I am not a descendant of Stan Lee, nor am I a British schoolmarm.

Here is the latest chapter of A Third Path. I would like to thank everyone over on my patty on-page who took part in the political discussion, it was a major help. I think I got that section pretty well done but as always feel free to tell me what you think.

This has now been beta-read now by a newcomer, a patron of mine by the name of MB. My original small mistake guy still hasn't communicated with me at all, which is not a good sign, nor have my other long term editors. However, Grammarly and MB have hopefully helped to make this chapter better than it was when I originally posted it so hopefully that will be enough.


ATP 40: Building Bridges, Endings, Beginnings and Downtime

Whoever said that peace was easier than war never worked in a hospital, Hela thought to herself as she and Piotr made their way into the medical center of Fortress Mars. It was a large area and had been enlarged recently for the massive influx of wounded that they had taken in after what was called being called the Eurasian War. Apparently, this was because the name Winter War had already been used and Winter War Part Two just didn't scan.

Regardless, literally the day after her Seidr Man had finished off the terrorist named Mr. Sinister, Harry had started to work on the wounded from the various fronts being shipped back from the front, taking over the most horribly wounded of them. And in the two weeks since, he hadn't come out of the hospital even once. Not to drink, not to eat, not to sleep. I know that in many ways he is akin to a God such as myself, but even so, his mind has yet to show any signs of growing to match. Working for so long is not good, nor do the reasons he is pushing himself so truly make any sense. I had hoped he would get out of this funk of his without the need of an intervention, but I suppose after I saw Ororo throwing herself into the work right beside him yesterday and the state Jean and Emma have pushed themselves to, I should have realized he was leading by example even in this.

"There he is," Piotr said, pointing in one direction down the long row of resting wounded. Every person in this row was in a potion or spell induced sleep, suffering from horrible wounds that would cripple them for life in various ways. Some had their faces or bodies burned. Some were very obviously missing limbs, or had shots to the stomach, only being kept alive this long by the stasis spell on them. Others lay crippled from spinal damage or brain trauma.

At the far end of one such row was Harry. He was leaning over a man, his magic pulling out a large caliber bullet from inside the man's stomach before he went to work repairing the wound. Piotr smiled at the sight, but that smile turned upside down as he and Hela came close enough to see the bags under Harry's eyes and the jitters in the hand that wasn't currently directing his magic to slowly repair the man's damage. No spell or potion had been created in Harry's old world to heal such wounds, after all, so he was left to direct his will.

"It looks as if Amelia and Una were right, you seem to be working yourself into a collapse Harry Potter," Hela said sternly. She had, Piotr had noticed, waited until he was finished with his current patient though.

Harry looked up from his work on his patient. "Hela, Piotr. Um, what's wrong? Why are you here?"

Hela sighed, then lightly reached out and smacked him with two fingers on his nose. "While your caring nature is one of the many qualities which has attracted me to you, overworking yourself like this out of guilt is not a good thing. You have done enough here. It is now time to pick up your staff of office once more and get to work on the political side of things."

"After a rest," Piotr added, reaching down to pick up a glass bottle which he recognized as the type which contained the pepper-up potions. "A real rest. The world can wait for you to get at least twelve hours of sleep and some food in you. When was the last time you ate, tovarisch?"

Harry frowned, looking around as if realizing for the first time that there might actually be a world beyond the confines of the medical center. "Um…I can't remember. I think Amelia mentioned it, um gave me an energy bar or something."

Looking at Harry, Hela was again reminded that for all of his magical power changing him to a tremendous degree, there were just some things about Harry that were still mortal. One of those things was how long his mind could go without sleep and recuperation. And it was very obvious to Hela that Harry had surpassed those limitations. "I agree, come away, my Seidr Man," she said softly, taking his arm with hers.

"I, can't, I need to, to keep working…" Harry muttered, staring around him. "So many wounded."

"How many Pepper-Up potions have you had?" Piotr asked sternly.

Harry blinked, his eyes not tracking for a moment. "I don't know, I think I lost count at around twenty."

There was a popping sound and Cory stood there, almost glaring at his master. "Cory has kept count. Master has taken over 32 Pepper-Up potions. Each time, the effect lessened and he had to takes another one faster."

"So I need a stronger potion," Harry said with a nod. "That makes sense, but still the potions keep me moving so…"

"NO!" Hela growled while Piotr looped a strong hand around Harry's waist, pulling him up to his feet and then dragging the feebly protesting Harry away from the wounded. "This, the wounded coming, that state of affairs will continue for months Harry Potter. You and Ororo are only two people. Even with magic, there is a limit to what can be accomplished quickly. And do not think you are the only one being rousted out of the medical center. Jean and Emma are both awake after having their own limited downtime and between the two of them they will get Ororo out of here as well eventually."

"I was surprised she joined us in the first place, given all the work she's been doing with Gaea," Piotr said, more to make an actual conversation rather than anything else, overriding Harry's muttered protests.

"Thanks to the Earth Mother's willpower and godly magic sustaining her, Ororo is actually a little better off than our Jarl here, so she will actually be able to do a better job than him in healing these wounded soldiers as well," Hela replied before looking down at Cory, stopping Piotr's efforts with a hand on his shoulder. "Let us be more efficient about this. Cory, pop the three of us down to the portal to Earth and then to the bedroom on High Note."

Cory nodded, his long ears flopping his head moved so fast. A moment later they were standing in front of the runic doorway, passing through it to High Note where, despite his continued resistance, Hela and Piotr slowly peeled Harry out of his clothing and pushed him into the bed. "Sleep," she said tartly. "Real, honest, sleep. You need it more now than you did even after we broke the Dire Wraith's magical assault!"

Then she sighed, sitting down next to him as Piotr smiled at them both and stepped away from the bed, watching but not saying anything. "And I know why you are pushing yourself so hard. You feel guilty for those who were hurt or killed in this war. You feel as if you should have stopped it."

"Not personally," Harry said after a long moment of silence, his words more lucid than they had been, but still not back to the normal energy and vigor he would have normally shown. "I'm not that stupid or egotistical. I couldn't have waved my hand and stopped the violence once it began."

Piotr spoke up then, showing the understanding of the human nature that was so central to why, despite his unwillingness to put himself forward, the former Russian peasant was respected by everyone who knew him. "And even if you could, the fear that kind of show of power would have engendered is horrifying to contemplate." He snorted, shaking his head. "You both have powers and abilities well beyond my understanding, but just like anything else, it is bringing it to bear that really matters. When, how and always remembering the consequences."

Harry nodded weakly. "But, you heard what a lot of the pundits were saying. That, if we had proof of alien involvement, the EDF should have moved the instant Russia launched its attacks."

"And they are fools. Acting against a terrestrial threat is not in Earth Defense Force's charter Harry Potter, and you know it. You wrote the darn thing and the UN agreed with the idea in essence since they do not want the responsibility and have no resources to see to the defense of Earth even if they did."

"I know that up here," Harry said tapping his forehead. "The EDF can't be a simple extension of the United Nations. We can't get involved unless we have incontrovertible proof of alien involvement. But, we could've gotten involved here faster than we did. And when I started to see the wounded coming through thanks to our previous agreements with the Americans and the rest…"

Hela sighed. "We could not have acted without proof. Besides, do you honestly think those nations would have welcomed you? As it is, there is already resentment building up in many of the smaller countries for needing help in the first place. Georgia and Azerbaijan want Turkish troops out instantly now that the shooting seems to have stopped, which isn't going to happen, and Latvia and the Ukraine are both protesting the fact that NATO is going to be building still more bases on their land. Kazakhstan's screaming in every political and public forum it can about the fact that the Subterraneans still haven't been tossed out of their territory. All of them have just forgotten how bad it would have been without the allies' aid! Ungrateful worms, the lot of them!"

"It is hard to be a small country, with big bad Russian nearby and the history of the world as it is, caught between the giant on one side and the seeming warmongers on the other," Piotr interjected mildly before looking at Harry firmly. "Regardless, your guilt is unfounded. You can only do what you can, you cannot control human nature and we could not have moved any sooner than you already had."

"You have done enough on that front for the moment, Harry," Hela said. She heard the door behind her open but didn't turn around. Instead, she pressed Harry's head back into the pillow. "Now, sleep. You will still have duties to see to elsewhere, never fear."

To her relief, Harry was asleep within seconds and she turned, smiling wanly over at the still tired-seeming Jean and Emma. "Well, that was irritating. But for now, I think all of us still have duties to see to, do we not?"

Piotr sighed, but nodded and headed out the door, passing the other two women. They stood there, looking at Harry before turning aside and heading out after him. It was true after all; they still had a lot of work to do.

Harry didn't know how many hours he slept but he woke up feeling, if not entirely revitalized, then certainly more cognizant and aware of his surroundings. He then held his hand to his forehead, because part of what he was now aware of, was a pounding throbbing headache that threatened to burst his head in two. "GAaaaaa…," he groaned.

Instantly there was a pop nearby. "Master is still not feeling well?"

"Gurrh," the wizard groaned in response, trying to open his eyes only to slam them shut again when even the briefest glimpse of light caused the stabbing migraine to get even worse.

"Master is feeling the results of far too many Pepper-Up potions. The addiction aspect be kicking in, but Master's mistresses have warned Cory that's they will do horrible things to Cory if he accepts your orders for Pepper-Up potions again. You are banned from them for more than a year, so says the mistress Stormy."

Harry groaned again, waving one hand feebly. He just wanted the pain to stop, was that too much to ask?

Evidently, it wasn't quite because Cory shook his head and an ice pack of some kind slapped into Harry's forehead, sticking there by magic. "The cold should help Master Potter's head feels better. But Masters be not to have any potions or healing potions until he is feeling better. You'll need to kick this on your own Harry, so says Mistress Flamehair."

Despite the fact Cory had labeled his girlfriends with their house-elf names, a certain sign of accord with the orders, Harry would have argued the point. Indeed, he would've argued the point most vociferously, considering that Jean had gone through something similar recently. And Ororo as well, come to think of it, and more than once. But the cold did actually help and soon, Harry was once more asleep.

The next day, or whenever it was, that he woke up, Harry felt almost fully restored. The light still bothered him when he opened his eyes, but he could concentrate now, move his limbs, even talk. He looked to the side table and noticed that there had been placed several large bottles of water, all of them drained. And then Harry realized that he had to piss like a racehorse.

Fumbling his way out of the covers, Harry got out of bed, standing on weary legs before moving into the refresher station as he shouted out, "Cory, I think I'm on the mend. Who all is available to talk?"

"Mistress Jean is available for talks," Cory said, shimmering into existence from wherever House-elves went while they were simply waiting for their master to call. "Lady Hela and Mistress Emma are also available, Mrs. Ororo is not available, she bes doing her daily eight hours in the healing center."

Harry frowned, wondering if he should join her before a new voice interrupted him. "Don't even think about it, Potter!" Emma said, moving into the room and flopping down on a chair, shaking her head as she twisted herself sideways and put her feet up on the side of it before looking at Harry furiously. "While you've been off playing doctor, which admittedly has had a major impact on our PR aspect, I've been dealing with both politics and business. Someone needs to take half of that load off my shoulders and do it very freaking promptly, or I'm going to scream. And when I do, I'll do it telepathically too."

"All right, I'll take over the business side then," Harry said with a nod, his lips twitching.

"Very funny," Emma said slowly, mock-clapping, "would you like a prize to celebrate your discovery or sarcasm? Or perhaps would you like a helping hand to find where your actual sense of humor has gone. This rented version of yours doesn't do you much justice."

"Okay fine, it was a lame joke and I apologize," Harry said, holding a hand up in token of supplication. "I'll just go and shower my head, see if that brings my sense of humor back shall I?"

"Thank you," Emma said, nodding her head gracious in victory.

"Sounds like a magnificent idea Harry," Emma replied, her eyes suddenly gleaming as she stood up, stripping off her own clothing. "I'll join you."

Before they could get too involved in their 'shower' however, Emma pulled back, sighing. "Jean just arrived with Hela. Damn it." She turned, showing Harry her pert, lily-white rear slick from the shower, shaking her rear at him for a second before leaping with a laugh out of the shower.

"Someday soon I will have my revenge for this treatment," Harry replied mildly, staring from Emma down to his wedding tackle, which was at full mast at that point. "And my vengeance will be terrible indeed."

"Ooh I'm all a-quiver," Emma quipped, pulling on her leggings, shirt, and blouse quickly.

Moments later, Harry joined her out in the bedroom, smiling at Jean and Hela, who looked amused at Emma's wet hair and Emma's twitching lips.

Jean was a little plumper than when Harry had last seen her, but not overly so. At this point, she was near to full term for the pregnancy and Harry, as he lifted up a towel to dry his hair, made a mental note to ask about how well the planning for the wedding was going. After all, it was kind of important that their twins, whatever gender they were, would be born in wedlock rather than out of it. He paused then, blinking. "Hela, would you care to explain why my hair just, dried itself before I could do so?"

"Perhaps a spinoff of your newly heightened powers?" Hela asked, chuckling at the expression Harry was wearing. "Your hair and its untamable quality has always been a side effect of your magic after all."

"Great." Harry rolled his eyes. "So my new level of magical power helps my hair dry… but doesn't seem to help my brain all that much. That is just bloody fantastic."

"You are still nearly mortal Harry. And I wouldn't worry, it doesn't seem to be holding you back… All that much anyway. After all, we have yet to see if your endurance in… other areas can stand up to a true goddess," she said, her black-painted lips quirking wickedly.

She was about to sit down when she felt a spell hit her followed by the feeling of someone slapping her rear. Hela gasped and looked at Harry furiously.

"Interesting," Harry said mildly. "It looks as if with my newfound power, I was able to get through your natural magical defenses. Something to bear in mind unless you want to see me join your little prank war with Illyana? On her side?"

Hela scowled, but forbore to rise to the challenge just right now. Instead, she just sat down, crossing her legs provocatively. She looked over at Emma, asking bluntly "Have you told him anything?"

"Not just yet, Emma said, prevaricating slightly. I wanted us all to be here so that we only have to do this once. And then we were also distracted."

"Distracted, is that what you call it now?" Hela snarked, before looking over at Jean who sat, not in a chair, but on Harry's lap.

He looked up at her questioningly but then Jean was leaning down and kissing him.

Their kiss went on for some time, until finally, Emma said snarkily, "I could've sworn you said back when he was near to collapse that Harry was mortal, Hela. Last time I checked mortal men needed to breathe."

"Perhaps I was wrong, but that would still not explain Jean," Hela replied chuckling.

"I wonder if she's using subconsciously using her telekinetic powers to funnel the two of them air through their noses at a faster rate. I would think that would sting your noses something fierce though," Emma mused, her eyes alight with humor.

Harry and Jean reluctantly disengaged at that point with one of Harry's arms going around her shoulders, the other one even more gently going around her waist as Jean leaned against his shoulder, sighing contentedly. As he began to rub the redhead's swollen stomach he asked, "Was that jealousy I heard just now?"

"No, it was boredom. Making out with someone is fun. Watching someone else make out can be highly arousing, too I suppose. But not with Jean as she is right now," Emma said dryly.

Jean pouted, but Harry's rubbing of her stomach seemed to calm her down instantly and she took that hand in both of hers, her thumbs moving along the back of it.

Yet even with a lovely armful of pregnant Jean in his arms, when he turned his attention to the other three ladies Harry was once more all business. "Well, we're all here, what say we get started. What has been happening since I buried myself in the hospital? Give me a sitrep."

