What? Oh shit, King of the Worthless is back! Wait, who is he again? Well, I used to write fanfiction. Then I got drafted to fight some kind of interstellar war (we lost, by the way). In the meantime, I was apparently locked out of my account for a good while. Recently, I was able to finally log in. Hmmm.

Anyway, let's get on with this.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution. If I did, you'd all owe me. For serious, yo. Actually, since this doesn't take place during X-Men: Evolution's run, I'm no longer billing this as an Evolution fic. It still sort of is, but it's sort of not. Marvel still owns our asses, though.

Now... X-Men: Evolution ended years ago. I'm sure dozens of authors have already written about the post-Ascension time period. But you know what? To hell with it. I'm doing this anyway.

Breaking away from the norm here. Yes, this one stars the Brotherhood (most of my stuff does), but there's been a change... it's actually (somewhat) serious. This is the beginning of a new series. You can take this as the next step in the Perpetually Screwed series, though it's not exactly a sequel or a spinoff. Perpetually Screwed was an anthology of Brotherhood stories that shared a very loose continuity, so it would be somewhat impossible to make a real sequel to it. So, if you haven't read any of it, don't worry. It's not at all necessary.

But, there's a bonus! I've been trying to finish this thing for a long, long time. So I waited until it was actually finished before publishing. Rather than have you wait weeks between installments... I'm posting all chapters at once. So find a comfortable spot to sit, grab your favorite drink and maybe a tasty snack, and enjoy. Think of it as one of those two-hour premiere movies that some shows have these days. Oh, and excuse the grammar.

Also, excuse the long prologue. It doesn't play a huge role in the story, but it does set up a few things for future installments. If you start getting bored with it (it's rather humorless), skip ahead.

Though Bayville was established sometime in the early-to-mid 1800's, the Xavier Estate hadn't been built until the town saw an economic boom during the 1920's. The mansion and grounds were further expanded by Dr. Brian Xavier, and inherited by his son Charles- who had made some additions of his own.

"I don't see anything," Erik Magnus Lehnsherr noted, standing in the courtyard of the Xavier Estate. Wearing a gray suit with a violet tie, the tall, white-haired Erik carried his coat in his arms. Though youthful in appearance, his face looked like it had seen years of bitterness, always looking like it could turn into a scowl at the slightest provocation- like now, as he looked out onto the empty, green estate, seeing nothing but trees and the same two-story mansion he had visited week after week for the last few years.

"That's the idea," the bald Charles Xavier said, standing next to Erik with a black suit and a tan blazer, his equal in height. Carrying himself with the air of a university scholar, Charles managed to seem professional, despite his more jovial personality. "It's all underground, away from any unwanted eyes."

"A wise choice," Erik commented wryly. "But how will your brother react to these renovations?"

"In all fairness, the estate belongs to me, and I have every right to do this," Charles replied. "The mansion itself won't be changed, not cosmetically at least. I'm only making some additions, which for the most part will be hidden. But still, I'm going to install some additional security here. Ever since our father's passing, he's been resentful that so much was bequeathed to me."

"If one of you was to get the estate, it had to have been someone worthy of it," Erik commented. Cain Marko, Charles' half-brother, had resented what he thought was a preference for Charles from their father- so much that he legally changed his last name from Xavier to Marko, his mother's maiden name. Cain was also a normal human, something Erik took into account when speaking of him, though he never mentioned his bias to Charles.

Of course, Charles and Erik were both human- but a new kind of human: mutants, born with extraordinary powers, for reasons unknown. Both realized that the mutant population- which humanity at large was unaware of- was growing at an alarming rate. Charles intended to have a secret facility beneath his mansion where he could help young, emerging mutants hone their skills- away from eyes that, Erik strongly believed, would never accept them.

"Now now, Magnus, when Cain returns, he is more than welcome to stay here. Anyway, we've been out here long enough. Let me show you what's running so far."

--------------------

2nd Lieutenant Cain Marko, a rugged commando with the United States military, trudged through a cave in Kuwait with two other soldiers. They'd been there for hours, ordered into the cave by Colonel Chaffee to scout out a hunch he had about the cave being used by the Iraqis as a temporary lab to develop new weapons. It had already been speculated that the caves were abandoned, if they had been used at all, so only scouts were sent in. The Iraqi government denied any such weapons, and Chaffee suspected that they were telling the truth. Regardless, it was something his superiors wanted checked.

"I tell you," one of Marko's grunts commented, "I don't really buy this idea of the Iraqis having these weird chemical weapons. There could be an ambush outside and we're sitting here looking for Frankenstein's lab."

"I think Chaffee said something about uranium or something," the other responded. "Should we be going in here alone?"

"Shut up," Marko growled. He was a large man, partially because of well-developed muscle, but also due to some excess flab, particularly around his waist. Marko had little patience for, well, pretty much anything. "This isn't going on record. He's not gonna report anything to Washington if we don't find anything. Now shut up and keep your damn eyes open." They found a fork in the cave system. "Both of you, go that way."

"You're gonna go alone?"

"There's three of us and two tunnels, you moron, one of us has to go alone." Marko started down his tunnel before the others could protest further. He proceeded for several yards, guided by the flashlight mounted on his helmet, until he noticed that there was a red glow coming from the other side of the tunnel. Switching his flashlight off, he continued.

