It wasn’t that Magnus had underestimated his opponent this time, it was just that the effort of wielding the earth’s gravitational field, even such a small part of it, had taken far more out of him than he ought to have allowed. He’d wanted to see the job finished, if he just could have held Rankin under a moment longer- well, no matter, wishing he’d done differently wouldn’t change the situation nor would it help the gashes in his stomach from those bone claws. Sharp, certainly, annoying, yes, but not deadly. Magneto felt hot blood welling up and spilling down his stomach but, beyond a small groan of surprise when Calvin made contact, he ignored the wound and focused on the enemy.
Raising both of his hands and, not even bothering with a forcefield (what was the point when this fool could banish it with a snap of his fingers), he gathered up energy until the air around him was crackling as he sent pulse after pulse of electromagnetic bursts at Calvin, less precise and controlled now as he was fueled by irritation. The Master of Magnetism would not be brought down by this insolent whelp on his own home turf. Not after what S.H.I.E.L.D. had come in and taken from him. He would not have his pride bruised any further, not this night.