The four women exchanged glances and somehow, without any further communication Harry could follow, Jean found herself forced into speaking first. "Well, first of all, we figured out what was going on in China before the war started and why their army didn't have much in the way of real high tech weaponry. Some other criminal types had apparently attacked his businesses and the Mandarin replied by not only taking over the man's business but also by attacking the man's base of operations, essentially taking over the island of Madripoor lock stock and barrel."

Harry scowled. He knew the name; Sir Dennis had told them about it. It was a lawless island, ruled by descendants of pirate princes, small, not very strong at all militarily, but very important to the area and the world at large as a place where illegal deals could be made. It was the sort of place every government condemned, but all of them used. And if he'd taken it over, then the Mandarin would get a cut for every deal that happened there. "How?"

"It turns out Mandarin had held back two of the last three shipments of infantry weapons he had designed and built and most of the rest had been placed into a centralized location by the People's committee. When it came to it, they just couldn't get them to the front."

"That makes some sense," Harry said with a nod. "Logistics is always an issue. But if that's the case, the Mandarin needs to repay the People's Party and the rest of China. His actions didn't really hurt us all that much, after all, he might have designed the Flame-tongue tanks, but he didn't build them and he couldn't control the logistics side of things either. Let China handle that issue, just tell them to get him in line. Just because he was our conduit to them doesn't mean I want the Mandarin to become some kind of international Kingpin or other."

"We've also learned that the Chinese want to buy a lot of those anti-alien scanners that Reed came up with," Emma interjected with a bit of glee. "With Sage's help, I've already penciled in a deal under your name to sell them four thousand of them as an initial shipment with more following after."

"Good enough, but our main priority for those should be Russia for now, spreading out from there," Harry said with a nod, looking back at Jean.

"The EDF is still growing. Over the past few weeks, we've finished work on the cruisers and the last of the frigates of the mothball fleet we acquired from the Kree. They're all being brought online as soon as we finish training crews for them. That's thanks to the sudden glut of worker droids that have been coming out of the factory on fortress Mars thanks to Polaris and Kitty's work there. I was the one to organize that, along with Carol and Polaris and the two admirals.

"The teams are alright, all their wounds of been healed up and all of the material they lost, a few rifles, some daggers and so forth, have all been replaced. We left Thunderbird in place in Genosha obviously, and I took the liberty of moving a few more members of the Custodes Mundi down to help there. At the moment, we and the Marines supplied by the American fleet there are the only ones really keeping the peace between the two factions in Genosha. They are not exactly happy with one another obviously, although I will admit to some surprise at how well the Brotherhood of Mutants is dealing with the fact that they had basically been fed a load of propaganda for almost their entire time with Sinister and his organization."

"Oh, um, Namor has finally reached out to us through the FF thanks to the fact that the oceans suffered heavily under the touch of that winter weapon. Sage is handling him at this point, although he does want to meet with you personally, in order to iron out more details. He seems to want to push for some kind of taxation on all water travel and thinks that he can do so through you, and yet at the same time just wants to know what the hell happened and wants access to some of our technology. It's confusing," Jean finished, looking over at Emma.

She hadn't been involved in that meeting, but she had ridden piggyback style on Jean's mind during it and Emma now supplied her own opinions. "I think it's the fact that his people have never had a foreign policy. They're not expansionist, they have no need to be. They're not even isolationist, again, their isolation is sort of built-in, given how they live on the ocean floors. And it's confusing him I think that they have suddenly realized their isolation doesn't mean that they can't be affected by what happens up here. Before this point, Namor alone was the only real connection between the Atlanteans and the rest of the world. He's not certain that going to continue and is uncertain what to feel about it one way or the other."

Harry nodded, his eyes flicking back to Jean in his lap again and she went on. "More good news is that the team under Dani which was sent after the Mole Man, or the Dire Wraith posing as him anyway, both discovered and forced the Dire Wraith into its normal form before killing it. The Subterraneans are furious and not doing much of anything at the moment other than fortifying their tunnel entrances to the surface world. Reed is talking to them, but there are issues there, because without the Mole Man…"

Harry interrupted, nodding his head once more. "They don't actually have anything like a government or centralized political structure. They're almost as clannish as the Middle East was before World War I. Maybe a little more so. They are not exactly as violent against one another, thankfully, but there are issues there."

"Exactly," Jean said with a nod of her own and a kiss on the cheek. "We're trying to figure out a way to convince them they need someone able to speak for all of them but it's going to be a while before we make any headway there."

"And the original Mole Man?" Harry asked.

"Presumed dead, though the Subterraneans haven't discovered his body yet," Jean replied.

"The Black Panther is also helping down in Genosha," Hela said, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. "He is bringing in aid workers and suchlike, and they've already begun to move refugees back into the port city. There is even some push to have Genosha join the African Defense Organization. However, the populace is not willing to look to Africa, they don't have the best relations with the nearest countries there and to be blunt, Genosha was actually started by bands of slavers shipwrecked there over time who built their own society. They have little in common with the rest of Africa, you could even say that the way they started to look at mutants leading up to this civil war was an extension of their previous beliefs."

Jean looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment, tugging at the long braid her hair had been put into, looking away. "My…my look-alike, my clone, is being looked after by Charles and Xian, that young Asian telepath he took in. Between the two of them, Charles believes they have a handle on her powers, that and a power inhibitor Reed created. Though mentally, that's a different story, one I'm not willing to touch with a four-foot pole. And it's still freaking creepy to think about Sinister having cloned me like that," Jean said with a grimace, shaking her head. "He's very dead right, I mean he is not going to be able to come back, only…"

"I have told you before Jean," Hela said, reaching out to rest a hand on her knee and squeezing gently. "I talked personally to Mistress Death and she confirmed the passing of his soul. Mr. Sinister will not return. His soul is being… exhumed, cleaned before being returned to the wheel. It is not a pleasant thing for a soul to go through, I am told. Especially one which has built up as much of what the Hindus would call karma as Sinister has."

"Who is leading the brotherhood now?" Harry asked, smiling very coldly for a second at the idea of that man suffering like that for an eternity or two before turning his attention back to the conversation at hand.

"An Asian woman named Dragoness has come forward as their leader. She reports - and she's telling the truth, I checked - that the clones of the Marauders are dead. They'd all been pulled back to help defend the tower and we ripped through them. A few tried to escape to sea but drowned there after being hit by several depth charges. The Brotherhood essentially is defanged and, while an organized force, lacks the willpower to do anything but defend itself at this point," Emma said. "We've been in discussions with them and they might be willing to join the other adult and late teen mutants we've relocated to the Savage Land, although we'll have to watch closely to make certain there's no tension with the existing groups of natives and our other settlers."

"The Press Gang is fighting still, and dying doing it," Hela said grimly. "The Marines and the Black Panther's troops have spread out from the port city and they and Thunderbird don't have any mercy for any press gang members who try to keep fighting."

Harry nodded, then glanced shrewdly between all three ladies as Emma went on smoothly. "On the business side of things, we have been getting increasing demands to release the design for our hover technology. I've decided not to let that happen just yet, but to sell various working models of it, which can then be fitted into whatever vehicle they wish, patenting each version in turn. Elsewhere, of course, life has continued…"

"All three of you are trying to soften me up for something and it's very easy to see the elephant in the room here," Harry said interrupting her with a scowl. "Russia. What's been going on with the country that, you know, is larger than a few of Earth's continents?"

Hela twitched, but now it was her turn to lose some kind of womanly mental duel between the three ladies and she answered gamely. "Well first, North Korea began making demands and shooting off missiles at soon as it was clear the war was over. I believe that is the perfect example of a little dog falling silent when a larger more aggressive one is around, but it is still annoying to hear it's yapping."

"Not our problem," Harry said cheerfully. "Unless they're making moves against their mutant population?"

"No, not so much. There are still the normal pogroms and assaults, but Wendy seems to have drilled her team into a well-organized unit by this point and she is handling as many rescue operations as she can without working them all into an early grave. She has requested more people though."

"And Russia," Harry said leadingly now looking very worried. "Come on, you're still stalling."

"I'm not stalling, I am simply leading up to the more important item," Hela said huffily, knowing full well she and the others had been stalling because the news about Russia wasn't good.

"I'll be involved in the Genosha issue because it's mutant related and the Russian issue because that is extraterrestrial in origin. North Korea doesn't matter and while everything else was interesting to hear, none of it was important. Now talk!" Harry ordered.

Hela's eyes narrowed dangerously at his tone and Harry held up a hand, apologizing without words, but then gestured with one hand for her to answer anyway. With another glare which implied that he would be paying for that tone later, she did so. "The European Union, the organization that had been made to meet the demands of the EDF, is now moving into a more permanent thing, a kind of overarching government. However, to get off the ground they need funds and they want those funds to come from Russia, furthermore, they are pushing demands for Russia's dissolution into smaller nations."

"What exactly are the other countries saying? Harry asked, struggling to find a word to describe the various political groups.

"The African Defense Organization doesn't care," Emma said, counting off on fingers. "They didn't send troops or even money or material into the fight against Russia. Most of them are more intent on wooing or possibly even pushing for a full takeover of Genosha. Luckily for us, the Black Panther understands how we would react to that kind of thing and America has very bluntly stated that it's not going to happen. Any imperialism in that direction is not going to succeed."

"The South American group SARU also doesn't care. They've been concentrating on meeting the EDF's material and fiscal requirements too much, too grateful for the two Verdun class space platforms stationed over them to do much else. America and Canada have also both been relatively silent, although there it is, frankly, because they have no idea what they want," Hela took over with a sneer.

"The joys of democracy," Harry quipped, shaking his head. "Still I imagine they'll herd their cats into line at some point in the future."

"The UK is pretty much silent for the same reasons, which means that the only ones that have a clear policy are those who want Russia to spill out its life-blood willingly to pay for its wrong. Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan, even China, every nation which was directly invaded is pushing for the full dissolution of Russia. On top of that, they are making demands of money and materials which would beggar even that nation, or indeed any other, for years."

Harry groaned irritably, rubbing at his lightning scar. "This does not make me happy," he said his tone one of deep understatement.

"They think that they can push for America to supply the troops to take over Russia and…" Hela began.

"That's just not going to happen," Harry said sharply. "Russia is too big! Way too big."

"And the European Union can't meet our demands in terms of manpower types any longer," Hela continued, unperturbed by his outburst, merely adding it to the tally he would have to make up for later. "France, Italy, Spain, and Greece are, in fact, making noises about repudiating the agreements reached."

"Germany isn't, they love their arc reactor too much. Indeed they might ask for more, but that is in the future. And of course, Russia is refusing any such thing, claiming to have been unwilling dupes of the alien, the true threat out there," Emma said, scowling. "Neither side is willing to compromise, one because they smell blood in the water and the other because they are fighting for their nation's very existence."

"Thus it is turning into a dogfight and all the while the armies stare at one another across no man's land and everyone is wondering if someone's going to suddenly develop itchy trigger fingers!" Hela growled. "Politicians," she spat making the word into a curse with all of the hauteur and disdain a goddess could convey. "Have none of them learned from their own histories?"

"I rather think that they have, they've simply learned the wrong lessons," Harry said with a sigh. "At least in some cases, although if they are pushing for this then yes, France at least hasn't learned from history at all. But you're right. Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it and I refuse to let Russia become a second Germany."

"Or worse yet, a second Middle East," Jean supplied. "The Russians have areas where there are a lot of other ethnicities, especially in the Balkans, near the borders to Georgia and Azerbaijan. They keep a lid on regional conflicts through main force. Would a military occupation, especially one that had democracies looking over their shoulders, be willing to do the same thing?"

"Not if the Americans run it," Harry shook his head. "But they won't, will they? I know that I said it earlier but…"

He looked at Emma and Hela in particular at that point, knowing the two of them were her his best political advisors. Hela because she was a ruler in her own right – if of a very odd realm - and an incredibly good judge of character without the use of magic or telepathy. Emma had been his economic advisor from the start and that bled over into the social and political scenes.

"You would have to ask Mary Jane," Hela said with a sigh. "I can tell you what I believe the politicians are truly after and Emma could tell you what a few of them are actually thinking but that is all."

Harry looked at her sharply and Emma quickly shook her head. "I didn't go searching around in their minds for secrets Harry, don't worry, no matter how much I wanted to do just that. But I don't have to. A few of them that I met in my Diamond persona or dressed up in my Phoenix illusion broadcasted so much it was appallingly easy to pick up on them."

"There are a few we might want to watch by the way," she went on more clinically, scowling irritably. "Many still harbor anti-mutant sentiments, or simply anti-Harry sentiments. They don't like how violently you have overturned the status quo, despite the fact that doing so allowed us to be in a position to help with this latest issue with Russia."

"Leave that for now. Right off the bat, I want an answer to my initial question," Harry replied.

When she was called in, Mary Jane sounded frazzled, tired and more than a little put-out. But she still had an answer and said firmly, "America will in no way be willing to put up with the price of supplying the majority of troops to occupy Russia. Ignore what the war hawks are saying, that is a strong public opinion that crosses the political divide. Canada's much the same, although they didn't lose as many troops as America did, not having had as many with the NATO forces in the first place."

Harry nodded, looking relieved. "Good. I'll want that in writing later, as well as who in your opinion is the policymaker on this issue, but I'll call you in for that in the morning. Thanks, MJ."

MJ replied in the affirmative to that, then signed off, heading back to a dinner date with Wyatt the call had interrupted. I'm happy to see Mister Harry up and about again but come on, we've been running around ragged for nearly a month now thanks to the war and everything it's caused. I deserve some me time!

Back in the bedroom on High Note, Harry sighed, standing up as he paced, kneading the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, almost tripping between one step and the next. Was it just him, or did his lightning bolt scar feel a little more prominent? Like instead of fading, the scar had become more pronounced. Weird.

Regardless, since he couldn't sense any kind of foreign magic or negative impact on his body or core, he turned his mind back to the Russian issue, considering the matter carefully. "Now is the time for statecraft, as Hela said when she roused me out of the hospital," Harry mused, as if to himself, having possibly forgotten three of his four ladies were in the room with him. "The question becomes, how to make Russia a friend and do so in such a way that we don't insult our existing allies. What leverage do we have against both, what do we want from both and what should we off in turn."

"Truly, you have put your finger on the crux of the matter, my Seidr man," Hela said with a firm, and rather proud, nod.

"It is a sign of a good statesman that they can make friends out of enemies and we need to here. Russia is too big and too important, especially with its hidden factories and their underground tunnel system. Heck, if we can get the Subterraneans to join us through the Russians, that would be even better."

"Yet it is a poor jarl who tramples over old friends in order to make new ones. We must always be cautious of such, lest you lose all the momentum that we have gained in your various enterprises," Hela warned. "Many a war leader or Emperor has made that mistake and comes out of it the poorer."

"True enough," Harry said with a frown, before moving out onto the patio overlooking the jungle set into the center of High Note. There he conjured up two more chairs to join the two already there, conjurations he had made permanent a few weeks before the Dire Wraiths and Russians had started their assault. He sat in one chair, gesturing the ladies to join him, smiling at the scent and sound of the jungle. "So, what should we say we want out of this and how do we get what we really want?"

Emma frowned, looking over at Hela and then Harry as she and Jean joined them. "Well, there will be reparations for certain. Russia will have to pay them and will have to admit it's culpability in this war. They can say they were tricked by the aliens, infiltrated or whatever, but they'll still have to pay."