At the end was a small room, reinforced with rough plates of steel, with all sorts of lab equipment thrown about- broken monitors, several strewn wires, everything except actual test tubes. Whoever had been there had left in a hurry. There was only one real item left that wasn't completely trashed; a red gem lay in the corner, crudely cut to about the size of Marko's nose, bright enough to light the room, connected by wires to a small machine (itself turn on its side nearby) that looked like it had been made from a gas-powered generator. The gem produced a low, buzzing sound like a bee caught in a bug zapper and refusing to die. Curious, Marko approached it.

Big mistake.

Upon crossing an infrared line at the room's entrance, small explosives mounted on the ceiling detonated. Chunks of loose rock began to fall on Marko and the entire cave began to rumble. He ran for the exit, but the tunnel had already begun to cave in- he had failed to notice that small charges were mounted on the ceiling of the tunnel, and now detonated. He guessed that his grunts were probably going to be killed as well, wherever they were. All that mattered, though, was that he found a way out.

In desperation, he tried to dig through the rock pile, pushing rocks out of the way, but found it useless. The crude metal plates on the wall began to fall off and more chunks of the loose ceiling fell. Within moments, Marko was buried under weight no man could withstand.

He was lucky, then, that whoever had been using this cave had left the red gem behind.

--------------------

After the tour of Charles's subterranean facilities (which had actually been far less complete than Erik had been led to believe), Erik and Charles retreated to the study to sip bourbon. A favorite haunt of the two, the library contained Charles's extensive collection of books, many of them first-editions sought out by Brian Xavier and later Charles himself. Charles claimed to have read each one at least twice; something Erik didn't doubt at all.

The greatest exhibit in the study, however, was a hidden computer Charles called Cerebro. Designed by Charles and built with the aid of Erik, the computer, though still very crude and full of bugs and glitches, would be capable of expanding Charles's telepathic abilities greatly, allowing him to detect mutants across the world. But for now, it was still unfinished, little more than a computer console at the far end of the room, far from the powerful device it would eventually become.

"The mutant population will grow exponentially, if the current trend keeps up," Charles explained. "The generation before us had very few mutants. Our generation is already showing signs of increased mutant growth. Even without the aid of the new computer, our combined efforts have allowed us to identify twenty-five."

"And the next generation will only grow stronger," Erik said. "Though, it may be a few years before you gather enough students to justify this school. Your plans for this school of yours are admirable, Charles," Erik confessed, "But your students will eventually realize the truth."

"What you believe isn't a truth, it's an estimation, Magnus," Charles countered. "I want to teach them to co-exist with normal humans. When we reveal ourselves to the world, I want it to be as friends, not as monsters."

"That won't be your choice to make, nor mine." Erik took a sip. "You can't honestly expect them to treat us as equals. When they discover us, they will treat us like monsters. They'll fear us, they'll envy us, and they'll hate us. You should use this school to protect young mutants, not to teach them childish dreams."

"Is it childish to want peace, Magnus?"

"No, just to expect it. The wildman you rescued in Canada, you saw how his handlers treated him."

"His name is Logan, Magnus, but to be fair, he was behaving like an animal," Charles conceded, "I think anyone would react the same way to a man brandishing six knives, external or otherwise. The others I've found have so far been able to blend in more easily."

"Only by hiding their powers," Erik noted. "Who would accept young Ororo when she could bring rain any time it suits her mood? Or Sean, if he ever allowed himself to speak at a more comfortable tone?"

"You can't expect them to simply go out and use their powers irresponsibly," Charles said. "They've learned restraint, and that is what will show the world that they can live with us. Any over-muscled bodybuilder could break a normal man in half, but he isn't feared because everyone trusts that this strongman knows better than to do that."

"Yes, but strongmen don't read minds. You know that even I feel a little uneasy in your presence sometimes, Charles."

"But you have no reason to fear me, because you know that I wouldn't do anything to your mind without your consent."

"I do. But will the world at large accept you based on your word alone? You're too intelligent to chase this pipe dream, Charles. Over the last month you've suddenly been pouring your fortune into this. Have you thought this through? I certainly hope that you're not using this project as a distraction from your divorce."

"You know very well that the reality of mutants has been important to me since before I even met Gabrielle," Charles snapped. "Now, I have the freedom, the resources, and the drive to set this plan into motion. I feel the divorce may have been a blessing in disguise. I couldn't have been nearly as devoted to this dream if I had been tied down with a family. Not that having children was ever a hindrance to you."

The room was silent. For a moment, Erik just stared at the floor, not sure how to react to Charles's sudden outburst of sarcasm.

"I'm sorry," Charles said finally. "I didn't-"

"No, I shouldn't have brought it up," Erik said dryly. He stood up. "It's late. Maybe we've both had too much to drink. I should be going anyway." Erik took his coat and hat from the rack near the door. "I'll stop by sometime during the week to give you a hand with the computer."

"Yes, thank you, Magnus," Charles said somberly as Erik closed the door behind him. He leaned forward, refilled his glass, and leaned back in his chair, exhaling.

--------------------

Erik returned to his own home in New York, not far from Bayville, located in a wooded area just outside the city. Though not as large as Charles's mansion, Erik's own home, lined with its own metal fence, was still a mark of his wealth. Erik pulled his black luxury car into the driveway, the metal gates opening by themselves. Leaving the car at the front steps, Erik walked in through the front door.

"Welcome home, Mr. Maximoff," the housemaid Emily greeted him by his assumed alias. An older, portly woman with graying blond hair, Emily had been hired primarily to watch after Erik's children, a task he had little patience for. "The twins are both asleep."

"Good," Erik said coldly. "I'll be in my office."

