. Isn't that reasonable?"

"No. I don't agree!"

Magneto's rejection was sharp. "Have you already forgotten what happened last time?"

"Because we gave others false hope—making them think we could fight back—they came out of hiding, stood with us, risked everything…"

"And you know how it ended. That battle cut our numbers in half once again."

"The Sentinels now are far worse than before, while the mutants are weaker than ever. Are you still dreaming of some impossible counterattack?"

By the end of his words, Magneto's face was full of grief.

But Professor sub-personality only looked at him calmly and asked, "You're afraid?"

"Don't talk nonsense!"

Magneto snapped back, "You've known me for so many years. Do I look like someone who fears death? I just don't want to waste this last chance to change everything!"

"If we fail again, then we won't even have a final shot left, do you understand?!"

Seeing his friend's agitation, Charles sighed, troubled.

Because this involved Raymond, there were many truths he couldn't say outright. And even if he did, Magneto likely wouldn't believe him. That left him with no choice but to remain vague.

Raymond patted Charles's shoulder, signaling him not to worry. He smiled and asked, "There's something I'd like to ask you, Magneto…"

"What is it?" Magneto replied.

"Can the past truly be changed?" Raymond looked straight into his eyes.

"Why not? Kitty's ability has proven it countless times. Even events that seemed inevitable could be shifted by different choices. Isn't that proof enough?" Magneto countered.

Raymond neither agreed nor denied, continuing calmly: "But you should know, her power isn't foresight. It only sends a consciousness back along the timeline, letting them warn and alter the past…"

"Yet aside from the one who's sent back, everyone else in that timeline still dies to the Sentinels—including Kitty herself, right?"

Those words made several faces in the room turn pale, including Kitty's own.

The one hit hardest, though, was Lucas Bishop.

Because Kitty's power caused damage to the traveler, and Bishop's energy absorption could mitigate it, he had always been chosen as the one to go back.

He had become used to this burden, always completing the mission dutifully.

But deep inside, he carried a dread he had never voiced — not even to himself, for fear of collapsing under its weight.

And now, Raymond had dragged it into the open.

Bishop could no longer dodge it. His knees buckled, and he fell to the floor, face twisted in torment.

Because what Raymond described… was the very question that had haunted him all along.

When he went back and changed what was meant to happen — did he truly save his comrades?

Time travel was never simple math.

Each time his consciousness returned, it replaced the Bishop of that timeline, overwriting him.

That meant the original Bishop of the past was erased, stolen from, so that he—the traveler—could take his place.

Nothing had truly changed.

The only constant… was that he himself had never really died.

And this tied perfectly to another theory of time travel: altering one point in the timeline never changes the original. It merely splits off into a new branch.

Raymond's words had forced him to face this unbearable truth.

It was the thought Bishop had always fled from—because if he accepted it, he would break.

Just as he was now, crumbling apart on the cold ground.