"What kind of numbers are being thrown about for that?"

"Nothing solid yet, that's part of why everyone's arguing, everyone wants a large chunk of the pie."

"Then that's our first job, to make sure that those reparations are of a limited nature, not beggaring Russia. In fact, we might be able to use that as a feint, make it seem as if we want to work with the Russians to not pay much, but then compromise on how those reparations are to be paid out: instead of money have Russia payout in resources. Oil for certain, natural gas," Harry counted off. "I think I saw an estimate once that said Russia contained something like 25 percent of the world's total resources?"

"The Americans and the Chinese will back that and the Indians as well and I think even the United Kingdom. All of them are going to be unwilling to turn the screws for one reason or another. But another area we'll need to work on is land," Emma said with Hela nodding agreement beside her as Jean sat next to Harry, pulling her chair next to his and leaning her head on his shoulder. It looked as if the pregnant redhead was going through a very touchy-feeling phase at the moment, which was fine by Harry.

"Go on," Harry said with a nod. "I'll need to get brought up to speed on everything pertaining to this issue as soon as possible but we can start from the top."

Emma nodded and exchanging a brief glance with Hela, she began. "Well, I'll start on the economic and logistical side of things. First, the fronts have stabilized pretty well. Thanks to our tech and Stark's, we've been able to create a logistical pipeline, both overland and through the air. That's having a decent impact on the local economies on the allied side of the lines. On the Russian side, they've begun to supply themselves decently enough down in the Balkans and the forces that pulled out of Europe have combined and created a new front around some giant river there…"

"The Volga, you irritatingly blinkered woman," Hela said, the very mild slur coming out with more affection than any real heat. "And it isn't so much along the river, as the head of the river up to St. Petersburg, which is still in Russian hands as Finland has no desire to come anywhere near it and, further, no wish to launch an offensive war. But they have reclaimed much of the land they had owned in decades previous, and that seems to be enough for both sides as, despite their drubbing, the Russians were the ones to open up peace talks."

"Who are the movers and shakers in Russia at this point?" Harry asked, one arm looping around Jean's shoulders, taking almost as much comfort in having her there as she obviously was in him.

"Two members of their Senate and three generals, with the most senior being a member of the State Duma named Ivan Zigersky and a general named Barisov," Hela replied promptly. "I've been watching not only the news but reading Sir Dennis's reports and Sage's on what is going on in Russia since the revelations and we actually have something of an internal ally at this point. A mutant named Sputnik is helping Sir Dennis and Sage, he seems to have been infuriated by the truth of our allegations of alien infiltration."

"Alright, we'll start there, though first I'll get in touch with…" Harry paused then as Hedwig appeared, gliding into the room to land on his shoulder, rubbing her head against his and biting at his hair affectionately, though tugging on it hard to show her irritation at his having pushed himself so hard over the past few weeks.

"It always amazes me how you know exactly when I'll need you girl. And your thoughts are appreciated too. Don't worry, once these political talks are done, I fully intend to take a least two weeks off to just rest and recuperate," Harry said with a fond smile, reaching up to stroke her feathers, as the girls all looked on with faint grins on their faces.

"Which of them is most senior, in terms of the Russian government I mean. Let's make this somewhat official."

"Where? Will we have these talks? Fortress Mars is too militaristic," Jean said promptly shaking her head, taking part in the conversation for the first time. "Especially for the Russians, who haven't contributed anything to its construction, unlike most of the others, at least in terms of materials and food."

"I do want someplace in space though," Harry said. "Here in High Note? We can have them here without having them actually knowing the secret, although we'll have to move High Note afterward in case they figure out where we are in relation to the Earth's rotation."

"I'll help prepare the area in the jungle for them then," Hela concurred. "And maybe some magic on the walls to make them transparent? The view is, after all, magnificent even for one such as I. For the politicians and especially for a discussion that will touch on the EDF and aliens, it will be a most pointed message."

Harry suddenly frowned. "Dr. Doom. I presume Doom doesn't want anything from Russia, other than maybe money? And even that's doubtful."

"No, he doesn't want anything from them or at least hasn't indicated any such to us. Russia is too far from Latveria's borders for him to care about now that they pulled out of Ukraine. There have been some rumbles there, about how a known supervillain and former terrorist is basically conquering other nations around him, no matter the provocation. But it hasn't gotten anywhere in the UN just yet."

"And it's not my problem," Harry said bluntly. "Let Dr. Doom fight his own battles. I'm quite certain he would be rather furious at the idea that he couldn't. Although, if the Subterraneans want to have some kind of access to the surface, but can't reach an agreement with Kazakhstan, perhaps Dr. Doom and myself can help them with that."

"You want anyone on our side of the military involved?" Emma asked, pulling out a personal computer Reed had developed for them, smaller than her paired hands, and typing into it.

Harry frowned, thinking. "Yes," he said at last. "Let's ask General Murphy for the EDF and the coalition commander from the Balkans, plus whoever worked with Steve in Poland. That'll do for the military side of things I think?" He looked at Hela who frowned, then nodded slowly before adding that the Finns might want to bring along a military advisor. "That's fine. But I'll also ask if the Black Panther would be willing to sit in."

That surprise all three ladies and he shrugged. "He and I will probably never quite get along, thanks to bad first impressions, but he is a king in his own right and in terms of the war against Russia, a neutral party. I'll want at least two more neutral parties too, representatives of nations that were not at all involved against Russia. They'll form a quorum and it'll be everyone's job to basically create an agreement that those three agree can work. We'll need to prepare information packets for them and me too, but that will be another job I'll have Sage do."

Hela burst out into laughter, not in humor but disdain, like the cry of a hawk. "You are making a mistake Harry Potter to believe that everyone wants something that is fair and just."

"What they want and what they need are two different things and both are different from what they'll get," Harry said grimly. "One way or another, this war is not going to flare up again and there is not going to be any kind of enforced occupation of a country that dwarfs the entirety of Europe! It would be a recipe for disaster, the kind of grinding incessant guerrilla warfare that the Americans saw in Vietnam on a scale that I don't even want to think about. That is the objective here ladies, to make sure that doesn't happen, to make sure that the Russians sign on with the EDF, and to make certain that humanity focuses on the threat up in the stars."

"And social changes too, Harry," Jean interjected firmly, leaning away from him to glare into Harry's eyes. "We're getting back to that whole 'don't ignore old allies' thing. The Russians are one of the worst nations for how they treat their mutants. We need to change that, or else assign two or three teams the size of Stinger's to them fulltime to try and get all the mutants that the Big Book of Students finds out before they can be killed."

"Agreed," Harry said with a nod.

"We can tie that into other demands on the social level," Hela said. "Mary Jane said something interesting about that, so you might want to check-in with her as well and to figure out who to bring along on the American side, which she has a far better handle on than I. The president is an obvious one, but I think she said something about the House of Representatives Speaker or something like that, I can never keep the democracies' various titles in my mind, oh, and the new Speaker of the Senate not being a real power in the Senate any longer? Something about some kind of scandal recently brought to light."

"In America that would probably just be another Monday wouldn't it?" Harry quipped.

"Ouch," Emma and Jean, both Americans and rather proud of it, said as one, reaching out to smack Harry on the shoulders then laughing.

OOOOOOO

General Barisov, recently of the 4th Army Group, in charge of the annexation of Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania, was a trim, spare man with a long flowing goatee which seemed to have sapped all the energy from the rest of his sunken, old-before-its-time face. He had, after some vicious infighting and more than a dozen other generals being ousted as Dire Wraiths or their sympathizers, become the creator and then head of the Volga-Petersburg-Kaluga defensive line. One of the two most important defensive positions, with the other being the Caspian front. As such, he was arguably one of the ten, perhaps even one of the five, most important men in Russia right now.

He was currently scowling as he stared at the bird waiting for him on the windowsill. The fact that the owl was there at all, with all of the antiair guns around his bunker and his personal guards outside, was disturbing in the extreme. The intelligence gleaming at him out of those huntress's eyes merely added to the impact. The fact that there was a note of some kind tied to her leg simply added another layer to the oddity.

After a few fulminating moments, he finally voiced one of the many questions its arrival had evoked in his mind. "And what are you supposed to be? A familiar perhaps? Has some ancient Baba Yaga shown an interest in me?"

The owl's eyes narrowed, and it barked dangerously, clacking its beak at him although how the Barisov could tell that, was beyond him. "So that was no, but I thought all owls hooted, but that wasn't a hoot," he asked mildly.

Now the snowy owl looked affronted. "Very well, I will humor you, drop it over there."

With a final glare, the bird leaned down and began to nip at the string tied around her leg.

Quickly Barisov reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the bird. But before he could complete the move, the bird had disappeared, only to reappear directly in his face, grabbing at the gun with one clawed hand as it hovered in midair, it's beak stabbing forward only to stop a near centimeter away from his eyes.

Barisov stopped, frozen in shock. He tried to blink, only to have the bird's beak stop his eyelash from closing, so close was it to his eye. A single twitch and Barisov would lose the eye, which instantly began to water. If the bird wanted to, it was quite clear that it could do even more damage with a bit more effort.

Slowly that bird beak backed away, just enough to open to admit the weird sound it had made before. Somehow knowing what it wanted, he convulsively let go of the gun, letting it clack to the desktop, raising his hand away from it. I hadn't even had time to remove the safety!

The bird hopped back, landing on his desk lightly, then tore at the bindings on its leg and dropped the parchment on his desk before flapping its wings once, rising into the air hovering there with a few wing flaps. It glared at him for a moment before winging its way out the door as it banged open and two guards moved in, the rifles at the ready. They both ducked out of the way of the bird automatically and between one wing flap and the next, it was gone.

"General, what was that? I, did that just happen?" One private asked, lowering his rifle and scratching at his forehead.

"Certainly it was not a hallucination," Barisov said, looking down at where his hand had been quite badly scratched by the bird as he spoke in his usual clipped, proper tones. "Could you go and get some bandages, I think I'm going to need them," he went on mildly, before reaching forward with his other hand and opening the sealed scroll of parchment on his desk.

"General, that could be a bomb!" The other private protested as the first one who spoke turned and ran back out of the room to find the aforementioned bandages.

"While I am certain that the Americans and British do amazing things with explosives, I doubt they would need one when they can use that particular bird. If it wanted me dead, I most certainly would be at this moment. As such, I believe that this is if not actually important then at least not life-threatening."

Barisov opened the envelope and read what was within it briefly, staring at the gold disc that had fallen out with it. Lifting it up, he thumped it on the side of the desk, blinking at the heavy *thump* it gave. "A disc of pure gold," he mused, setting it down, before reading the message quickly. "And, with a specific spell on it, I see. I think I have some phone calls to make and then, perhaps this cease-fire of ours with the so-called allies may become a full peace in time."

Thankfully, Hedwig's journeys elsewhere had gone far more swiftly than with Barisov. On her first trip, she hadn't run into any issues until after the King of Britain, William the Fifth read the message, whereupon he shook his head. "I am not in charge of foreign policy in my government. I might control the purse when it comes to the military and I most certainly am willing to declare war, but when it comes to peace, I must hand this over to my Prime Minister and her foreign secretary."

Hedwig precked then kicked at the golden disc with a talon, looking back at the King appraisingly. "Ah, that will work on anyone, then?"

The owl nodded her head and the King smiled blandly. "In that case, I will agree to this, I will get together…"

He was interrupted by the owl quickly shaking her head. She then hooted twice, then flicked her head upwards.

That took a bit for the king to parse out, but he finally nodded. "Ah only the actual policymakers, none of their hangers-on? That makes sense, I suppose. In that case, I think you need to get out of here before my granddaughter sees you, she seems to have developed a fondness for you during her time in Camelot."

The bird precked in amusement and then hopped off his desk, flapping her wings strongly, rising into the air before vanishing out a window at his winter castle.

This meeting with the king of the UK was much more normal than the meeting with Barisov, although there was a tense moment with the Finnish general, who was apparently a part-time taxidermist. But beyond that, most of the people who saw Hedwig had, by this point realized there was more to the world than their previous beliefs, whatever they might have been, allowed for. The idea of magic and an owl delivering such was not nearly as unusual as, oh, the entire world being plunged into winter without end, or a man able to create giant earthquakes or aliens existing.

OOOOOOO

One by one the port keys activated, bringing in the different parties. First, of course, were Harry's solid allies: Dr. Doom, Prime Minister Thatcher, and William himself, followed by the American president, Samuel Northton and his foreign secretary, whom Harry hadn't met before, an elderly extremely-frail looking black man with large coke-bottle glasses named Adam Roselli. They found Harry and General Murphy there already, but Harry rose, smiling and gesturing them into seats. He paused when he noticed that only Doom was looking at him. Not one of the others, nor General Alluca of the Caucuses Front or General Heinzweger, who had worked with Steve and his team on the Polish front, were looking at him. Or even the jungle around them.

No, they were staring up through the side of High Note which Hela had made transparent for this meeting. "I...i-is that Earth!? Are we actually in orbit?" the president asked, staring. "I've been to Fortress Mars but this, this is…"

"Yes we are in orbit," Harry said with a nod. "I've not gotten tired of that view. Now please, take a seat, the others will be appearing momentarily, and I don't think we want the receiving area there too crowded."

"Others?" The president asked, looking around and shrewdly noting who was there already. "Your message said that this was to discuss what to do about the Russian Question, not what that would entail."

"It will entail actual policymakers around the world talking face to face, not through intermediaries, not the media, not through any other layer but your own voices," Harry said firmly. "We need this war to be brought to a real close, gentlemen. A true peace, not just a cease-fire as everyone bickers about the results and what it matters. I'm under no illusion that it can happen swiftly, but it will happen through this discussion."

The president smirked, leaning back and shaking his head. "You know, the president of the most powerful country in the world really isn't used to being dictated to like this."

"Are you the most powerful country in the world now?" Harry asked dryly cocking his head quizzically and locking eyes with the president.

"Well, in every normal way that most people think we are Harry, even if using that strength against you appears to be the next best thing to impossible outside of perhaps the economic theatre," the president grumbled, shaking his head. "Don't think that we haven't noticed though that a vast majority of the superpowers in the world are now looking to you to lead them. That's dangerous."

"It would be if I don't lead them well," Harry said shrugging her shoulders. "And you forget Mr. President, that for every one mutant or superpowered individual that has joined me, I've added dozens of mutants who are under my protection. My accumulation of power was for two purposes: to defend Earth from extraterrestrial threats and to defend mutants and humans from the blind bigots among both groups. If I thought for a moment that humanity could be expected to keep the EDF running without it becoming one nation's personal toy or an outgrowth of the rather idiotically indecisive UN, I could retire. You tell me the odds of that happening," he finished, one eyebrow rising in query.

At that point, Dr. Doom sat next to Harry and Harry started pouring out some fire whiskey for him, explaining what it was to the president before offering him some, which he accepted. As he did so, Harry eyed Paris Seville, who had appeared with Dr. Doom, sitting down next to him dressed in a somewhat severe but pristine ivory and white business suit.

"Now that's interesting," Emma murmured into Harry's mind via the link Jean had created between herself and Harry, the redhead having reached out to Emma, acting as a conduit. "I wonder if that means they're serious. It would be nice if that's the case. After that whole debacle with Buckman, Paris deserves to have some happiness. Although I've no idea if Doom could give it to her."

"I wonder if she's going to try to skew the news channels she owns in his direction, or not," Jean interjected.