"Mr. Maximoff, I don't mean to trouble you, but... some strange things have been happening in the nursery. Sometimes... they start moving on their own... one of the windows cracked, and the door handle just... well, it just fell apart today." Emily held up the broken door knob pieces. "I can't explain it."

Erik looked down at the pieces in her hands. "Tell me, were either of the children awake when you saw these things happen?"

"No... well, not really, no. Wanda... she was fidgeting a bit, though. Like she was having a nightmare." Curious, Erik walked down the corridor. Moments later, Erik and Emily were in the nursery, where Erik's twin children, Pietro and Wanda, both three years old, were sound asleep. Pietro was dressed in green and had brown hair, while the raven-haired Wanda was dressed in red. Erik looked at the cracked window, and noticed that the bars on Wanda's crib were slightly warped- a difficult feat, as wood usually cracked.

Without hesitation, Erik picked his daughter up, holding her out. Immediately awakened, Wanda began to cry.

"Oh, now what did you go and do that for?" Emily lamented, but soon realized what Erik had wanted- the ceiling fan slowly began to spin on its own. As Emily stepped back, she saw a crack appear in the ceiling. The drawers to the children's dressers all began to open.

Bewildered, Emily ran for the door, but it closed before she could reach it- quickly, and deliberately. Emily put her hand through the hole where the doorknob used to go, but the door refused to move. Erik turned to her and placed Wanda in Emily's arms.

"Calm her down. It should stop then." Emily hesitated for a moment, but soon began to rock Wanda in her arms nervously, making soft shushing noises until Wanda settled down. The room seemed to return back to its normal, motionless state. Amazingly, young Pietro had slept through the whole thing.

"But... I don't understand..."

"Of course not," Erik scoffed. "Don't bother yourself over this. Just make sure Wanda is sleeping well." Erik waved his hand towards the door, but it didn't move. His eyes widened for a moment, and he tried again, a small amount of alarm rushing into him. Then, he remembered the doorknob was missing. Instead, he focused on the metal hinges, and the door swung open. Erik sighed in relief and exited; Emily was too busy with Wanda to have noticed anything. "I'll be in my office."

Upstairs, Magneto entered his stately office, modeled with Victorian furniture, though he insisted that everything have metal plating on it somewhere. The chairs had metal plates at the bottom of their legs, as did his desk. Erik waved his hands and the metal rings in the drapes slid together, closing them and blocking the tall window. Erik walked over to a globe next to his desk, and with a flick of his fingers the globe split in half, revealing a hollow space where Erik hid a red-and-violet helmet in a Grecian design. He beckoned, and the helmet flew into his hands.

Upon placing it on his head, he was Magneto, master of magnetism, a man with noble ideas for the future of mutantkind. A panel on his desk opened to reveal a small, spherical device, just as Magneto pulled a violet cape over his shoulder, concealing himself beneath it, except for his masked head. Three lights on the device flashed in unison and a holographic image appeared.

It was Mystique, an associate of Magneto, a beautiful but tough woman with blue skin and red hair, dressed in a revealing white outfit adorned with miniature golden skulls. Much like Erik himself, she seemed to bear several years on her face, despite her apparent youth.

"Magneto," she regarded him cautiously.

"Mystique, you haven't reported to me in a week. What are you doing?" Magneto commanded.

"The adoption papers are complete. We ran into a few difficulties, but I sorted them out. I've managed to gain legal custody of the girl," Mystique reported with a tinge of sadness she was clearly trying to hide from Magneto.

"You will be too busy to care for a child," Magneto told her. "Have Irene take care of her. Has she had any other visions?"

"None relevant to our cause," Mystique informed him. "No sign yet of what powers Wyngarde's boy will have, or any further visions on the Summers family... but there was one..." Mystique paused as if regretting that she had mentioned it.

"Tell me," Magneto demanded. Mystique took a breath, and continued.

"Irene saw a boy... she said the vision was cloudy, and she couldn't make out anything... except that the boy was related to Xavier..." Mystique hesitated.

"And?"

"...and he was with a girl. The two arrive at Xavier's mansion and... kill you both."

"Kill us?" Magneto asked with only a slight hint of alarm. "The girl. Who was she?"

"Irene couldn't tell. She had black hair, that's all she saw. Apparently, this happens too far into the future to see clearly. Irene has admitted that the farther into the future her visions take her, the less likely they are to happen."

"I agree, nothing to fret about," Magneto said. "Once everything is secure there, I want you to go to Paris. There's a lead there I'd like you to investigate. I'll contact you soon enough."

"Yes, sir." Mystique disappeared. Magneto took a seat at his desk, realizing who the girl in Irene's vision was. But he would deal with that when the time came; for now, there were other things that demanded his attention.

--------------------

Several days later, Erik again drove to Xavier's mansion in Bayville, only to find things out of place: the front gate had been torn open, the angel fountain in the courtyard had been smashed, and something had completely destroyed the front doors. Erik rushed into the house to see what had happened, finding a greater path of destruction inside. It wasn't a thorough ransacking of the house; most of the furniture was intact, except that closest to the stairs, which were also dented and banged. Something large had plowed through, determined to reach a specific goal. Erik raced up the stairs.

"Charles? Charles!"

He heard a crash to his left. Rushing to through the hall, Erik jumped over a fallen bookcase, which had apparently been thrown out of a large hole in the wall. Erik sensed something large and metal down the hall, making sudden movements. Instinctively, he raised his hand and used his control over magnetism to lift whatever the object was. It was fairly heavy, and struggling against his control.

