Charles Xavier leaned back in his leather chair. He had just finished talking to the Prime Minister and as usual his talk hadn't been about a good subject. It had only been six months since global disaster had been thwarted by Excalibur and now it seemed like they would have to do it again.
He pressed the play button on his laptop, and watched the message again. "Greetings, my name is Bolivar Trask, true prophet of the Messiah. I bring you a message of salvation from my Lord, who truly wishes to have his flock return to him. All you have to do is to turn from your sinful ways, and embrace his salvation. I hold the key to your salvation. Should you place your country under the control of Genoa, the city of the Lord, then you shall be saved. But be warned, the Lord is vengeful. Fail to do this, and you will suffer. You have twelve days to choose: salvation or damnation. In twelve days, the unbelievers will be destroyed, and the believers saved."
This message had been sent to the leaders of every country in the world, and Xavier imagined that in many cases it would be met with the same disbelief and sneers that the government had given it upon viewing it. The PM however, wasn't so sure, and so he had sent it to Xavier, who thought that the whole thing was both melodramatic, and worrying. Could this maniac be speaking the truth? No one had ever heard of Genoa, and the last time that Bolivar Trask had been heard of he'd been a nuclear physicist working for the US government in Malaysia.
Xavier pressed the intercom on his desk. "Jean, were there details of how countries were supposed to join Genoa?"
"Yes sir. In twelve days their leader is to recite a pledge of allegiance to 'the Lord' and to Genoa, apparently."
"Thank you," Xavier turned the intercom off and steepled his fingers. Whilst this could simply be a huge hoax, it was too risky to trust that that was all it was. They needed to get some detailed information. "Jean, tell Hank to prepare the jet. I'm leaving for Peru today."
"Yes sir."
Bolivar Trask and Cain Marko stood in the control room of Genoa. The room was circular and filled with computers and technicians who were constantly monitoring hundreds of different variables. "Everything is proceeding as planned Cain. However, there is one detail I am worried about."
"What's that?" Cain had never heard Trask admit that he was worried about anything. He always seemed so sure of himself.
"Have you heard of Excalibur?"
Cain furrowed his brows in concentration. "Wasn't it a sword, something to do with King Arthur?"
"Very good. It is also a British group of elite operatives dedicated to maintaining world peace. Six months ago they were responsible for the death Erik Lensherr, and I have no doubt that they will do everything in their power to stop me."
"They won't get far!" Cain cracked his knuckles, grinning malevolently.
"I think you'll find that they are quite, persistent. However, I believe I have a way to stop them from ruining everything. When we get to the Temple, I wish you to do a complete overhaul of the security features. I want everything upgraded, double the number of guards and keep a very close watch for anything suspicious."
"Of course, sir."
Trask turned to the technician to his left. "The energy levels are stable? Nothing fluctuating too high, or too low?"
"Nothing sir. All levels are stabilised. We're preparing for our first test."
"Excellent. I will be in the observation gallery, should you require my assistance."
Charles Xavier found the man he was looking for in a seedy bar, in a small town in the uplands of Peru. He grown a lot more facial hair since he had last seen him, and he was looking in far better shape - although to be fair when they had last seen each other he had just lost a lot of blood and was almost unconscious.
As Xavier joined him at his table the man didn't even look at him. Instead he chewed the toothpick in his mouth for several moments, before grunting, "What do you want?"
"And it's nice to see you again Logan." At the sound of his name Logan took a sharp intake of breath. "I need to ask you a favour."
"A favour, hah!" Logan barked out a short laugh. "That almost made my day. Charles Xavier coming all the way here, to ask me for a favour." He shook his head. "You see that man," Logan said suddenly, nodding at a short, nervous looking Columbian sitting across the bar. "He's about to die, because someone else asked me for a favour. Thing is, they paid me for it."
"I'm willing to pay you."
"Ain't enough money in the world you could pay me to do you a favour. I've already helped you enough. I paid my debt to you last year, and now I ain't having anything else to do with you."
"Logan, the whole world's in danger."
"Not my problem."
"How can you sit there and say that? Your life is in danger as well."
Logan merely shrugged.
