Prologue: Just a Mutant
Bang. A shot rang through the crowded busy streets of Bayville. A man slumps forward, bullet embedded in his brain. A bald man in a wheel chair. All round him, men and women pass by unnoticing. Hurrying onwards with their busy day. 'Just a mutant' they tell themselves, 'he was just a mutant.' They'd seen his face on the television, heard his speeches to the world, some had even been moved by them. Since the creation of the Sentinel and prosecution of mutants had begun, Charles Xavier had been a key figure on the world stage. A strong mutant voice. 'Just a mutant.' They died every day. Some shot, others by riots and burnings, and some still thrown in prison for no reason at all. He was just another mutant. Just another mutant...
There are screams now, people are waking, are seeing, mutants are crying. Boys and girls some old and some young, crowd around the man. A woman, her hair a bright vibrant white, shakes him and shakes him, begging him, pleading for him to wake. His head bobbles back and forth like a bobble head on a dashboard. Eyes are shut, a relaxed almost peaceful look alights his face. Just another mutant, and the world will never be the same.
A few months later
"Professor Charles Xavier was a man of vision, a man who believed that mutants and humans could coexist peacefully in this world. His vision caused him to create a school where he could influence and guide the world's hope for a peaceful future. Mutant children. He trained and educated them in their powers allowing them to reenter the world as well-educated individuals. Charles understood the need for peace and prosperity. He was a leader, a teacher, a father, and a friend. He left his legacy in his children whom he loved and cared for with all his heart. For my part I will do my best to take up his cause and make it my own. This my mutants I promise you."
Excerpt from the Eulogy to Charles Xavier by Magnus Maximoff
In the years later the world darkened and war brewed between the humans and the mutants. Thousands of men marched against the mutant phenomenon. The armies of humans stood well equipped against the collective forces of mutants. Each side trying to create genocide, each side squabbling like a handful of little children, and no peace was reached. The war itself lasted for five long years spreading pestilence and hatred over the planet, until finally, finally it ended with thousands of explosions destroying billions of lives human and mutant alike. No paper or television station could decide a victor. The world was left bankrupt and in debts by the billions. Unable to reach a better plan the world's top scientists, human and mutant, combined their abilities to create ten large space colonies from many of the large asteroids in the Belt. Hurriedly humankind and mutant kind boarded shuttles to head towards their new home. Everyone who could afford to buy a ticket that is...
Our story begins on the blue planet, in a country once known as America, on the worn and tattered streets of New York City. Beneath a scorched sky skyscrapers that once scratched the heavens are toppled and lonesome. Inhabited by a population of less than two hundred, stealing, looting, and death are an everyday occurrence. Fires burn on the streets outside many of the old malls, men and women huddled over them sharing stories of better days and dreams of space. Little children play together barefoot on the cold and icy streets, tossing the ball back and forth, beneath the lines of drying laundry. Biker gangs hang near the abandoned subways, blasting out rivals that come to near. In clothes of slashed grays and browns the dealers peddle their merchandise in long black trucks. Handing out the latest military weapons to the unfortunate teens. Heaps of trash piled as high as a small building provide good hiding place for anything illegal from the New World Federal Investigators, or the NW Feds. Gunfire had long since ceased to bother the city's inhabitants. It was an everyday occurrence. A city of misery and despair, a place of dreams shattered, a city bent on sucking up all hope. In these days an old television set was a person's most cherished possession. Allowing them to keep up with the ever-changing ruling policies of the United Space Colonies, won by fighting mutant gladiators from their respective colonies. The Tournament changed destinations every five years from colony to colony. Until the Tournament desecrated the homes in each of the colonies it was ordained that the battlefield would be Earth. Now the citizens live in fear as fight after fight happens upon their scarred homeland. This is a city of fear and desperation. This city could be any on the planet, in any part of the world, but it was New York, the City of Dreams.
Bang. A shot rang through the crowded busy streets of Bayville. A man slumps forward, bullet embedded in his brain. A bald man in a wheel chair. All round him, men and women pass by unnoticing. Hurrying onwards with their busy day. 'Just a mutant' they tell themselves, 'he was just a mutant.' They'd seen his face on the television, heard his speeches to the world, some had even been moved by them. Since the creation of the Sentinel and prosecution of mutants had begun, Charles Xavier had been a key figure on the world stage. A strong mutant voice. 'Just a mutant.' They died every day. Some shot, others by riots and burnings, and some still thrown in prison for no reason at all. He was just another mutant. Just another mutant...
There are screams now, people are waking, are seeing, mutants are crying. Boys and girls some old and some young, crowd around the man. A woman, her hair a bright vibrant white, shakes him and shakes him, begging him, pleading for him to wake. His head bobbles back and forth like a bobble head on a dashboard. Eyes are shut, a relaxed almost peaceful look alights his face. Just another mutant, and the world will never be the same.
A few months later
"Professor Charles Xavier was a man of vision, a man who believed that mutants and humans could coexist peacefully in this world. His vision caused him to create a school where he could influence and guide the world's hope for a peaceful future. Mutant children. He trained and educated them in their powers allowing them to reenter the world as well-educated individuals. Charles understood the need for peace and prosperity. He was a leader, a teacher, a father, and a friend. He left his legacy in his children whom he loved and cared for with all his heart. For my part I will do my best to take up his cause and make it my own. This my mutants I promise you."
Excerpt from the Eulogy to Charles Xavier by Magnus Maximoff
In the years later the world darkened and war brewed between the humans and the mutants. Thousands of men marched against the mutant phenomenon. The armies of humans stood well equipped against the collective forces of mutants. Each side trying to create genocide, each side squabbling like a handful of little children, and no peace was reached. The war itself lasted for five long years spreading pestilence and hatred over the planet, until finally, finally it ended with thousands of explosions destroying billions of lives human and mutant alike. No paper or television station could decide a victor. The world was left bankrupt and in debts by the billions. Unable to reach a better plan the world's top scientists, human and mutant, combined their abilities to create ten large space colonies from many of the large asteroids in the Belt. Hurriedly humankind and mutant kind boarded shuttles to head towards their new home. Everyone who could afford to buy a ticket that is...
Our story begins on the blue planet, in a country once known as America, on the worn and tattered streets of New York City. Beneath a scorched sky skyscrapers that once scratched the heavens are toppled and lonesome. Inhabited by a population of less than two hundred, stealing, looting, and death are an everyday occurrence. Fires burn on the streets outside many of the old malls, men and women huddled over them sharing stories of better days and dreams of space. Little children play together barefoot on the cold and icy streets, tossing the ball back and forth, beneath the lines of drying laundry. Biker gangs hang near the abandoned subways, blasting out rivals that come to near. In clothes of slashed grays and browns the dealers peddle their merchandise in long black trucks. Handing out the latest military weapons to the unfortunate teens. Heaps of trash piled as high as a small building provide good hiding place for anything illegal from the New World Federal Investigators, or the NW Feds. Gunfire had long since ceased to bother the city's inhabitants. It was an everyday occurrence. A city of misery and despair, a place of dreams shattered, a city bent on sucking up all hope. In these days an old television set was a person's most cherished possession. Allowing them to keep up with the ever-changing ruling policies of the United Space Colonies, won by fighting mutant gladiators from their respective colonies. The Tournament changed destinations every five years from colony to colony. Until the Tournament desecrated the homes in each of the colonies it was ordained that the battlefield would be Earth. Now the citizens live in fear as fight after fight happens upon their scarred homeland. This is a city of fear and desperation. This city could be any on the planet, in any part of the world, but it was New York, the City of Dreams.