Erik opened the door to Charles's office and finally saw what he was holding; a mammoth of a man, easily three times the size of a normal human, wearing rough red armor with a domed helmet. There was no doubt that this was a mutant, but not one Erik had ever seen before. Charles was battered, lying on his own smashed desk, wincing his eyes and trying to keep awake, despite his obvious agony.

"Charles, are you-"

"Helmet... remove his helmet..." Charles managed to say. All four latches across the behemoth's neck unsnapped and the helmet flew off. Charles weakly held a hand to his forehead and concentrated. It was only once his helmet had been removed that Erik finally recognized him; Cain Marko, Charles's bitter half-brother, somehow transformed into a human Juggernaut.

"Charles! What are you doing to me?!" the Juggernaut shouted. His shout turned into an incoherent scream as he forced his eyes closed and tried desperately to grab his head, but remained trapped in Magneto's hold. After a few intense moments, the Juggernaut went limp. Erik casually tossed the body aside with a loud thud and rushed to Charles.

"Charles, are you hurt?"

"I... Magnus... call an ambulance..."

"I'll take you to the hospital myself."

"No... don't move me..." Erik looked down at Charles's body, beaten and twisted, his back lying on top of the broken desk. Charles' arms shifted and his head was shaking, but his legs didn't move. Charles looked solemnly at Erik, already realizing the extent of his injury.

"Charles..."

"Just help me stay awake... until they arrive, Magnus. Help me... stay awake."

--------------------

After several months, Charles Xavier returned to his mansion, discharged from the hospital and ready to return to his work. Charles's goal of opening a school wasn't deterred in the least. If anything, it seemed he was even more motivated by his permanent injury.

Charles, now bound to a wheelchair, was carted into the study by Ororo Munroe, a teenaged African girl with white hair and an almost regal grace. She had recently left Kenya, where she had been revered as a goddess- though a local Hungan was happy to take her place when she was recruited by Xavier.

Charles was still adjusting to the change in his daily routine, and wore a silk robe instead of his usual suit. His face was covered by blond whiskers, not by choice but by neglect. Erik was already waiting in the study, looking at his friend with both respect and pity.

"Thank you, Ororo," Charles said.

"I'll be in the greenhouse if you need me, Professor," Ororo replied and left the room. Ororo, along with two others, had already been living in Charles's mansion when Juggernaut attacked. None of them had been home that day. Charles thought this fortunate: had any of them tried to stop the Juggernaut, they might have suffered worse than he had. As Cain Marko had gone AWOL during a mission, the military cooperated with Xavier in creating a prison that would contain him, located in North Carolina.

"It's been a long time," Erik told Charles as the two stared into the fire. "I'm still curious to know just how your brother acquired his abilities."

"I'm not so sure myself," Charles admitted. "I probed his mind when they first suspended him at the new prison in Stokes County. I don't think he really knows, either. He was buried alive with a red jewel of some kind, and somehow, it gave him superhuman strength. I did some tests, which were quite difficult, and the best theory I've come up with is that he had the X gene, like I do, but somehow it remained dormant."

"Interesting," Erik said, hiding the fact that he knew exactly what that red jewel was- and had even used it on himself earlier in his life. "Your brother is a model of mutant restraint, isn't he?"

"He is a special case," Charles said. "He was suddenly given power, and used it irresponsibly, an example I'd like to avoid. I'll admit, it was difficult keeping the local media away from him, and even more difficult finding a way to keep him contained. I only wish there had been another way."

"Mutants can't stay hidden much longer, Charles," Erik said. "I think it's time we reveal ourselves."

"Now? There's too few of us to make a difference."

"We should take advantage of the situation. We can't just wait until there are so many mutants the secrecy becomes useless."

"I agree, Magnus, but now is not the time. We'll have to wait until the next generation, I'm afraid, otherwise mutants will be such a minority that they may not warrant anything but paranoia. With proper education, the public will more readily accept us," Charles theorized.

"Assuming they will accept us at all."

--------------------

Walking down the street, young Hank McCoy held his letter jacket tightly around himself. He had caused his school's team to lose the football championship after he began to feel sick. Hank explained this to the coach and the team, but they still treated him as if he had lost the game on purpose.

Hank needed some fresh air; for some reason, he suddenly felt more comfortable outdoors. He walked through a city park in the late evening, carrying with him a copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet. When he was Bayville High's star player, nobody made fun of him for his taste in literature; now, he was suddenly a "girly nerd."

Hank opened the book with great ease, having somehow acquired the ability to turn to exact pages without the need of a bookmark. He no longer had to lick his thumb to turn a page; he was able to grip it just fine.

"It's a good play," Professor Charles Xavier said to him, rolling towards him in a motorized wheelchair, now dressed in a casual suit. The two large wheels were adorned with silver X's. "It's not often that you find a star football player reading Shakespeare of his own will."

"No, but I guess I'm just a little different," Hank replied sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, I'm Professor Charles Xavier," Xavier said to him. "I teach at the University."

"Hank McCoy," Hank said, shaking Xavier's hand. "University of Bayville, I presume? That's quite a school. I'd considered applying there."

"I'll be honest with you, Hank, I came here to see you." Hank's bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. "I know how strange that may sound but, I know that you are... different from other young men."

"Different?" Hank asked, curious but a little creeped. "I... I don't think I'm anything special..."

"Oh, but you are, Hank. You've probably noticed that you've grown stronger in your teenage years. Your hands and feet are a little larger than average, and you have no difficulty with dexterity."