"They're both smart enough to know how badly that could backfire," Emma said tartly. "But she could run personal interest news to balance anything negative about him that gets out. That way she's just looking as if she's trying to remain neutral, instead of entirely in his pocket."

"Really?" Jean murmured. "Are you sure it's not his pants that she's in?"

"Does he technically wear pants? Isn't there a technical term for armored leggings?" Hela asked, her tone positively gleeful as she spoke through the linkage that Jean was sustaining between them all.

"I have no idea," Harry said with a mental laugh at them all. "And I'm not going to speculate."

Harry engaged Doom in a conversation on the recent war and then the EDF, pulling in the president and Minister Thatcher for a few moments. But soon more delegates came in, including T'challa and the neutral parties, and he became busy meeting and greeting them. Soon the area was full of the delegates and Harry had ushered each of them into their chairs.

"I like this," Barisov admitted as if the words caused him physical pain. "Your owl messenger is a little disturbing, but this face to face with our fellows, this is good."

William chuckled. "I actually came up with a new label for Harry because he is such a fan of this sort of thing: The Bull Shite Cutter."

"Heh, well, I rather like that label much better than my old 'Boy Who Lived' one," Harry replied with a lopsided smile.

Barisov chuckled dryly. "Then you would hate to hear what you are being called among my troopers." When Harry just looked at him blandly, the man went on. "You are known as He-Who-Brings-the-Fire among them."

"Heh, he's called the Emerald-Eyed King by my people," T'challa interjected, which a few of the other politicians nodded at, having heard that from a few news agencies.

Hearing this through Harry's ears, Hela smiled in approval, happy that her Seidr Man was winning more renown, while Harry simply groaned, shaking his head. But he felt Hela's approval vanish an instant later as the Spanish representative, a man named Georgio Moncovelli, say, "That's one my newsies bruit about, but the one I like the most is the one that's appeared in the gossip rags before this latest trouble. They call him the True Son of Aphrodite."

"Excuse me, how dare anyone say Harry is related to that, that slut goddess!?" Hela shouted into Harry's head and Harry was very thankful that Jean was the one controlling their connection, not her. That kept the volume of her response muted enough to let him keep from twitching at her sudden shriek.

"Um, where did that come from?" he asked plaintively. "I mean, all the others I can understand, even if I don't like them, but that one?"

"You were recorded by security cameras dating Storm at one point, but recently you've also been recorded in public with an unknown blonde woman of supermodel level beauty and a mysterious raven-haired woman," the Spaniard said with a smile. "Although oddly enough their features never come out in pictures or video."

While Harry was dealing with the fact that his fame had reached the point where he would have trouble going out at all without getting recorded and relief at the fact his minor glamors had done their job one of the two representatives from Turkey spoke up, thankfully returning to the topic of this meeting. "Nothing here can be finalized. And I resent the fact that we are not all here. I see an American, I see a Briton. I do not see an Indian, a Chinese, or any of our fellow Middle Eastern countries."

"Your fellow Middle Eastern countries are not here because they did not take part in the war. They did not send material, men or anything else, Representative Bayram," Harry said to the Turkish man, smiling in thanks to the change of subject. Both of the reps from that country were members of the current ruling party of Turkey, the Anavatan Partisi or the Motherland Party. "The men and women here are the ones that fought and whose people bled, or in any way paid for the war."

Harry smiled thinly. "As for China, their representative will come by in about an hour and their demands are simple enough to understand. They want their lands back to the Alar River back and help to create a series of fortifications along with it, as well as a formal apology from the Russians for their unprovoked attack. But the Chinese realize they were a bit of a sideshow in this war and we've already been in contact with them. They are willing to leave their demands at that, so long as they receive aid in creating the fortifications."

That had been an interesting discussion. It turned out that the Chinese, as angry and annoyed as they were about the war in general, in no way wanted anything from Russia beyond their lands returned except perhaps metal and an apology. China was already too large, their internal transportation networks too unformed for them to want to aid swaths of new land, especially on the other side of a border they had deliberately left undeveloped. Further, they in no way wanted to add non-Chinese ethnic groups into their own territory (although of course, China wasn't exactly a single-race nation as it was). This was a pragmatic view of the world that Harry deeply approved of.

"Why are they here!?" Georgian representative said, pointing angrily at the Black Panther. For some reason, the man was really glaring at the Moroccan representative, which was unusual. "Perhaps he lost money at their casinos or something," Harry shared idly to the laughter of his ladies.

Aloud, however, he replied mildly, "The Black Panther and the representatives of Brazil and Morocco are here as neutrals. They will form the judicial panel of this meeting, to make certain that everything is above board."

"Above board? While you people decide on how you are going to carve up Mother Russia?!" said one of the other Russian representatives, an old intense-looking man whose appearance, strangely enough, put Harry in mind of images he'd seen of Rasputin, only far better dressed.

"No," Harry said firmly. "Let me get say this bluntly, gentlemen. The Custodes Mundi will not condone the unilateral disarmament or, as the Russian ambassador says, the equally unilateral carving up of Russia. It is untenable, we simply couldn't do it, so let us aim for something that is more realistic."

"We agree with this," the American president said quickly, followed an instant later by Thatcher and, surprisingly, the Finnish rep and Dr. Doom.

That caused shouts from a lot of the representatives and Harry was content to let them vent their spleens for a few moments, wanting to see who controlled themselves first and how long it took. Then Doom interrupted them, contempt clear in his tone from behind his metal mask. "Are you fools so set on creating another Middle East?"

That shut them up and he pointed at the Turkish representatives, who looked pained. "We already have a blatant example of what happens when other countries decide where borders are, without caring about regional issues or demographics. At least the British have learned from history."

Harry cut in then as he made what hay he could from Doom's start, gesturing at the Germans and the French, who had been placed at two different tables. "Exactly. And we also have a historical example of what happens when the reparations are too high and far too unrealistic." He paused then smiled. "I believe that all of us here are intelligent enough to have learned from history. If I am wrong in that statement, please correct me now."

The fulminating silence that this bland, yet very blunt statement evoked lasted for a few moments, as they all glared at Harry. None of them seemed to have the courage to stare at Doom, something that made Hela mutter into his mind about making them fear him just as much, before being shushed by Jean and Emma. But Harry smiled back at them cheerily, though the smile did not reach his hard, emerald eyes.

William stood up, pushing himself up with difficulty as he looked around the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, while his words are rather far too blunt, to be truly called diplomatic, we all have to admit that Harry Potter has a point. The world is rife with examples of stark imperialism at its worst, of foreign countries acting as they will without regard to the consequences. I have lived through three wars now. That is more than enough. Please do not sow the seeds for another to occur in my son's time."

That statement, coming as it did from the ninety-plus king of the United Kingdom, who was by far the oldest and among the most respected world leaders, caused everyone with half a brain or any knowledge of history to pause. A few didn't but the glares from their fellows, especially Doom and Harry's twin stares, silenced them. It was truly a tossup to which was scarier, the dark, blank mask of Doom and it's black eye-slits, or Harry's hard, nearly electric magical eyes.

William went on smoothly, his aged voice reaching to the far corners of this magnificent jungle, which somehow had been transported to Earth's orbit. "Is Russia in the wrong? This cannot be denied." The Russians all seemed to swell up in protest, but the King glared at them and though his body was starting to fail him, there was nothing wrong with his glare. Indeed, the years had merely added to its power. "Yes, you were tricked by the aliens and so what? I have it on good authority that at least some of your generals and higher-ups knew about the aliens and went along with their plans, believing that Russia would be stronger."

He waited to see if they would dispute that, but since that news had been broadcast throughout the world by this point by nearly every news agency, even in places like China and Russia, they could not dispute the truth. "They chose to kneel to the aliens, these Dire Wraiths and your whole nation has paid for it. But it was your nation which demanded payment from the rest of the world. That will be the starting point. That Russia acknowledges its culpability and shoulders the blame for this war."

As he sat down the Russians, most of them, shouted at that, banging their fists on the tabletop and roaring out that the Dire Wraiths were to be blamed and had already been punished. Had not Russia been slaughtering every one of them that could be found within its borders? Had not the Guardian killed their leader and then done…something to the Crystal of Ever Winter? "We are the victims in this, more than anyone else!"

"Oh," the American president asked sharply, "was it the Dire Wraiths who pulled the trigger of this war? Was it the Dire Wraiths who launched your armies at our throats? Did the Dire Wraiths do all the fighting? No! Your nation did. And it is your nation which must pay."

At that point, Harry cut in smoothly on Emma's prompting. He would have let the two sides shout at one another some more, thinking it best to get it all over with at one point. It worked for arguing children after all. "But adults Harry, are much more prone to hold grudges than young children for words said in anger. And most aren't shouting just for the sake of shouting."

With a wave of his hand and a "killjoy" to Emma, Harry summoned a blast of thunder into the room, silence everyone before he stood up, speaking formally. "But, let it be said that if you admit to this, that the reparations that we demand in turn will not be as onerous as they would otherwise be. There's a lot of good Russia could do for the world and for the defense of earth against other alien threats if you would join us willingly."

"So that is the carrot then," one of the Russians said, pushing up his glasses thoughtfully to stare at Harry as if the earlier moment of spleen-venting hadn't occurred. "To become part of the earth defense force in truth, we must admit that we were in the wrong. Very well, we can accede to that."

His fellows looked at him in shock and he shrugged. "This is a negotiation, gentlemen. And I would rather we negotiate from a position of strength than from a position of weakness that will beget further weakness. We cannot, as the King of the English said, argue the fact that we were in the wrong. That many of our higher generals and officers went along with the Dire Wraiths willingly.

"They were not a representation of our nation!" the older man shot back glaring.

"No they are not, but when has that ever mattered, when they were the most powerful? They yoked the rest of the nation into moving in lockstep with them. In that, they are just as much to blame as the Soviet government was for Stalin." The man replied equably.

The other Russians scowled, while the Georgians and the Azerbaijan representatives looked smug and began to talk about what they wanted in reparations in terms of remuneration. That caused further shouting from the Russians, although the man in glasses didn't raise his voice, merely letting out a few cutting barbs. The Turks then came in on the side of the Georgians and Azerbaijani, with Poland soon adding their own weight into things. Doom then replied to a shot across the bows from the Ukrainian rep, his response causing the man to turn first white in fear then red in apoplexy.

This went for a few more moments of shouting until once more Harry, having waited until Doom had finished speaking, silenced them all. He waited until they all realized it, then canceled the spell and said mildly, "Gentlemen, the reason why I brought you all together here was so we could cut through the bull-shite. I believed that we were all going to be intelligent, thinking individuals rather than reactionaries. Was I wrong? Am I, in fact, talking to children, who cannot understand that they need to make agreements and deals rather than demands?"

"You're not making friends here Harry," Emma replied his head, her tone almost gleeful.

"What are your demands of us Mr. Potter?" The quiet Russian asked, once more pushing up his glasses. He seemed to be the leader of the Russians somehow, an observation that Emma and Jean both confirmed. How that was, when he was actually the least senior of the group was a mystery, but Harry decided to put it down to natural charisma and self-control, for now.

"My personal demands and offers are simple enough to state, though I am under no illusion they will be simple enough to meet, never fear. "First, I demand that the Russian government starts to stamp out the anti-mutant propaganda and pogroms, along with allowing freedom of religion, the suppression of which I know has been slowly ramped up recently." The Russians all flinched at that, but Harry went on. "In return for that, I will extend the same medical equipment and access to magical healing that I have opened up to the allies."

Barisov stopped breathing for a moment as the other Russians just stared, until the general spoke in a croak, "Are, are you talking about what you did to that old general of the British Demontebanks, healing his crippled legs?"

"Yes," Harry said bluntly. "That is precisely what I'm talking about. I've been doing that and more over the past two weeks prior to this meeting." A little white lie, since Harry had slept for twenty-four hours and then taken twelve hours to break and then another half-day to set this up, but still, that would take far too long to explain.

"That is a tremendous offer, but you are also asking quite a lot of us," the thoughtful Russian said while everyone around them fell silent. This was something no one else there cared about one way or another since their soldiers already had access to those very things, even if that access was slow. "Social viewpoints, especially if they are built into the very structure of their nation, are very difficult to change."

"They are, but they become easier if those in power are intelligent enough to realize that the social problem in question is self-destructive. There are more mutants being born every year ladies and gentlemen, most of them with powers that range from having scales or fur to just seeing in the dark. Most mutants are simply victims of their power, rather than empowered by it. And it is always the innocent that suffer first," Harry said, his face set in an angry glare as he looked around the room, making certain his words got through to everyone there.

The Russians began to huddle around talking quietly, while Harry and the others waited. "We can only promise to try in good faith. Will that be enough?"

"That will be enough to give you access to our medical equipment. You will not give you access to our technologies, nor will Magical Minds agree to sell our medical equipment to you. But, in return, I will agree to offer jobs to any military forces among you who can be retrained to work with the EDF."

"That actually dovetails with what we were going to demand as a starting point," the American president said, leaning forward eagerly. "We do not want to see Russia unilaterally disarmed, but we do demand that the number of people under arms is sharply curtailed."

"I'm sensing collusion here," said the thoughtful Russian dryly, before shrugging. "Let us get down to numbers on that issue then…"

"No," shouted the Georgian slamming his hand down. "We must demand that we discuss reparations first and foremost. If unilateral disarmament is off the table, then you must pay more!"

The back-and-forth continued for much of the day, with food being brought out twice and Harry calling for a recess three times so that everyone could cool down a bit. Despite that, he was only forced to use his magical powers twice to silence people. So Harry was hopeful that they were making some progress.

Over three days of work like this, they finally got to a point where, while no one was happy, everyone had gotten at least some of what they wanted with Harry and the earth defense force coming out ahead in no uncertain terms. The Russians, of course, did have to agree to pay for their crimes. But while money was not going to be changing hands, for the most part, resources most certainly were as well as land.

Specifically, Belorussia was now going to be allowed to go its own way to form its own nations, which had, frankly, been a done deal before the talks had even begun given the fact that the military forces there had signed a separate cease-fire with the allies and then had had bluntly refused to leave the territory of Belorussia. The Russians were actually quite happy about it in a way.

It turned out, that the Belarusians were not exactly the most democratic or humanitarian-minded of governments. Furthermore, the resources Belorussia was home to wasn't much in terms of the rest of Russia, so they could deal with its loss far more easily than the loss of the land down in the Caucuses.

There, the local ethnic demography had to come into play. Local representatives of the people there had to be brought in, something that most of them reacted to quite poorly at least at first until they understood what was being discussed. Azerbaijan and Georgia would be coming out of this with a bit more land and specifically a few more cities, heavy industrial centers, where Georgians and other non-Russians were the majority. In return, they would pay to peacefully deport ethnic Russians that lived there. Since in Karachay-Cherkesia that made up thirty percent of the population and in Karadino-Belkaria twenty-two percent, that was not going to be cheap by any means. This would be made worse by a lot of the major roads into and out of these territories having been wrecked during the recent war. Azerbaijan would have an easier time of it incorporating the Dagestan area, where Russians only made up a little below four percent of the population.

One sticking point in this area was the territory of Chechnya, where there had been a lot of unrest among the local Chechnyan population. The local leaders brought in from there, identified by Sage, Dennis, and the Russian techno-mutant Sputnik was also quite antagonistic to everyone else from the area and nearly started a fight with the Russians. Harry had to replace them twice. It was decided that the area would have to - if it really could look after itself - become an independent nation, possibly with most favored nation status and access to Georgian and Azerbaijani markets. This would help them get on their feet faster, but it was anyone's guess whether or not it would work

This part of the talk actually evolved into an entire sub-discussion and one which would go on for more than a month beyond the rest of the discussion, which Harry had Dennis and Sage watch very closely. As Doom had said, the last thing the world wanted was another hotbed of ethnic-based conflict.