"Fine, if you change your mind, I need to find out the whereabouts of a Bolivar Trask, within twelve days." Xavier turned to go, but Logan stopped him.
"Wait. I must be going soft, but fine. This is gonna cost you big though."
Pietro Maximoff and Hank McCoy were drinking beer in a small bar in London, absently watching the news. Hank took a swig of beer from his bottle and gestured at the television. "You heard about this guy, Trask I think he's called." Pietro shook his head. Hank lowered his voice. "Apparently he's a religious maniac, who's told the leaders of every country to repent and swear allegiance to him, otherwise they'll be destroyed in twelve days." Hank shook his head in amazement.
"Really?" Pietro laughed.
"Yeah, Jean told me earlier today."
Pietro shook his head. "What's Charlie doing about it?"
Hank grinned as Pietro referred to their boss in such a colloquial manner. "Left for Peru this morning. He's gone to get more information apparently."
"Guess I'll be back in the field shortly then," Pietro finished his beer and ordered another.
"How's your leg holding up, at the moment?" During the battle against Pietro's father, Erik Lensherr, Pietro had been shot in the leg and the wound had never entirely healed - he still walked with a limp.
"It's doing great. Only hurts very occasionally. If I didn't have this damned limp I wouldn't know I'd ever been shot."
"You're lucky that all you came out with was that limp. From what I heard you almost died."
Pietro was about to answer when his mobile rang. He flipped it open, spoke a few words then closed it. "I gotta run Hank. Tonight's my anniversary and Kitty's just finished work. See you tomorrow." Pietro grabbed his coat and hurried out to his car.
Hank glanced up at the screen just as the newscaster said, "World leaders gathered today in Tokyo to discuss the message from the man claiming to be the true prophet of the messiah, Bolivar Trask. Already doomsday cults have sprung up across the globe, claiming that the day of judgement has arrived, and rumours abound that some countries have agreed to swear allegiance to Trask and Genoa. We now go live to Jonathon Green in Tokyo," Hank shook his head and looked away. This whole business gave him a strange feeling and despite his earlier lighthearted comments about it, he couldn't help but feel worried.
Pietro got to his apartment within minutes and he raced upstairs. He changed into his suit in a matter of seconds and quickly found the present he had bought Kitty. Just as he was adjusting his tie he heard her opening the door, and he quickly stuffed the present in a pocket.
"I'll be changed in just a minute Pietro," she called as he heard her go into their bedroom. Pietro looked at his watch, they had plenty of time - their dinner reservations were for 8:30 and it was only 7:35.
Kitty was changed within five minutes and as she emerged from the bedroom Pietro gave her a quick kiss on the lips. She was looking stunningly beautiful, she had let her hair down and it cascaded around her shoulders, she wore a black dress that complimented her figure without being too revealing, and she had on the silver earrings that Pietro had given her for their last anniversary.
"Let's go, reservations are for eight thirty." Pietro led Kitty out to the car.
"Where exactly are we going, you never did tell me?"
"It's a secret," Pietro smiled mysteriously. Ten minutes later he pulled up outside the Vienna. Kitty raised her eyebrows as she saw where they were.
"You got reservations here?"
"Yep," Pietro opened the door for her, gave the keys to a valet.
"At the Vienna? The most exclusive restaurant in London. I heard you have to be on their waiting list for a table, and some people never get off the waiting list their entire lives." A doorman held the door open for them and they went up to the maitre d'.
"Table for Maximoff."
The maitre d' consulted his list. "Very good sir. If you would care to follow me." They were led to a circular table near the corner and they took their seats. "Here is the wine list, a waiter will come to take your order soon. I hope you enjoy your meal."
"So how did you get a table here?" Kitty pressed on.
"Xavier pulled a couple of strings for me," Pietro admitted, with a grin.
After the meal Pietro drove Kitty to Hyde Park. That sat beneath an ancient elm, wrapped in each other's arms, as the moon cast its silvery beams on the lake in front of them. "Do you remember our first date?" Pietro whispered. "We came here on a night like this."
Kitty smiled. "Of course I remember it. It was the first time I realised that there was no one else I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." She snuggled deeper into Pietro's arms. "This night has been so perfect. Thank you, so much." Pietro responded by kissing her deeply on the lips.