"I... what? That's..." Hank was a little insulted that his large hands had been pointed out. "I don't know what you're..."

"Hank, I'm like you. I am also gifted with enhanced abilities, except in my case, they manifested in the form of mental abilities. We're mutants, born with extraordinary gifts, and we're becoming more common these days. There are mutants now with enhanced senses, with enhanced strength... even as far as control over the weather."

"I'm sorry," Hank laughed, "This is too much. I feel like I've wandered into a comic book."

"I understand that it is difficult to believe," Xavier said, directly into Hank's mind, eliciting a slight gasp. "But trust me, Hank, you are special."

"I... well, maybe you're right, maybe I have some genetic, uh, differences," Hank cautiously said. "But you're not just here to tell me that, are you?"

"No," Xavier admitted. "I'm opening a school here in Bayville for mutants. A place where they can learn to control their abilities, away from potential prejudice from those who might not understand, so that one day, we can reveal ourselves to the world at large, and coexist with them. I'd like you to join us."

"Oh, I'm afraid I'm just about done with school," Hank said. "But hearing this... so many questions. Why do we have these abilities? What's causing people like us to emerge?"

"Natural evolution," said another voice. Hank and Charles turned to see the armor-clad, masked figure of Magneto descend from the sky, violet cape billowing behind him. Wearing a black jumpsuit with red armor and his red-and-violet helmet, Magneto looked more like a conqueror than anything else. As if to flex his muscle and impress Hank, Magneto waved his hand and bent a nearby light post at a ninety degree angle, landing gently on it and using it almost as a pedestal. The spark inside the post died out, leaving Magneto in shadow.

"Magnus?" Xavier asked.

"I am Magneto," he said more to Hank than to Charles. "And I have control over all forms of magnetism. What Charles is offering is a nice idea, but we live in a much different world. Your so-called friends turned on you. Now your differences set you apart, and not just your mutant genes. Someone as bright as you must already understand that most people see anything different as freakish."

"This is true," Hank admitted. "Society isn't very fond of deviation."

"No, but one day, regular humans will see that we are not to be feared," Charles interjected.

"What mankind fears, he tramples," Magneto said bitterly. "I know from experience. We are the next step in human evolution. By definition, we are the beginnings of a superior race. Mankind will fear and hate you. You are a beautiful creature, and the rightful inheritor of this planet. Your only chance for survival is to strike at them, before they strike at you, and I assure you, they will."

"Hank, listen to me," Xavier urged, "It does not have to be a case of 'us versus them.' From australopithecus to homo habilis, from homo erectus to neanderthal and then to homo sapiens, we evolve and do not attack the heralds of our evolution. We can all live together, humans and mutants!"

"Don't be so foolish as to think that they won't persecute us once they learn more of our existence," Magneto told the confused Hank. "It will come down to 'us versus them.' It's human nature. It's inevitable. All that's left is for you to decide which side you will be on."

"So it's between war and peace, is it?" Hank asked, looking back and forth between Magneto and Xavier. "I'm sorry, this is all fascinating, but it's all so sudden, I'm not sure I'm ready for all of this. I appreciate the offer, both of them, but I'm not really having any problems with my abilities. I just have a few social issues, that's all. Forgive me for not signing any contracts just yet, but I'd like to educate myself a little further before choosing any particular side."

"If that is your decision, I will respect it," Professor Xavier told him.

"As will I," Magneto added, not about to be outdone. "However, when you finally accept what you are, my offer will remain on the table."

"As will mine, Hank. Thank you for your time."

"Uh, my pleasure... gentlemen..." As Professor Xavier rolled away, Hank quietly shut his book and left at a brisk pace. Once Hank had left, Xavier turned to Magneto, who descended from his lamp post pedestal and landed next to the wheelchair-bound professor. Looking at him, Xavier felt that the Erik he knew was gone; or rather, the Erik he knew was a facade. Erik had never been entirely open about his past, but Xavier knew that it brought him great bitterness, and with it, cynicism. But he hadn't expected this.

"I see that you've finally given in to extremism... Magneto," Charles lamented. "I knew you leaned closer to that end than I did, but do you honestly want a war between humans and mutants? It's irrational. It's... it's..."

"Insane? I don't want a war, Charles. I'll admit, under ideal circumstances, I would follow your vision, but you live in ideals, Charles. I live in the real world, and this war is inevitable. I am taking steps to ensure our victory."

"And I am taking steps to ensure that this war doesn't happen," Charles told him.

"I've seen your facilities, Charles. If not an army, what are you going to build?" Momentarily stunned, Charles didn't have time to reply before Magneto ascended to the sky and disappeared. Professor Xavier sighed and went along his way.

--------------------

"I have what I need," Magneto said to the holographic Mystique in his office. "Xavier shared his designs with me. Even without telepathic powers, it's only a matter of time before I can make my own mutant detector."

"That will certainly cut down on our travel expenses," Mystique said. "I haven't been able to find this mutant in Paris. I'm not so sure he's even alive anymore."

"It's possible, but I want you to check thoroughly before we abandon him."

"Yes, sir."

"I know that you have suffered much in my service, Mystique," Magneto said, adopting a slightly more sympathetic tone, though remaining very much cold and authoritative. "I assure you, once the war is over and I take my place as ruler of homo superior, you will be granted high status in the new order."

"Yes... thank you, sir," Mystique said tersely, barely hiding how insulted she was by his patronizing offer. Magneto shut off the hologram projector and left his office, leaving his cape and helmet behind.

As soon as he was out in the hallway, Wanda bumped into him. The little three-year-old girl fell on her bottom and looked up at her father.

"Wanda? What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I want water," Wanda said, in her slightly slurred baby voice.

"Where is Emily?"

"She's not saying," Wanda told him. Puzzled, Erik picked up the baby girl into his arms and walked over to the nursery. Emily the housekeeper sat in a corner of the room, huddled and shaking, staring at Wanda's crib with wide eyes. The crib had somehow rearranged itself into some kind of abstract sculpture, with bars pointing in multiple directions, as if someone had tried to put it back together without having the slightest clue as to what the end result was supposed to look like. Pietro sat up in his own normal crib, not particularly concerned with what was going on around him.

"What happened?" Erik asked.

"Her crib... it just came apart, and... and..." Magneto waved his hand, and the crib- lined with metal pieces here and there, like all furniture in his house- rearranged itself back into its normal configuration. He sat Wanda down inside. "What? How... how...?!"

"Get her a glass of water. Make sure she remains comfortable."

"What is... how?!"

"Nevermind. Get her a glass of water." Emily remained frozen. "NOW!" Erik almost didn't register Emily running out of the nursery; he could swear she was a mutant, running at the speed she did. It wasn't the first time Emily had witnessed Magneto's power; he had almost forgotten, though, that he had an associate of his alter Emily's memory every time she did. He'd just have to call him over again. "You're becoming quite the little troublemaker," Erik said to Wanda, almost playfully. "Did you change your crib?"

"No," Wanda said, clearly not believing she was responsible. "I wake up and it was like that."

"I believe you," Erik said.

"I had a nightmare," Wanda confessed sheepishly. "A monster tried to eat me."

"It's alright," Erik told her with a smile. "Nightmares aren't real. You're safe."

"I'm thirsty," Wanda reminded him.

"Me too," Pietro added.

"You always copy me!" Wanda complained.

"Nuh-uh!!" The two erupted into a chain of "nuh-uh" and "uh-huh" as well as other words Erik couldn't make out. He tried to be patient with them, but that was never his strongest trait.

"Enough! Quiet, both of you!" Erik yelled. The two immediately fell silent, and then Erik had done it: they started crying. "Shh! Shh! I didn't... arrgh. Where is that woman?!"

"Oh, what happened now?" Emily asked nervously, entering with a glass of water.

"I yelled at them," Magneto said. "They wouldn't stop fighting."

"Er.. okay... well..." Emily was still shaken from having witnessed both Wanda and Erik's powers. She set down the glass of water, but it shattered, and the glass shards began to float and spin in a miniature whirlwind. The crack in the ceiling grew larger, and the windows exploded outward. The drawers opened again, and this time, all of the childrens clothes and toys began to float around, thrown about wildly. Emily looked at Erik, who clearly expected her to calm them down. Emily went to Wanda first, taking the young girl into her arms and rocking her. She then took Pietro, holding each of them in one arm against her chest. "It's okay, your father didn't mean it. He's sorry. Isn't that right, Mr. Maximoff?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," Erik said half-heartedly. The children calmed down. The room slowly returned to normal. Erik left Emily to deal with the children, storming out of the room.

He was beginning to think Wanda might be a problem.

--------------------

Erik's gloved hands firmly gripped the steering wheel of his black car. He looked in the rearview mirror; in the backseat sat his twin children Pietro and Wanda, now age seven. Both had grown into cute children; Pietro, whose hair had turned silver like his father's, wore a green hooded sweatshirt, and Wanda, with her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, wore a red sweater. It seemed that these colors had stuck.

Both were usually rambunctious, either playing or arguing, but rarely going without making trouble. Tonight, however, they were quiet. The only sound came from the windshield wipers, clearing out some of the light rain of the evening.

Wanda's powers had manifested early, but for a few years, they seemed to only flare up on rare occasions. But in the last few months, they had suddenly grown stronger. Too strong, Erik felt.

"Where are we going?" Pietro asked, finally. His son's curiosity bothered Erik.

"I told you," Erik repeated. "We're just going for a ride."

"Are we going anywhere special?" Wanda asked.

"Yes," Erik said to her. "We're going to look at a new house."

"Are we moving?" Pietro asked, half surprised, half excited. "We're moving to a new house?"

"You'll both have a new home soon," Erik said to them. They looked at each other in excitement, too innocent to suspect any hidden meaning in their father's words.

"Will it be as big as our old house?" Pietro asked. "Or bigger? Will it have more floors? Can I have two rooms this time?"

"We're here," Erik said, stopping the car. The kids looked out the window; across the street stood the largest house they'd ever seen- it looked more like a church than a house. The cathedral-like structure was both imposing and awe-inspiring. The kids unfastened their seatbelts and the car doors opened on their own. Knowing family protocol, the kids waited for Erik to step out first; afterwards, they both went outside and stood with him.

"This is our new house?" Wanda asked her father. He didn't answer, nor did he look at her. Erik just stood there, letting the rain splash against him. Wanda looked up at the new house. Curiously, the lights were already on. Even stranger, two men in yellow jackets came out from the front door.

"Who are they?" Pietro asked. Erik didn't answer.

"Mr. Maximoff," one of the men said, addressing Erik. "Is this her?" Erik nodded.

"W-what do they want with me?" Wanda asked, troubled that she had been singled out. The two men approached her, one standing to either side. "What are you doing?"

"This is your new home, Wanda," Erik said, looking down at his daughter. "I didn't want to do this, but you've left me no choice."

"...Father?" Wanda whispered. The men seized her. Despite her small size, she gave them a fight. If her struggling wasn't enough, the rain appeared to be changing direction. Small holes began to appear in the road.

"Don't let her use her hands," Erik said to the men. The men forced Wanda's arms around her. Despite her struggle, her arms were pinned against her, and she found moving her hands difficult. Completely helpless, Wanda could only hope that she could kick free, but it was no use. The men were already carrying her away.

Pietro, horrified, looked up at his father. Erik held out his hand to stop him before he could try anything.

"This is her fate, not yours," Erik told his son. Pietro looked at his sister, whose face was wet both with rain and tears. Their eyes locked for a moment. Pietro knew he had to do something. He wanted to push both of the men down and help his twin sister... but too afraid to disobey his father, Pietro did nothing. He only put his hands in his pockets and looked down, breaking away from Wanda's eyes.

"Father!" Wanda cried, now turning her attention to Erik. Erik stared right at her, his face showing no sign of emotion, no hint of sympathy for his own daughter. The shadows falling on his face created the image of a different man. It wasn't Erik Lehnsherr who had given Wanda away. It was Magneto.

"Father!" Wanda screamed again, trying in vain to break free from the powerful men. She was carried inside, and the door was closed behind her.

Outside, Magneto waved his hand, and the doors to the car opened. Pietro knew that it was time to go. They climbed in. Pietro kept his focus on the floor, trying his best to ignore his sister's cries through the window of the asylum. Magneto made no such gesture, keeping his gaze straight ahead. The black car rounded a corner and soon, Wanda and the asylum were just memories.

For several minutes, Pietro remained silent. He tried to fight back the tears that were escaping from his eyes and tried to keep his whimpers in the back of his throat.

"I didn't have a choice, Pietro," Magneto said in his stoic, commanding voice, with only the barest hint of sympathy. "She was too powerful, and too out of control. She was a threat to both of us."

"But..."

"It had to be this way." Magneto said nothing else for the duration of the drive. Pietro wondered if maybe his father was wrong, and there was another option. He also wondered if maybe he was going to be sent away as well.

Pietro's fears were not unfounded; less than a month later, he was also given away to a foster home in New York. With no children to distract him, Magneto was free to develop his plan for the future of the mutant race.

--------------------

Magneto's vision finally began to focus. His head was throbbing. His entire body ached. What had happened? He saw the blue sky above him, with white stars shooting down. What was he seeing?

Then he realized he was still in Mexico. He had come to challenge Apocalypse, and lost his life. But... how?

He remembered feeling an intense pain in his chest that spread outward, as if burning him alive- then a white flash, and nothing. Now, he was awake, alive, but disoriented and confused.

After a moment, images came to him. The tomb beneath the Sphinx, Apocalypse standing over him. Mystique was there, in a trance, and then Charles and Storm. They waited until Apocalypse commanded them to awaken and defend his pyramids. Magneto had returned to Mexico to destroy a group of Sentinels, and then he himself was attacked by the X-Men... and then...

Magneto's concentration returned, and he realized that his children, Pietro and Wanda, were kneeling next to him. They had come to fight him, aware that he was not himself. Now that he was awake, they were at his side, concerned for his well-being. Together, Wanda and Pietro helped their tired father to his feet. Despite everything he had done, they had still come for him.

'What a monster I've been,' was all Magneto could think as they led him to a waiting helicopter.

--------------------

Nearly a decade after Magneto had left Wanda and Pietro behind, Nick Fury stood alone in front of the ruling council of SHIELD, a group of five people with the highest security clearances. They sat side-by-side on a tall marble podium, the golden SHIELD emblem on the wall behind them. A spotlight was cast on Colonel Fury, and dim backlights projected behind the council revealed only faint details; silhouettes, really. Fury wasn't sure why they did this. He knew all of their names, and all of their faces. He imagined that perhaps they just loved to be theatrical. Despite their imposing appearance, Fury was not the least bit disturbed by them.

All except for the one in the center. The Director of SHIELD, the only man who could make Fury quiver. The Director himself was a very old man, and though his features weren't plainly visible in the shadow cast on his face, certain details could be made out- his hair was thin, but swept back. His face slightly drooping in his old age, but still friendly. Large glasses covered his eyes, and a thick moustache cover his upper lip. By all appearances, he was nothing more than an old bureaucrat, probably a likeable grandfather outside of SHIELD walls. But something about him always made Fury nervous. Maybe it was that very likeability. He was rarely irritable. He liked to tell tall tales with child-like enthusiasm, and tended to get excited by reports that included robots, superhumans, or unexplained phenomena. How could someone like that have risen to the highest rank? Fury long suspected that this was mostly a facade, an attempt by the Director to conceal his true skill and cunning.

"Face front," the Director ordered. Fury stepped forward slightly, hands at his side. He could see the shadow of the Director leafing through the physical report Fury had submitted. "Colonel Fury, as I understand it, Apocalypse has been stopped. Please go over the details for the rest of the council."

"Yes, sir," Fury began. "Earlier this year, a mutant named Mesmero began to gather items that somehow unlocked three doors, behind which was En Sabah Nur, who also called himself Apocalypse. His mutant powers allowed him to stay alive for three thousand years, though he was severely weakened until Mesmero arrived, bringing with him the X-Man Rogue. The full details are unknown to SHIELD, but they're irrelevant right now."

"I see," the Director replied, disappointed. "Then let's try to be prudent. Continue."