Otherwise, the Russians agreed to pay in material, specifically oil and gas, of which Russia was a major supplier even with those territories annexed, and concrete and wood, as well as building materials and whole fleets of construction machines. Here the secret factories that Russia had begun to build almost as soon as the official Cold War ended would come into their own, for a time. Harry agreed to supply those with the metal they needed so long as his survey teams were allowed access to them and they were turned over to the EDF after the reparations were paid.

Of course, the specifics of how much they would pay was an area where the talks bogged down again.

Greece was the first to object. "No! Russia's reparations need to exceed what my nation paid for this war! Greek nationals died in United Nations colors when Russia's armies rolled across the borders. My nation led in men and material as the war continued. Our national pride demands that since we are not in a position to make any claims on land, that we are paid in cash!"

He had an ulterior motive of course. Greece's economy was on the brink of collapse, rife with corruption and profiteering. The representatives of Greece were their policymakers when it came to foreign relations, but that did not mean that they were exempt from that corruption. The man could easily skim a bit over the top. His greed was practically visible to Harry, let alone Jean, who has always during these discussions was writing his mind along with Emma.

"Your country? Your country barely sent a few thousand men to NATO every year, my nation sends far more! More material and more of the youth of our nation to bleed and die on soil not their own!" Shouted the Georgio, having been relatively silent during this discussion about what land would be turned over or cut out of Russia. He had seemed to understand the necessity of letting most of Russia remain intact and under control of the central government. But now that they were talking about resources and money, he threw his weight into the ring.

The Frenchman looked about at his thoughts as well. His nation had contributed to the NATO forces that had been on the border of Russia before this. And after the conflict had started, France had done a much better job of working with Germany and Poland to send in troops then either Greece or Spain had and had thereby lost more men and more material. With the problems of chopping Russia into smaller more easily managed bits laid out, he had reigned in his imperialism before this, but now that they were talking about money and material, he too wanted to take part in this discussion.

But just as he had opened his mouth in order to add his own words to the shouted discussions going on, one of the large doors into the jungle area near his table opened. He turned, along with many of the others, only to stop and stare gasping as Storm entered.

She was dressed in a dress, rather than her uniform, a light tan colored dress that was open to one side, showing off a bit of thigh but otherwise hiding her legs from view, rising up and hugging her waist. From there the tan of the dress changed around her torso into a multi-colored area of small flashes of green, yellow and blue scales. This pattern reached the bottom of her chest where the dress's style changed back to tan, rising and hiding her chest from view entirely while also being tight, ending in a tight neckline but leaving her shoulders bare. In her hair, she had a simple tiara while she wore the special Panja ring on her hand, it's silver and gold standing out starkly against her black skin, the two blue diamonds on the ring and bracelet shimmering with an inner fire.

Yet it wasn't her beauty that caused the voices of all of the delegates to peter out. No, that was down to her presence and her presence, the aura of majesty and kindness that she exuded so easily. They began to murmur as she walked forward, staring at her, feeling the weight of her arrival, of her eyes on them. Of all of the mutants that Harry had gathered to him, Storm was easily the most recognized and even with the Phoenix added in was the most respected. Not just respect for her power, but for her presence, for the things she did and how she acted in public.

As she walked, the murmurings began. Some of them stood up and bowed towards her, thanking her as a goddess of healing. Others simply nodded, knowing that they had the weather witch to thank for their not being any long-lasting effects of the aliens' winter magic. Others seemed to almost be overcome by her sheer or of majesty, bowing their heads. The Moroccan even went so far as to call her a Queen to Harry's Emerald eyed king in a low tone.

The Black Panther simply nodded at that, staring at her. Feeling his emotions broadcasting so strongly they could pick them up from where they were elsewhere on High Note, Emma and Jean broke out of their own momentary surprise at Storm's presence to look at one another. "We need to hook that man up with someone else, his infatuation with Ororo is not going to do him or us any favors long run."

"Playing matchmaker is not my idea of fun, but I think you're right. He's not let go of that infatuation of his with Ororo. I don't think we want to face an issue like the one the Fantastic Four does with Namor and Susan, do we?" Emma replied.

Unaware of that conversation happening elsewhere, Storm stopped halfway through the jungle, looking around at the delegates shaking her head at their veneration of her. "Queen, Wind Walker, Weather Witch, Goddess of Healing? Those are too many names for one who, at bottom, merely wishes to help those around her and be an example for those who follow after. I am merely Storm, please."

Those words somehow humbled every man and the few women there and they looked away one after another. Harry didn't, he hadn't taken his eyes off her person from the moment she'd entered the room, and feeling the emotions through their link, Jean actually shuddered, leaning back and sighing as she simply basked in the love she felt from Harry to Storm, knowing he felt the same for all of them. Emma had to pinch her quite hard to get her to concentrate on what was going on again.

By that time, Harry had held out his hands to Storm, taking her hands in his and kissing them gently, first one palm then the other, then slowly turning her hand her ring hand around and kissing the blue diamond there, staring into her eyes. "Good afternoon my lady," he said in a whisper, his heart in his eyes, those eyes saying much more than he would ever be comfortable with out in public. "I'm sorry, I would've invited you to this, but I thought you would be busy down in the hospital."

"I was, but unlike you Harry I know the word moderation," Ororo replied drolly, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, before taking a place beside him, looking around them as she did. "Moderation ladies and gentlemen is why I am here. I do not want to burn myself out healing the crippled soldiers and civilians that have been sent to us from around the world. And it is a concept that we all need to be aware of going forward. This issue with Russia is far too big, far too complex for simple demands of 'we want more' to hold any weight. We must all in good conscience agree to compromise here, otherwise what is the point of actually discussing it in the first place? No demands, no outright refusals, we are interested in agreements, nothing more, nothing less."

For a moment the room was silent, then one of the delegates, an Italian man who had been one of the ones pushing for the entire dissolution of Russia at first, but who had not spoken up since asked hesitantly. "And judging by the fact you have shifted your attention to using your magic to heal our wounded, can we assume that there will be no more environmental troubles?

"You may. Certain areas will receive more wearing rainfall, a little colder, a little more heat and suchlike, but nothing truly disastrous. It was insanely difficult, like an ever-evolving puzzle, where the instant you finish one puzzle, you realize it is simply a piece to a larger one and have to keep that puzzle intact while also turning your attention to the larger aspect," Storm said, shaking her head. "It was the most incredibly mind-numbingly difficult work I've ever done, but it is finished now."

Margaret Thatcher was no real believer in the Pro-mutant agenda. Oh, she knew they existed, but she had what she thought was a normal person's fear of those who were more powerful than her. She had seen enforcing the idea of mutant rights under the law as simply making certain the government stayed in control of the situation.

Now she had to hold back a shiver at the idea of the power that Storm was talking about and send a quick prayer to the Almighty that Storm and Harry Potter were on the side of the good guys. If they had decided that violent revolt was the way forward like that madman Magneto, or even that fellow down in Genosha, I don't know if the world could have survived.

That was a thought that was going through many minds, as they looked at Harry, Storm and next to them, Dr. Doom and Paris Lourdes, who also represented power and who, many of them now noted in the case of the woman, was actually taking notes and had a small recording device in front of her.

More then one of them looked a little angered at that but realized that if the news mogul had that device in front of her now, it meant that she had permission to and frankly, she wasn't a naïve newspaper reporter, she was a business entrepreneur, who knew both politics and the vagaries of public opinion. She wouldn't print or share anything that would cause these talks to derail after the fact. Still, many of the delegates there thought it best to watch their words from now on.

Seeing that everyone had suddenly become much more thoughtful and considerate, the chief Russian leaned forward, smiling slightly as he tapped his chin. "We were talking about remuneration but in the materials and monies. Unfortunately, my nation will be strapped for actual cash for quite some time. I'm certain that none of us want to deal with the economic down that would occur worldwide if the Russian economy suddenly began to tank for lack of governmental funds…"

From that point on the bespectacled Duma representative quickly proved to not only be the most levelheaded of the Russians but to also be the most dangerous one when it came to negotiations. His name was Kirov and he had a grasp of the Russian economy, it's internal workings, weaknesses, strengths, and depth including the underground factories and railways, that none of the others could match. He showed this now and then as the conversation continued winding back to one of America's demands, that of demilitarization.

"We've been talking around this topic long enough, I think it's time to take the bull by the horns," said the American president, leaning forward, stapling his hands and placing his chin on them as he stared around at the other tables. "I think we can all agree on the Allied side that we are not willing to allow Russia to keep its current military strength. Not even after its losses so far in this war. Yet at the same time, I fully recognize that a full demilitarization is just not workable. Even with Harry offering to hire anyone you lay off your armies," he added dryly, looking over towards Harry.

"Indeed, I am sensing quite a bit of collusion there and ulterior motives as well. Could it be that you are having trouble meeting your recruitment needs?" Kirov asked shrewdly as he looked at Harry.

"Thanks to China and South America, we're not actually in that bad a place for raw recruits. But that's just the point, they're raw. Most of them need to be retrained to act in the Navy, rather than an army, two different things, even if both of them salute the same," Harry replied promptly. "And at the moment, we have a lot of trained naval personnel from America and the United Kingdom that we're going to be training on the Verdun class defense platforms and the Raven-class space superiority starfighters. If we can use the Chinese and the Russians and the South Americans to take over at least the running of the Raven stations when they come online, as well as a few of the defense platforms, that will free up more men to run our fleet." He smiled then truly. "So yes, I do have an ulterior motive, but only the best ulterior motives."

"We need to also look at it from another perspective," Margaret Thatcher said, staring hard at Kirov. "Not only do we need to limit your military as it is, but we need to limit your military funding into the future."

"We are willing to agree to a curtailment of military funding and our military size back to the level it was 2 ½ years ago," Kirov said bluntly. "That is when the Dire Wraiths and their quislings began to truly push their agenda. That is a hard limit ladies and gentlemen, there is no chance I could sell anything beyond that to my fellow Duma members. Russia will be severely weakened by this war; we all know and acknowledge that at this point. But there is a difference between that and letting you take the means with which we could defend ourselves."

For a moment the room fell silent as the representatives looked up the numbers they were talking about, using High Note's connection to the world Internet to do so. Harry didn't bother though, he just looked at the man quizzically. "Defend yourself against who? More aliens? Your people would do a better job defending all of the earth under the Earth Defense Force than attempting something on your own. And before you say anything, any rumor you might have heard about me making separate deals on this topic with the Americans is extremely limited in scope. Yes, they have the means to defend themselves, if by defend themselves you mean actually firing back at the attackers. If you mean defending themselves as able to protect their citizens, that is a no."

"As much as I do not like the confrontational manner in which he spoke, I have to say that Harry is correct," Storm said, shaking her head at his undiplomatic way of speaking. Even the president was wincing a little, but he wasn't discounting what Harry had said. "The best way to defend the planet from space is to keep the enemy's ships from making orbit. If they can do that in enough numbers, any defense you can raise on the planet is doomed to failure. He who controls the orbitals controls the world. And at the moment, none of you can get anything into orbit nearly as easily as Harry can."

"There are internal threats as well," Kirov said without missing a beat. "And furthermore, the importance of our army in relation to both the defense of the nation and to our society cannot be understated. You Americans have your gun and your Fifth Amendment. We have our army and its history of defending the motherland. They are equal in our eyes."

This wasn't the winning argument he thought it might be, because Northton actually wasn't all that in favor of the belief in the proliferation of gun ownership being a natural sign of the ability to defend oneself that was prevalent in America. But he knew that was a fight he wouldn't win, so did not even try to fight it in the first place. In this day and age, there were just more important things to worry about. The problem was that he didn't know enough about Russia to understand if Kirov was telling the truth about how important the military was to their sense of national identity. But looking over the numbers and the gross size estimation of the Russian army from 2 ½ years ago, he knew that an army that size could still be a significant threat in the region, if not to world peace.

King William leaned forward, speaking up for the first time after he, Doom and Harry had gotten everyone to really start to realize that they needed to actually talk rather than simply shout propaganda speeches at one another. "Once more, we come back to the idea of compromise. You say that the national identity of Russia is tied up in their armies. Given the history of Russia, I can understand that concern. However, you must, in turn, understand that the numbers we are looking at here even for your target limit are just not small enough. So let us get down to actual numbers and type. At the beginning of this war, Russian submarines and Russian silos along with NATO silos were launched in an aggressive manner against one another. The Phoenix stopped us from committing that gross mistake. Now that the war is over, I believe that we can remove the means from which that mistake can occur again."

Kirov stiffened, knowing where he was going with that, but he couldn't object as William went on inexorably. "I propose an oversight of any and all nuclear sites and any new armament projects by an inspection team to be chosen by the United Nations. Furthermore, I propose that Russia pledge not to build further submarines, or indeed anything larger than a destroyer, to not rebuild its Navy or strength. And once more that we will be allowed to insert oversight investigators to make certain that that is the case."

"That combined with a demand that you move all of your remaining Air Force assets into a more centralized location away from any launch points that could be used to hit targets further away than your own borders will be enough for us to agree that you may keep your Army and Air Force at that level of strength. That you can, in fact, build your Army to that point, considering the fact that from our estimates, you are actually lower than that at this moment." The German representative said sternly. He, above all of the others, had been completely unmanned by the comment about not wanting to make a second Germany earlier by making their fiscal demands too high.

But now he came on hard, driving the discussion on this moment for a time, with William and Margaret Thatcher and the president all combining with him. Kirov refused to be browbeaten however and with General Borisov fought back doggedly, especially when they got down to the nuts and bolts of where the Air Force bases could be allowed and the idea of unilateral nuclear disarmament. Again there was just no way he could sell that to the rest of the Duma, which was really the only working aspect of the Russian government this point and that barely.

The conversation began to gain more heat, but Storm's cool voice cut across the growing argument like a blast of freezing water on a lava flow. "I believe that we are missing one reason why Russian found themselves manipulated by the Dire Wraiths and their quislings." She paused then as every eye turned to her. "That is a good term to use here given its historical significance. But one of the reasons why the Dire Wraiths gained power, was because of Russia's news and information networks are barely freer now than they were under the communists. There is not a single large-scale, intranational news agency that is not run by the state, and no foreign news agency has had the ability to act within your country openly."

The oldest member of the Russians started to curse under his breath and was about to stand up and pound his hand down onto the table, but General Barisov grabbed his arm and held him still, while Ororo continued inexorably. "Even China, gentlemen, has a slightly freer press than Russia does at this point in time, or at least access to the internet. Some of that can be laid at the feet of the Dire Wraiths and their puppets, but not all of it. The state control of the press and the public information must end," she said coldly. "If it does not, the people of Russia can still be far too easily controlled by a small, dangerous minority looking out for its own self-interest rather than the interests of the state."

Paris smiled, looking over at Dr. Doom with a quirk of her lips indicating that Ororo had just helped her score some kind of point in an argument between them. In response, Doom sighed but nodded his metal-clad head towards her very slightly. He then said aloud, "It says something that one such as I, who rules as a tyrant - a benevolent one, but still a tyrant I know myself, after all - allows more freedom of the press than a supposedly free government. I too believe that this is an important step to take."

"In return for that," Harry said, seizing the initiative, "I believe that Earth Defense Force will not only open our doors on the medical side of things, but we will be willing to oversee the relocation of Russian civilians from the territories that are going to be allowed to claim their freedom or will be annexed by your neighbors. That will save you a lot of money, time and effort. We will also not join in efforts to enforce a smaller military limit on you."

This neatly cut the legs out from under those who wanted to push for Russian to have a small army and the German delegate argued against it hotly. "You are talking about using some kind of soft limitation on any future expansionist regimes that might come to power in Russia, what if that doesn't work? No, I'm afraid that my government must demand a sharp curtailing of the Russian military forces, far sharper than your arbitrary decision of pairing it back by only 2 ½ years. Specifically, we want a cessation on any military development programs."

"While I agree that the military development programs need to have some oversight, I stand by my words earlier," Harry said firmly. "With oversight teams in place, up until we, the allies, believe that freedom of the press and the press's complete separation from the state has sunk in rather than some foolishly hard date, I believe that we can stop any such regime from taking power in the first place, let alone from being in a position to become a danger to the rest of the world."

Italy, France, Spain, Germany protested this, but Harry was firm and eventually, they subsided. All of them knew that without the help of the World Guard, America, and the United Kingdom, who were silent on this point, they would have had a much worse time fighting Russia.

But finally, all the deals were done, everything was accomplished, and they had signed their names to an agreement to finalize the peace treaty that the neutrals could declare as being fair and honest to everyone, punishing Russia, but without grinding them into the dirt. The nonaggression status would stay in place for a few more weeks as lawyers and bureaucrats went to work on the full wording of all the agreements, which Sage would look over for him. But Harry's part of the process was finished, and the war would never again break out into open conflict. That was enough for Harry.

OOOOOOO

Entering the master bedroom in High Note, Harry sighed in relief flopping onto the bed, before he propped himself up with his elbows to look at his ladies as they followed him in. "Well," he said jubilantly, "I think that the actual politicians can now be trusted to get things right without creating further problems in the future."

"Perhaps so, though I would never bet against the stupidity of humanity when it comes to creating new problems for itself," Hela quipped, looking over at Ororo as she went on. "But your entrance the other day was magnificent my dear, it took the wind out of the protestors' sails most agreeably."

Ororo nodded her head in acknowledgment of the compliment, while Harry fell silent for a second looking at them. Taking in the ladies one after another, Harry could only smile in somewhat bemused wonder even now unable to believe his luck, staring at them one after another. "God, you're all so beautiful. How the hell did I get so lucky as to have even one of you let alone all of you in my life?"

"Let's see," Jean drawled, moving towards him slowly as her condition warranted, sitting next to Harry and gently pulling off his jacket then undoing his tie as she continued to speak. "You helped me realize that there was a super-sentient being trapped within my mind, thereby allowing me to bond with it and not go crazy in the doing. Is it any wonder I fell for you?" she finished tenderly.

"You helped me get in touch with my emotions, in a way that I had despaired of ever doing without causing the weather around me to mirror them," Ororo said. She did not sit next to Harry, but in front of him on the floor in a position that looked almost submissive were such a thing not patently impossible to consider with a woman like Ororo Munroe. She then began to lift his feet up and his shoes off, then his socks, winking up at him. "And after that, well, falling for you was almost too easy."

"You helped me against my father, were a sounding board for certain ideas about how to deal with him and my older sister, and let's not forget less impersonal things like how you've made the lives of mutants throughout the world far, far better than they would otherwise have been," Emma said. She then followed Jean's example, helping to peal Harry out of his shirt, running her hands up his bare skin as she did.

"You've seen off several attacks on earth by various aliens and before you say it Harry no, no one on Earth would not have done it without you creating the Earth Defense Force first," Jean interjected in a similar vein. "And almost as an aside to all that you helped me achieve my dream of going into space, of seeing other planets."

"And you helped me see the trap the shadows had engulfing both myself and the rest of the Asgardians. You have given me my freedom for the first time in hundreds of years when I did not even realize I was chained," Hela said returning the conversation to the personal as Jean had. "You are a Jarl worthy of respect, who has led his people to such victories that even lord Odin would be proud to boast of them. I have said this before, but I find myself having to say it again: humility does not become you, Harry Potter. Stop it."

"True and I'm not exactly humble about my accomplishments, it's just the whole winning your love thing that tends to throw me on occasion. Excuse me if I've not got the ego to just overlook that," Harry said with an eye-roll gesturing to all four of them with his free hand before Emma captured it and his arm, pulling him back against the bed's headrest even as he continued to speak to them all, amused by the manhandling. "Can you honestly blame me? I'm only one mortal man after all and each of you is just so gorgeous, inside and out. A single man winning all of your love, now that is an accomplishment that will never cease to be a wonder."

"A mortal man perhaps, but one who has more than once turned down a divinity," Hela said sternly shaking her head. "You could have ascended when you drained the Dire Wraiths, my Seidr Man. Again. Why didn't you?" she looked away, her body language turning almost vulnerable for a moment even if half her face was, even here, hidden by her half mask as always. "Does becoming a god seem so horrible to you that you would turn away from it without a second thought?"

"Being a god like you and your fellow Aesir, no. But that, alas, isn't an option for me," Harry said dryly, looking over at Ororo. "You didn't tell her about our discussion with Lady Gaea?"

"I did not," Ororo said shaking her head. "It seemed to me that those revelations would have been better to come from you."

Harry nodded and described the discussion he and Ororo had with Lady Gaea on their flight from down to Genosha, during which Hela's eyes widened behind her ubiquitous half mask. She was silent throughout, digesting the tale, working through all the implications. When they finished, she nodded thoughtfully. "That is, that is telling. But yet by her speech, Lady Gaea told you that there were other means to retain the power you take in such a manner and not ascend. Even I have heard of Galactus the World Eater. Then there is that creature that you fought, the Mad Titan, Thanos. I have even heard tell that there is some kind of race whose power is based upon belief in oneself or some such prattle. Perhaps their blood might hold a clue as to become as strong as you can be without losing your essential humanity."

The fact she was happy now he had made the choice he did was plain in her body language, the faint, but the warm smile of approval she gave him as she learned what he would give up. While she would never come out and say it, not until after they wed at least, but part of what attracted Hela so much to Harry was his very humanity: his emotions, his love, his innate goodness and his sense of humor, so like yet so unlike her own which she had inherited from the original Trickster, her father.

"How would that even work?" Harry asked quizzically, smiling back at her but also grabbing on the last comment in confusion.

"I know not, it was but a rumor I'd heard once, from my brother Fenrir who had it from when Tyr had befriended him before he grew too large. Tyr talked about an adventure that the Warriors Three and Thor had at one point, during their travels away from Asgard." Hela shrugged, turning the conversation back to the more important topic. "In any event, it's something to search into."

"Perhaps in the future," Harry said with a sigh. "Right now, I've got more than enough power to do what I need, it's just bringing it to bear that's the issue. In any event, how are you all doing?" he asked, looking around at them all. "And I will say it now, we all, us and the teams, are on vacation now. I want us all to have at least a week, maybe more to rest and recuperate. But anything, in particular, you need or want to do or help you need, you will have, I swear it."

Jean sighed, shaking her head and actually volunteering to go first this time rather than being forced to by the others in some kind of communication that Harry, as a man, could not follow. "Physically I'm about as well as someone in my condition could be. Apparently, pregnancy really agrees with me. Go figure," she said lovingly patting her stomach yet at the same time almost glaring at her hand as it glowed red. "I'm certain that the Phoenix has a hand in that and I'm not certain how I feel about that."

"Mentally… I'm tired, annoyed, cranky and more thankful than ever that I am linked to your mind, Harry. That connection's been worth my weight in gold. It kept me sane even in the worst moments of this war. But I've decided I can't use my telekinetic powers for anything more than say lifting a can of soda at this point. My control is completely out of whack. Still, the twins are coming along fine." She patted her stomach a second time. "Actually, I think that they knew that their mommy was having a tough time and had laid off their game of soccer to give me what relief they could."

"Football love, please, after all, that was its original name and not all of us are like you foolish Americans who need to rename everything," Harry quipped, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently against his side. That was next to nothing to the emotions Jean was getting through their link and she sniffled lightly, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"For my part, I am somewhat burnt out Harry," Ororo said with a sigh. "The repair and recovery efforts lady Gaea and I have been busy with our now finished for my part. She is still dealing with some microbiological issues, especially ocean life, but she is hopeful that it will eventually restore itself. But between helping her and my own work in the hospital over the past few weeks I am, as you and Jean, most desperately in need of a vacation. As long as it involves us all together, whatever we decide to do will get no argument from me."

Harry nodded at that, then looked over to Hela who sat back in her own chair, sipping from a wine goblet. She had decided she would make it an objective of her time in Midgard to try out every wine the planet offered and this one, a Claret, was particularly tasty. "In many ways, I had the easiest time of all of you. I will not say that it was surprising to find so many souls that looked towards my faith passing on during the fighting, but such is my duty to sift through. It was not altogether difficult. Indeed, taking part with Emma in the ongoing political work was much harder."

"Emma?" Harry asked while pulling her up as she tried to pull off his pants. Harry didn't know why she started to do that since he could just banish them himself which he did promptly, before pulling her into a sideways hug and letting her retreat to a chair next to Hela.

"Physically I am probably the best off of all of us at this point thanks to a few days rest from my battle with Madelyn. But… there were times when I was pressed sorely during that contest, both before and after Charles threw himself into the contest." The blonde looked oddly vulnerable as she admitted that and Harry instantly pulled her into a hug, knowing that Emma still had issues at times admitting weakness.

"It wasn't all fun and games and then afterward, seeing the clone of Jean and the rest of what Sinister had done, the cloning… that, that shook me. It was, I-I value my uniqueness, my sense of personal identity and being as a singular individual. And seeing a clone of someone I love as I do you, Jean, of having fought for the minds and sanity of an army against her, that was, it was a revelation and not a good one." Emma said.

She fell silent as Jean leaned over Harry to take her hand, wordlessly offering encouragement even as she gave Emma a look that said 'see it from my perspective why don't you.' Emma eventually smirked at that, pulling back from the hug to wink at Jean before addressing Harry once more. "But I am good to go physically and mentally unlike the rest of you and honestly, I found this bit of politicking rather invigorating, almost as good as making a business deal."

As Jean groaned and Hela scoffed at the very idea, Harry looked at Emma then down at Jean's stomach "Speaking of, how goes the plans for the wedding? Or should that be weddings, considering that Jean's is going to be right on the heels of mine and Emma's."

"Oh, the wedding," Jean smirked at him, as did Emma and Ororo, causing Harry to actually shrink back against the headboard for a moment. "The wedding, that thing that's happening next weekend? That wedding?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "That soon?"

"That late," said every woman there, although Emma looked a little disgruntled as she did.

In reply Harry quickly held up his hands in surrender and moved to make amends. "My apologies, I meant that soon in terms of the time of the wedding to the current moment, no more no less. It simply snuck up on me, that's all. If I gave any other indication I deeply apologize."

"That's because you're smarter than the average male," Hela quipped as Jean nodded, accepting Harry's words. "But yes, Emma's is going to occur on the twenty-eighth of November. Jean's is set for the 31st of December, as you should know."

"Just don't tell me that the theme is green and white is all I ask," Harry said with a laugh gesturing to his eyes and then to Emma's dress which as always was white. "While Emma, of course, looks amazing in white, as she does in anything else, I do not look good in green except in very small quantities."

Jean laughed. "No, none of that. For the boys, it'll be a dark blue, for the womenfolk, white of course."

"And I have to say, that the house-elves have proven to be a godsend," Emma said. She and Ororo had taken the lead on organizing the wedding, only getting Jean's input on things like colors and her own dress months back before her pregnancy was so far along. "They've created much of the furniture and such like and will be handling the food too. They even helped us get the dresses in such a perfect fit for all of us that it's amazing."

"Even you?" Harry asked, looking over at Hela. As far as he knew, Hela hadn't been offered a position as one of Emma's maids of honor and he was wondering if he had missed that somewhere. He knew she was going to be involved in Jean and Ororo's as chief maid of honor, or whatever the equivalent of best man was for Jean, who would take up that position for Emma and Ororo both.

"Indeed, even I," Hela replied, nodding to indicate that yes, Harry had missed that conversation. "We even have Melody and Illyana ready to act as the, what was the term, flower girls? An amusing custom that, and I approve of getting children who will be affected by this merging of two lives involved."

"And I, of course, will be in white as well, even if I am the one performing the ceremony," Ororo said with a laugh. "You did remember that part of the plan, at least?"

"Okay, so the wedding's on and will happen right in the middle of my proposed week plus off. Excellent," Harry said, deliberately not answering Ororo's question, which made the four ladies laugh.

As she finished laughing, Emma almost ordered. "Yes, yes, my wedding is all planned out, wonderful, whatever. More importantly at the moment, our vacations begin now, correct?"

When Harry nodded she smiled a positively sinful smile. "Good. In that case, let's start off with a bang. If I leave this bed without walking bowlegged and fucking dripping, Harry Potter, I am going to be very angry!" she finished, her tone and eyes intense as she sat on the bed, leaning over Harry to kiss him hard, her tongue out and demanding entrance to his mouth almost instantly as their lips made contact.

"In that case, I will excuse myself now. When Emma of all people throws propriety away, it can be likened to a hammer to the side of the head in terms of hints as to what is about to occur," Hela replied dryly, finishing her cup of wine and sending it down delicately, standing up and looking down at them.

At those words Emma pulled back, actually flipping herself to the side to face Hela as Jean leaned in for a hug and kiss of her own. "Are you sure you have to go?" She'd opened up to the other woman even before the issue with Russia and the Dire Wraiths had started, but the way the two of them had been forced to work together during that war's aftermath had solidified their friendship.

"The waiting merely adds to the delight," Hela said with a chuckle, shaking her head. "And the first time I sleep in a bed with Harry Potter, I will demand that I do so alone. No offense to any of you but I believe that a woman should have the right to have her marriage bed to herself and her chosen at least for her first night there, regardless of the polyamory of our relationship."

Gently pulling away from Jean's hug, Harry stood up and moved forward, pulling Hela into a hug before she could back away. Then he was kissing her, before moving down the side of her face to her throat and bare shoulder, nipping her here and there. But he didn't go further, indeed his hands didn't even rove from her sides. Harry respected her decision, while at the same time making it blatantly clear that she was desired.

This got worse when Ororo moved up behind her and pushed her hair to one side. Hela had just worked up the willpower to push Harry away when Ororo nipped at the back of her neck, causing her to yelp then quiver in their arms.

"Oh my," Jean said with a laugh. "I think you just found a sweet spot, Ororo."

"Indeed, reconnoitering in force like that before the actual 'clash' is always a good idea," Emma said with a throaty laugh, staring at the standing trio with desire clear in her aristocratic face.

"You two are going to be the death of me," Hela said, finally freeing herself from her two will-be-lovers hugs, shaking an admonishing finger at them both. Yet, even so, she could not keep the smile off her face, nor the desire from her own violet eyes behind her mask.

"Would you like me to sing the praises of your skin, my dear, the finest silk having nothing upon it?" Harry asked in a whisper, leaning in close so his breath could be felt on Hela's neck and chin. "Or your hair, like a black waterfall as it cascades down your back, so fine to the touch it makes my fingers never wish to leave off feeling it?"

All three of the other women stared at him as Hela's eyes widened behind her half-mask. She coughed, a rosy blush appearing on the portion of her cheeks visible under the mask as she looked away. "You, you've been practicing your flirtations I see."

Harry chuckled, then looked around at the others, before leaning over the bed and putting his lips next to Emma's ears. What he whispered was unheard by the others, but the way her thighs clamped together, or the fact that her breathing became heavier was very noticeable.

Then he laughed, turning to sit down on the bed, reaching over to Ororo and pulling her on top of his lap, kissing her ardently on the lips. The Weather Witch moaned, twining her hands in his hair before pulling back slightly and whispering, "What, no sweet nothings for me?"

"With you, my love, I felt that actions would speak louder than words," Harry said slyly.

She laughed at that, then moaned as Harry's hands slowly started down her back, making her shirt disappear with an instant, showing that she had not bothered to wear a bra today. This allowed Harry's hands-free rein along her bare skin and they were enjoying every minute of it.

"And that truly is my cue to leave." Hela laughed, before waving her hands of the others and exiting the room quickly, but there was a bounce to her steps and gleam in her eyes as she did. That had been fun, and she was looking forward to her wedding night all the more now. Soon Emma will be done, then Jean, then Ororo and then I will have my turn. "I will see you all tomorrow. In the afternoon I feel, or perhaps late evening. Whenever dehydration and hunger drive you out of bed. Until then, have fun."

As Emma moved to start to kiss Ororo's side, reaching around to take one milk chocolate-colored breast in her hand - a sight that Jean found intensely erotic - Jean sighed, staring down and patting her stomach. "Don't mind any feelings of jealousy you're sensing from mommy right now children. Mommy loves you whatever she's feeling right now, even if you are boob blocking meEEE!" She eepped then, as she felt someone nibble at her ear.

She looked up to find that Ororo had switched places with Emma on the other side of the bed and was now looking into her eyes wickedly. To one side, Harry was making out with Emma with a fervor that was so passionate it made Jean quiver, while the look in Ororo's eyes took her breath away, making her body thrum with a sudden need. "Don't think that just because you're pregnant that means you can't have fun. Allow me to prove it," she whispered, before leaning in to kiss Jean lightly on the lips, then moving lower.

After that, the lovers did their best to fulfill Emma's demand and did so in a spectacular fashion.

OOOOOOO

Elsewhere, deep in the desert of Egypt, the world's first mutant woke up to stare at an unknown face, yet a face whose fingers had just flashed through the correct callsign of the Akkaba clan. This mutant's name was Apocalypse. It was not a name that he had first given himself, but it was one which, upon earning it, the man who had been En Sabah Nur had decided to wear with pride. He had earned it many times in the millennia since his birth, in the era before the First Pharaohs. And now, he was struggling once more to waken his mind and body from his slumber. "You know my policy," he said slowly, "I was not to be awoken unless it was time for the great test, for the war between mutants and humans I had long envisioned. Is it that time or are your lives forfeit?"

"Yes, master it is," said a voice from the shadows, behind the two clan Akkaba members. "But perhaps not for the reasons we might have wished."

One was an African man, dressed in something similar to how a traditional man of Wakanda would, but in this place, the silver and black colors of that nation had been replaced by red and grey. His bald head shone in the light of the sepulcher, his small hat in his hand. The other was a large white man who looked almost but not quite obese, but who moved with speed belying his bulk. He was dressed in a costume that looked positively Victorian despite the heat outside the pyramid that Apocalypse's resting place resided in.

Both had the telltale signs of Clan Akkaba and were mutants of some power to have survived to get here. But at the moment, they did not matter. No, Apocalypse only had attention for the one who's voice came from the shadows.

"Abyss," Apocalypse said, his voice stronger and more aware than it had been a bare second ago. "Your words intrigue me, and your presence here shows that you are still among the strong and therefore you will survive. For now." Apocalypse stood and as he did his form changed.

In his sarcophagi, Apocalypse had seemed a mummy, thin, emaciated, his ribs showing his skin barely hanging on his skin. But as his guests watched, he began to change, to shift and grow. His legs pulsed out almost, growing into strong powerful legs encased in some kind of blue formfitting bodysuit. The rest of his body followed as panels opened up to either side of the sarcophagus, robotic arms extending, holding in their grips armor for his arms and body.

When they finished Apocalypse stood there. His head was bare, bullet-shaped almost, his mouth wide and marked by equally wide lips, a tattoo of some kind going up either side of his face. His shoulders were broad, powerful, framed by red armor and a cloak on his back. Red material covered his massive hands in gloves, matching his boots, elbow, and knees, as well as his waist. The rest was covered with form-fitting blue armor of some kind that barely contained the muscles within. His eyes were nearly red, deep-set and cold as he looked into the darkness beyond the two clan members. "Abyss."

The word hissed out like a command and out from the shadows came to a formless shape which slowly resolved itself into a thin man, wearing a form-fitting black, purple and golden suit, his body and hands looking like strands of darkness given form. "My liege. There has been a complication. One that came from beyond. But it has proven to not be alone. The alien has been active on Earth my liege, and because of that, the war of survival of the fittest…might not occur without your beginning it."

Apocalypse raised a nonexistent eyebrow, then turned his attention to the two clan members. They had not even flinched at his transformation, which was a good indicator of their own worthiness, nodding grimly. "Show me."

The two of them held out several CDs, which he took and inserted into a nearby wall, fitting them into what had looked like the mouths of a few motifs drawn on the wall. "Video screens."

At his word, an entire wall of the room shifted to multiple video screens. The computer running everything also seemed to have enough intelligence to then route each image or video to a different video screen.

For more than an hour, Apocalypse watched, listened to each newsreel, to each report as the two Akkaba clansmen and Abyss filled him in on what had been occurring. As they did, he cogitated, taking in everything they said with a frown on his face.

Apocalypse believed in two things above all else. First, he believed in survival of the fittest, that the constant struggle to evolve, to survive not just on a societal but also on an evolutionary level, was the only true test of strength, the only real way to prove your worth, to survive. And second, he hated the alien. He hated the idea of any other race coming to Earth and trying to claim what could only be humanity's own.

So to say he was torn about what he was watching and hearing was an understatement. This Harry Potter's aggressive policy of coexistence is folly. Human nature will beget hatred, hatred of those different, hatreds of those from different nationalities and above all, hatred of those who are genetically superior. It will not last. Yet he has done something else I would not have thought possible: used the threat of an exterior enemy to unite humanity. That is impressive and so long as an exterior threat exists, those worthy of survival will work together against them.

"How many alien races have made their presence known?" he asked. Apocalypse knew of at least four, perhaps as many as five depending on how you viewed the Externals.

"The Kree, the Skrull at first. A race called the Dire Wraiths in this latest war, where they somehow infiltrated humanity without Russia or anyone else knowing in what numbers they did so. There was also another space-based assault by a group of lizard-like aliens who are, according to Kree Prisoners the Magic-wielding anomaly took, called the Badoon," Abyss replied. "There have also been sightings of a so-called Titan, who we had no previous understanding of and several sightings of so-called Asgardians, who clan Akkaba had records of from centuries previous."

Hmm, Abyss's Death persona seems to be holding. Good. While his enthusiastic and rather bloodthirsty original personality was useful it was also rather irritating to deal with. Still, that momentary sense of accomplishment was wiped aside as Apocalypse turned to the recordings, concentrating on the first time Harry Potter came out as himself beyond the Guardian persona. "The Negative Zone…" he mused. He knew of the negative zone, a sort of garbage bin as it were for junk caught between dimensions. That was troubling, as it meant attempting to go back and remove Potter via the use of his time travel device would be incredibly hard. And his strength is also… impressive, both physically and magically.

Further, I cannot say his removal would, in turn, remove the exterior threats. Not all of them at any rate. That was irritating. It would force Apocalypse to remove them or provide technology to some so-called heroes to do the work for him. That irritated him immensely.

But not as irritating as contemplating Potter's list of victories, both assumed and known. Mr. Sinister, the geneticist creature that Apocalypse had twisted to his own designs for all that Sinister himself might've thought differently, was dead. Magneto, whose ability according to his spies was control of one of the most basic powers in the universe, magnetism, was dead. Such a champion he would have been for the survival of the fittest, Apocalypsemused to himself, leaning back. Alien incursions beaten back, one after another. A defense fleet stolen from the Kree and slowly being rebuilt. Mars made into a Fortress.

It was enough to give even Apocalypse pause. And yet, I could prove my own superiority, my own right to survive in no uncertain terms by defeating him. That would be… pleasing. And taking over his efforts from within would put me in a position to wipe out non-powered humanity.

"Leave me," he said. "I must ponder this."

As Abyss and the others left, Apocalypse returned his attention to the reports, then looked over the notes the clan had made on what they knew of their own, admittedly second-hand attempts or the attempts of other groups to infiltrate Potter's various groups. This wasn't a lot of information obviously, but considering the timeline Apocalypse was able to put together, it looked as if Harry had some magic that could warn him if someone working for him was untrustworthy. There were a few ways around that perhaps, but they were chancy, at best

He turned to a seeming statue set against one wall. "What say you of this, Ozymandias?"

The stone statue opened its eyes and stared at him. "You asked me what I think when you well know the answer," he said angrily. "Magic has proven its worth again over science! And you well know that magic is a weakness you have never truly overcome. Or do I need to remind you of the trouble you had killing that upstart bloodsucker once he learned magic? And to compare that pathetic creature to this Potter is to compare night and day. The strength of an Asgardian, the magic knowledge of a Sorcerer Supreme, with more actual power than any such I know of. You are overmatched, oh mighty Apocalypse."

"I would rather say that magic has evened the playing field between the power of mutants and those humans," Apocalypse replied, unmoved by his unwilling advisor's vitriol. This was why Apocalypse had sent Abyss and the two clansmen away. He trusted very few, believing that wholly trusting someone was a sign of weakness. And besides, only Ozymandias, who was one of the reasons why he believed as he did, was worthy of giving Apocalypse advice or listening to his words when he was thinking aloud.

Because Ozymandias could not betray him. Indeed, if he tried, Ozymandias would die, and he knew it. And after so long as an immortal, there was nothing that the frightened Ozymandias more than taking the eternal sleep.

"And you know as well as I that I have prepared for millennia to face not only regular humans but magic as well. And thanks to this ship, I have become able to do so," he finished with a small, thin smile.

"But it would not have worked without the clear and present threat of alien existence," Ozymandias shot back. "So by your mandate, humanity as a whole has proven their worth by banding together against that threat. If they were so nihilistic as to not do so, all of humanity would have proven that they were not worth surviving."

"Perhaps," Apocalypse said, frowning as Ozymandias repeated his own earlier thoughts back to him. "And yet, it is proof that humanity is also weak. That they had to band together, rather than standing separately."

"Does that matter?" Ozymandias asked, becoming tired of this circular thinking. "After all, how could they have stood up to the aliens with the present technology? Or even the magic of the Sorcerer Supreme? Perhaps the one called Magneto could have tried, but would he have succeeded? You could very well have woken up to a wasteland. Or a planet conquered by the Kree. Or, at best, a planet where the Eternals have taken over."

To that Apocalypse had no response but the truth. "I…had not anticipated so many exterior elements interfering." He waited until Ozymandias's mocking cackle faded, having long since become inured to the ancient undying one's laughter. "So… what should I do?"

"Launch your war and die," Ozymandias hissed with true hate in his voice now. "You were asleep too long, your vassals waited too long to waken you because of the Dire Wraiths and the other aliens. You no longer are in a position to wage a war as an equal. Perhaps a guerilla war, but that is all. Potter has won against you without even trying!"

Apocalypse scowled, then he began to smile, looking around him. "Perhaps, perhaps not. After all… while Earth might be lost to me for now, that does not mean I cannot retreat elsewhere and gather more strength, more power. Prove myself against lesser enemies." He raised his voice, ordering, "Ship orders: short term, open up the Mausoleum and prepare it for gene-altering. I will first examine those two individuals. If they prove worthy, that will mean I will only need to find one more Horseman. After that, prepare a list of what I will need to obtain in order to make you space-capable once more."

OOOOOOO

Harry looked around at the vast group that had gathered together here in the main hall of Camelot. All of them were now staring at him, waiting with bated breath as piles upon piles of food, music, and other things began to gather on the long row of tables spread out against the walls to either side of the hall. The rest of the castle had already been prepared for this, the biggest party it had quite possibly ever seen. The massive wine vault of the castle had also been opened and every kind of drink imaginable was on tap for the asking. Indeed, Harry knew of at least ten house-elves who had been researching drinks for this occasion. Elsewhere in the castle rooms had been set aside for various types of entertainment, so many Harry didn't know about them all, although he'd had a hand in setting up most of them. Regardless, this was going to be a party to remember for everyone here, whatever they chose to do after it officially began.

But for now, everyone who would take part in the parties was here, while the rest of the castle's populace, the younger kids, the teachers and the rest of the school's population had agreed to stay to Camelot's version of the Gryffindor tower for now. Every member of the extended Custodes Mundi team, the X-Men, both new and old, the FF, Doom and Paris and several dozen of his officers, Wendy and her group who had been busy in the background during the war, and Mystique and her team of spies, now formally pulled out of the field. Even Thunderbird and his smaller team were there, although the work in Genosha was still ongoing. Dozens of other men and women also stood there, friends made over the past month, men and women in various military off duty wear, a dozen politicians from around the world who had been instrumental in forging the new peace or pushing for mutant rights and others.

Now they stood in front of him, with the rest. "All right people," Harry said with a grin at Piotr, whose words of 'I hope this won't take too long, I'm rather hungry and speeches do not a pleasant time make', had reached him easily. "As anyone could tell you, I'm not really one for giving speeches. Not long ones anyway." he added, as and several of the others began to laugh. "Yada yada, greatest trial yet, yada yada, hugely tested, yada yada, came together in the face of blah blah. Can we all say everything's been said?" He was answered by a rousing cheer and he roared back. "In that case, let the festivities begin!"

There was a load roar and music instantly started up in the background, a hard, thumping rock band Harry thought he recognized as AC/DC but couldn't be certain. A lot of people began to pair off, mobbing to dance. But in the main, the teens and older members of the Custodes were more interested in the food. Most of the foods served here in the castle were of the nutritious variety, but the food being served now was pizza, chicken wings, hoagies, and Philly cheesesteaks, several different types of every kind of fatty, but good tasting food from around the world.

Harry mingled with the crowd for a good hour, getting introduced to many of the men and women one or other of the Custodes had asked to be included in this party. Since they had all passed through the runic doorways he knew they were no threat and mostly trustworthy, but he hadn't met many of them personally before this. But this party wasn't just for the Custodes Mundi but for their new friends too, those men and women who had led, sweated and nearly died in several cases alongside them.

At that thought, Harry's eyes flicked over towards where Banshee and Evan were speaking to one another by a buffet table. Hopefully, this party would help them both get out of their funk. Still, Evan was badly wounded in the line of duty for the second time in this war. That kind of thing can wear on one and he was never the most dedicated fighter either. Banshee though should get over his funk quickly, especially with his daughter being released from jail soon.

Still, the loud music and the strobing lights of the main room started to bother him after a time and he slowly exited, heading out to check in on everything else being offered today as part of this party, although he certainly wasn't the first. Practically every room bar those which were dedicated to education had been turned over to this party and many had gone to explore.

So Harry began to make the rounds, smiling and laughing with everyone, eating food here and there as the house-elves brought it along to the various rooms as the partygoers spread out. He took part in some of the games in one room, then in the next just looking on in bemusement along with the extremely pregnant Sue, Emma, and the amused form of Paris Lourdes at the antics of Dr. Doom and Reed Richards.

Harry had personally set up this room as one of the four game rooms, filling it with every type of chess that he had been able to find mention of around the world. He'd then enchanted the pieces so that they all acted like those in wizard's chess, believing that everyone would get a kick out of them.

However, he had not anticipated the two mad scientists - and yes, Harry fully believed that appellation was true for Reed as much it was Dr. Doom - to just take the entire room over. Even as he watched, they were playing seven of the different types of chess all at once. On one table lay the 'dead' remains of the king and queen Doom had been using, sacrificed as an example to the rest of his pieces around the room. Now every piece followed his orders exactly, while Reed was still contending with the pieces attempting to give him advice many times if they didn't think he was using them well.

Harry stood there watching for a time, then shook his head and left the room. In the movie area, he found that Melody and Illyana had somehow, Harry wasn't certain how, evaded the security spells that were supposed to have kept them and the other kids in the tower. Instead, they were up and had taken over the movie lounge, where they were currently watching The Jungle Book and had roped Jean into it along with Rahne and Garm.

He looked at Garm quizzically from the doorway, one eyebrow rising, and the wolf grumbled looking away. "Well, I have to admit that singing in this is actually quite good and besides, I want to see this so-called lord of the jungle, Shere Khan. Humph, as if a giant kitten would be any match for one such as I."

Harry chuckled at that but left them to it. So long as they were having fun, that was the main goal of this party.

One of the great things about having a magical castle was that Harry could control it to a certain extent, rearranging things and creating several different ballrooms. The main hall was for dancing to heavy music and rock. There were others designed for different musical styles or games, such as this one.

He found Scott in one of them, laughingly engaged in wagering on a game of table tennis between Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton on one side, and Rogue with an unknown trooper on the other, with a dozen of the troopers that had been invited, Americans, Italians and a few Turks and Georgian, around them. Sam Guthrie and Sam Wilson both nodded to him, and the sight of wagers being passed back and forth as the game of table tennis went on was almost surreal, but in an extremely good way, Harry reflected. Scott saw him and moved over, noticing when Harry had indicated he should come along.

"Sir, er, that is, Harry," said Scott said, one hand twitching up into a salute before he could stop himself. He looked a little inebriated, but not a lot and his eyes kept on straying back to where Rogue was starting to dominate her opponent. The girl's hand-eye coordination had certainly come a long way since the days when Harry had been training the team.

"Scott, just wanted to tell you that there will be a little meeting tomorrow morning, not early don't worry about that, we'll have a working brunch basically. I would however like you to start thinking about recommendations among the regular troopers to add to the Custodes Mundi and X-Men during this break."

Scott blinked, then slowly nodded, his eyes flicking over the crowd of troopers around them, Wendy and a few of her people. Wendy looked over at him and grinned, giving the two men thumbs up, before going back in shrieking out "Get them Rogue, show that bastard to keep his sexist comments to himself!"

Harry smirked back at the girl, shaking his head as Scott guffawed. Wendy had proven to be one heck of an asset from the get-go, but since taking over the mutant retrieval squad, she seemed to be styling herself along the same lines as a strange mix between Ororo and Jean, which, Harry reflected was all to the good. After all, she could do far worse in terms of role models. And she led her team very well indeed, although personally, Harry was wondering if it was time to enlarge the team some more and what she wanted to do with the rest of her time away from the team. She hadn't yet decided on doing more than finishing high school, but it was time for her to start thinking about college if she wanted to, either here in Camelot or elsewhere.

"Do you have any idea where Magma and Danielle are?" Harry asked, turning back to Scott.

Scott thought for a minute, then shook his head. "I know where they aren't, they aren't in the ballroom or the dance room, although I did see Steve in there. Not the main one, the small one, the one that was playing country and jazz."

Harry chuckled at that, but nodded, clapped the younger man on his shoulder and turned to leave, while behind him, the ping-pong games turned into a full tournament as Clint shouted, "Who wants to step up to the plate now, huh?"

With that, Harry made his way up two floors and along a corridor, to two rooms that had until today been designated for the recently created high school program. With all the kids they'd been taking in the recently, it would eventually be a necessity, although it wasn't quite yet thanks to Charles doing a magnificent job of putting up the thirty-odd students of high school age with mutant powers in the X-mansion. Harry and he had talked about that and Harry had already funded a major rebuilding project for the mansion, not only adding to its security but building an entire new wing into it, which would be turned over to the youngsters.

Now however, these rooms were serving a far different purpose. The walls between them had been magically absorbed into the rest of the castle, the stone floors had been smoothed out into a dance floor and like the main dining room, music was blaring from a stereo system brought in by Jean. But here, it wasn't the fastpaced techno-pop and heavy metal rock that dominated in the main room, but rather Western music and jazz as Scott had said.

In the middle of the room was Steve with, for some reason, a cowboy hat on his head, twirling and dancing along with Betsy and Laura to either side of him. This sight made Harry thankful that Havok had opted to not come to the festivities. He had instead decided to go to a rock concert in New York. He would, of course, have time to get involved in the festivities over the coming week, but Harry really hoped that if he came upon a scene like this that he kept control.

At first, Harry thought Steve seemed to be switching from one young woman to the other, but he quickly saw that in fact, it was the ladies guiding things taking turns and it was turning the good captain's head quite easily. Despite his concerns for the future, Harry grinned at the sight, thinking that if there was anyone who deserved to be as amazingly happy as those two ladies could make someone, it was Steve.

He made his way towards them but before he could get to Steve, Paige danced out of the crowd of soldiers and astonishingly enough, two politicians. She then bumped Betsy out of the way to grab Steve's head in her hands and pull him into a quick kiss.

"What the bloody hell Guthrie?!" Betsy shouted, her thick London accent coming out heavily in her shock and anger. "Ya bloomin' dog, ya can't just…"

Paige quickly twisted away, laughing and shouting "Snooze you lose English!" Before she disappeared into the crowd again putting several other people between her and the furious telepath and the equally furious user of magnetism.

Steve looked a little poleaxed and Laura almost glared at him as Harry came within hearing range. "You didn't seem to put up a much of a fight there did you?"

"Did I have time to?" Steve rejoined, shaking his head. "Before you ask, no I've never done anything to indicate that I was attracted to her, young Paige is well, young after all."

"And you being an old soul," Harry said, clapping them on the shoulders. "I'm sorry to take him away from you two for a moment, ladies. But I need to talk with Steve for a second."

Pulling Steve towards a corner Harry ignored the captain's muttered thanks, looking at him quizzically, "Are you interested in either or both of them? Or are you just uncertain how to tell them no? They're big girls, they can handle it I think if you're already in a relationship with Natasha or just not interested."

"Um, well, I'm kind of interested in them both I think. Did you know Laura is an amateur historian? She knows a lot of things about World War I and World War II that even I didn't know, and I lived through World War II! It was fascinating to hear her take on some of the men and people I met, however briefly, and correct some of her own misapprehensions of a few of them. And Betsy is just fascinating to talk to, she knows so much about how modern culture was formed and about world affairs and music, we've talked for hours without touching on the same subject twice. I, they're just so fascinating, I have a lot of trouble trying to figure out which to pursue and if I even should."

"Huh… well, you're a big boy too Steve and I'm the last person to tell you that such a trio's not a good idea. Just make certain if you decide to pursue both that Laura and Betsy both understand they're even in your eyes before getting too far, okay? A plus would be making certain they have feelings towards one another, or at least are attracted to one another. I sort of lucked out in that area with my ladies in that they came to love one another just as much as me," Harry said, chuckling as he remembered the night they had spent together, which, as Hela had thought, had grown to include much of the next day.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you that there is going to be a brief meeting tomorrow. Not early, we'll have a working brunch out of it I think before heading back to our vacation," he said, deliberately using the same words he used earlier with Scott.

Steve nodded and said, "I'm not one to drink heavily anyway," he said, twitching one finger up, to where a cigarette was sticking out from behind his ear. "I get by with other vices."

Harry chuckled at that and nodded. He then officially turned Steve back over to the tender ministrations of the two ladies. He noted Paige had made her escape from the room entirely and wondered idly to Jean if they were going to get into trouble with her mother the next day for letting her stay up like this.

"Are you serious?" Jean asked in his head, having heard the thought from where she and the kids were watching Jungle Book. "She's a Southern gal from a small dying town Harry, she's been drinking since she was 14. No, unless she wakes up next to someone of the male persuasion lacking some clothing, we won't be having issues with her mother."

Harry smiled happily at that, sending back a wordless reply of relief, which caused Jean to giggle in his mind, a feeling that put a grin on his face as he made his way around the castle. He found Amara and Danielle outside with Piotr by the lake. Oddly enough, he had put a light nearby and he and Amora were actually drawing and painting respectively.

Piotr was drawing a picture of what the lake looked like with the moon overhead and the stars glittering down. It was actually quite good. Amara was concentrating on painting the castle itself at night, emphasizing the light from the windows and the shape of the castle against the night sky. It was odd to see a painting mostly composed of various contrasts of black, but it too was quite good.

And nearby, Danielle was talking quietly, along with Anne Marie Cortez and Kurt. Wanda was there too, although she was already asleep, oddly enough cozying up to Kurt's side while he ran a hand through her wild frizz of hair that was so like yet unlike Kitty or another frizzy-haired brunette he once knew. When did those two get so close? Harry thought to himself, before shaking his head. None of my business.

He tapped Piotr and Amara and Danielle on the shoulders, told them of the meeting and then left them to it. Some people preferred quiet fun and so long as they were enjoying themselves and simply having downtime after the last near to a month of hard grinding work and warfare, that was fine by him.

In the main dining hall, the techno-pop, and heavy metal music were so loud as to make Harry's teeth hurt, with the strobing lights above them and the hollow projection of a real-life band on the far wall. There were about 30 people in the room, dancing and hobnobbing and making more noise than their numbers should've indicated in such a large space. Like most other places in the castle, most of them were soldiers that had been invited to this, but many were aid workers, locals the Custodes had met and befriended from various places. Holding court in the center were Thunderbird, Boom Boom, Jubilee, Angel, Morph, and Mystique of all people. She was easily the best dancer of the lot, swaying her hips, doing small flips in place and twirls, her perfect body control being seen easily.

But despite the irritation of the loud noise and their having fun, Harry had to get a few of those people out of the crowd to talk to them for a moment. He whistled sharply, the noise cutting through to his intended victims, causing them to twitch and glare over at him. Using magic he sent his voice to their ears then left them to their fun.

And finally, on top of the tower, Harry found Hela and Ororo, sharing a bottle of wine and arguing something about history together, although by the smiles, they were both having fun. In the background, a slow jazz song played, mostly instrumentals. Nearby Hedwig perched, reading a book by the light of a booklight that one of the house-elves, or someone else, had set up for her.

Deciding he had finally found a place where he could relax, he conjured a chair right in front of the little table that was holding the wine and plopped down into it, sighing as he rested his hands on their knees to either side of them. "Hello ladies, I don't suppose you'd mind if a weary warrior takes away a load off here, would you?"

Ororo laughed the sound as always making Harry smile, squeezing his hand on her thigh gently. "Of course Harry. Welcome to our little quiet place."

Hela replied magically. Harry could feel it wash over the small table behind him lifting it up into the air, then pulling his conjured chair, with Harry on it, backward so that they were all laying out in a row. Then he watched as the chair shifted shape, before plunking down effectively trapping him in the chair, but once more putting the wine and their glasses within easy reach of the two ladies. "I don't mind at all, my Seidr man," Hela said, reaching to pick up her wine cup again.

Above them, the stars turned and Harry smiled, leaning back and closing his eyes as he let the words of their argument about whether or not the holy Roman air Empire had been doomed from the start wash over him, smiling faintly. There was still a shit ton to do but for now, for just this week, Harry felt he could let himself rest.

OOOOOOO

Back in the main room, Mystique handed Destiny down into her chair, smiling down at the older seeming woman. "Are you sure I can only tease you into one dance?" she asked. "That wasn't even a fast one."

"I'm afraid not Raven," Irene said with a small, wan laugh. "I have not had any energy for such as that for several months. But I would like your company if you would prefer to sit next to me rather than be out there humiliating the younger set with your dance moves."

Pouting as that was indeed what Raven had been hoping to do, the shape-changer sat down next to her old lover, taking her hand, sobering as she felt the frailty in that grip. It was so easy to forget when they were apart how much time had taken from Irene, given her own body's longevity, but now, once more, Raven had to admit that their time as lovers might soon be coming to an end.

They stayed silent, watching the fun for a time from their own quiet corner and Mystique idly noted that one of the house-elves seemed to have created a bubble of magic that kept much of the sound away from them. Despite that, she could hear the music and it had just shifted to another fast tune, one she remembered Irene had liked to drive to when it first came out, 'Radar Love'.

Before she could comment on that though, Irene spoke up again. "Yet you, you and Harry Potter, you did it. You did enough to forever silence the futures, that I predicted so long ago. The future Magneto saw. The future Sinister saw. The future the one who created him saw. All are impossible now. Humanity. Mutant kind. We will face the future together now, come what may."

At that, Raven turned to her sharply, ignoring the oddity of the spell around them to stare at her. "The one who created Sinister?"

"A problem for the future, a small one for now, but one that cannot touch the future of humanity, as much as that being might try." Irene smiled the one little smile, coughing lightly, but with a deep racking sound to it, that caused Raven to turn to her in alarm. Her old lover held up a hand, shaking her head. "There's nothing you can do," she said taking Raven's hands lightly their own. "Your injections of blood have kept me alive far, far longer than my own lifespan would've been, thanks to the impact my powers have on my longevity. It's just come time. I've known it would for weeks. Since before the Dire Wraiths launch their attack."

"Irene, are you saying you're… I'll go get help!" Raven said, trying to get to her feet, but Irene wouldn't let her wrist go.

The older woman just shook her head. "No, there's nothing anyone can do at this point. Not even Harry Potter and his magic can reverse the effects of aging although at least in the future, his scientists will discover the means by which to slow it. My body, it has been failing since before Magneto died and has simply been accelerating every month that has gone by since. Better that I go now, watching this, watching mutants, nonpowered humans, men and women from the world over dancing the night away, having bought peace for a time. Much better. No muss, no fuss, no last-minute attempt to revive me, just going out on my own terms, with my best friend beside me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Raven asked, grief sorrow and hurt in her voice.

"You had a job to do," Irene replied simply. "What you had to do was more important than my wants and desires, more important than us. That's all there is to it Raven. Besides as I said, by this point, there's nothing you could've done. You heard what Una said the last time you offered to give me more of your blood, any more infusions would cause a negative reaction with my own T cells and kill me. Better to go out like this, on my own terms," she repeated. "Better to go out happy."

As she had been speaking, Irene's voice had slowly begun to soften, lowering, as she slowly began to slump in her chair taking Raven's hand with her, placing it into her lap and taking it with both of her own hands. "It's been a long time," she murmured, "I can go on, to my next adventure."

"Promise me, Raven," she said, squeezing the hand even as Raven was forced to lean in to hear her voice, her eyes glinting suspiciously, but no tears on her face. "Promise me that you'll go on. You will not wallow in grief, you will continue to live your life, rather than regretting the passing of mine. