Wolverine hung suspended in the air, his adamantium skeleton caught in Magneto’s magnetic field like a fly in a web. The man of metal and the master of magnetism had fought this battle many times before and it always ended the same way - a stalemate. An unstoppable force vs an unbreakable object. Magneto could play with Wolverine all he wished - toss him through walls or puppeteer his metal skeleton like a marionette - but Wolverine always walked away, any injury healed.

Magneto twisted Wolverine slowly in the air. “There was a time when I feared we’d do this until kingdom come. Thankfully there are ways to defeat a man beyond merely killing him.”

Wolverine set his jaw, denying his enemy the satisfaction of a scream as his bones writhed within him, ripping and tearing muscles and ligaments. His healing factor knitted him back together near instantly. But it had never done anything to dull the pain. “Didn’t work the last dozen times, bub. What makes you think it’ll work this time?” he growled.

“Because after all our fights I’ve finally learned the chink in your invincible armor - the resonance frequency of your adamantium skeleton.”

Magneto focused his power, the swelling magnetic fields exciting the air into coruscating auroras converging on Wolverine. Logan’s teeth chattered in his skull as the metal within him began to vibrate faster and faster, and then… melt. His suspended torso and limbs went slack sand sagged as the supposedly indestructible material of his bones became a fluid with the consistency of treacle. His limbs became jellified, boneless tubes of flesh; his fingers running into shapeless lumps as if rendered by an AI.

“Now what should I make you into?” Magneto pondered, the mutant’s mutable bones under his command. “A pretzel?” A twist of his fingers, and Logan’s arms and legs knotted around themselves behind his back. “A piece of furniture perhaps? Ahh, yes, you would make a fine addition to my throne room.” Logan's limbs snapped out straight beneath him, his entire body forced into an angular conformation, his ramrod spine forming the back of a seat.

An imperious sneer formed on Magneto’s face. “This would already have killed lesser men but your healing will keep you alive as long I want, won’t it? Perhaps I'll just make you a quivering cube of flesh and pain to be stored in my dungeon? No… No, I know what I’ll do with you… When other men see your body, it will serve as a lesson not to cross the master of magnetism."

Magneto's fingers traced sinuous new shapes in the air.