"The fact of that matter is, Apocalypse was loose. Using technology that our scientists are still trying to understand, he arrived in the Yucatan in Mexico. He destroyed a Mayan pyramid and revealed a new pyramid made from his own technology, likely hidden there thousands of years ago. He then proceeded to create a giant energy dome around the pyramid that repelled any force thrown at it. It was next to impossible to penetrate."

"An impenetrable force field!" the Director declared, slightly excited. "Continue."

"He went on to raise two more domes," Fury explained. "One in Xi'an, China. The other in Cairo, Egypt. Once he was ready, he raised the Sphinx to reveal a hidden base beneath it. After apparently 'merging' with his own technology..."

"An immortal mutant man, fused with technology beyond human comprehension!" the Director exclaimed. "Continue."

"...He set out to complete his plan," Fury continued. "As far as we've been able to tell, his plan was to use a device called the Eye of Ages to create an energy field, powered by the three pyramids and the Sphinx, that would activated the latent X-genes in the world's population. Most humans carrying the gene would've experienced sudden mutation. Those that didn't have it would've been guaranteed death."

"And how was he stopped?" the Director asked.

"Our original plan was, as you ordered," Fury said with a hint of contempt, "To send a fleet of Sentinels to fight Apocalypse. Their enhanced weaponry managed to destroy the domes, but the pyramids remained, and Apocalypse and his horsemen trashed the robots. With no other options, I turned to the X-Men for help."

"Which, under normal circumstances, we would like you to avoid," said one of the other council members, a woman with a raspy voice.

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have had to ask," Fury defended. "But they gathered their forces, brought in a few friends, and made four teams. Wolverine and I devised the strategy. Three teams would fight the horsemen and attempt to destroy one of the three pyramids, and a fourth team would infiltrate the Sphinx and try to bring down Apocalypse. The fourth team was mostly needed to hold off the remaining horseman, while Rogue entered Apocalypse's chamber. Using power she borrowed from Dorian Leech, she was able to cut off Apocalypse's power, thereby stopping his energy field."

"As excited as I am by this story, I have to say the ending is a bit disappointing," the Director admitted. "But excitement isn't the priority, and I am pleased that the plot was foiled. But what happened to Apocalypse?"

"He was sealed inside the Eye of Ages," Fury said, "According to Wolverine. Afterwards, he sabotaged the controls on a vessel containing the trapped Apocalypse, and it disappeared. We have no way of knowing where Apocalypse may have gone, but... well, it's in the report. And I have trouble buying it."

"...But he could be any place... or any time!" the Director shouted. "He could be trapped in prehistoric times, or whisked away to a future world none of us could imagine! Ahem. But, the point is, he has been stopped. You may have trouble believing the vessel could leave our time, but I do not. When you've attained my level of security and you've seen everything I've seen, trust me, you'll be a true believer, too!" The Director turned another page. His tone became a little more solemn. "Now... about the outcome."

"The we were able to avoid a complete catastrophe," Fury explained to the council, "There were losses. The Eye of Ages was active long enough to affect several millions of people around the world. Many of them saw their mutations emerge, a number we can't realistically estimate. Several were touched by the energy field, but not long enough to either mutate or die. They were they luckiest."

"And the casualties?"

"...Six million, estimated," Fury replied. "But if Apocalypse hadn't been stopped, that number would've been much higher."

"Agreed," the Director stated. "Though you breached SHIELD protocol by asking outsiders for help without orders, your actions have saved countless lives. In light of the emergence of millions of new mutants worldwide, and public knowledge about mutants, we feel it would be best to create a Department of Mutant Affairs within SHIELD. We are placing it under your supervision, Colonel Fury, and staffing it will be your responsibility."

"I can think of a few people," Fury smirked.

"Good. As for the Sentinels, they proved quite useful to us, but we won't be needing any more. In return for his services, we will be releasing Dr. Trask, though we will continue to monitor him until we feel he is no longer a threat. Naturally, he won't be informed that he will be monitored, nor will he be told the conditions of his probation, nor informed of the penalty for any violations. 'Nuff said."

"Anything else?" Fury asked.

"Yes," the Director stated. "There was a group of mutants that, as we understand it, had been asked by one of the X-Men to join them as part of the group of allies you commissioned, but refused the request. Later they changed their minds and found their own means to arrive in Mexico to face one of Apocalypse's horsemen. Colonel, we want you to keep an eye on this group. They have shown tremendous initiative and skill, and I feel they may be a great asset to us one day."

"Yes, sir," Fury responded, keeping to himself his misgivings about the group. Particularly their minimal contribution to the final battle.

"The council is satisfied that you have given an accurate report," the Director said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you to draw up a short list of those people you think would be good candidates for the Mutant Affairs department. Get back to us as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," Colonel Fury saluted. He turned and left the spotlight, walking towards a door flanked by two armed guards.

"Oh, and Colonel Fury?" the Director called.

"Yes?" Fury asked, turning back around to face the Director.

"Excelsior!"

End prologue. If you can guess who the Director is supposed to be... you got no points. It's too easy.

Some parts of the prologue were inspired by the first issue of the short-lived Evo comic. In fact, some lines in the Hank scene are lifted from it, almost word for word; this is because, although the Evo comic went in a different direction than the show (sometimes it felt like it was written by people who had the job forced on them and never actually watched an episode of the series), I felt the confrontation between Magneto and Xavier in the first issue was well done, if brief.

Now, we begin chapter 1... which takes place shortly after the end of season four.