[Whatever lingering humorless amusement was on John's face now filters away for a stoic expression of horror; he stumbles back a few steps as the gun floats closer, his eyes wide as he looks from it and deep into Magento's clear, appraising eyes. But they're not Magneto's. They're Mystique's, and John knows Mystique would pull that trigger quicker than Erik ever would.

But with his terror is the hardness, the anger John carries around like a shield. He doesn't dare look to Kevin, to anyone else in the room, not now.

He swallows hard; his lips curl into a dark smile.]

It's Pyro. And that's the last you wanna do. Do you think I'm stupid, coming here with just this crap? You off me now, you don't get Wolverine.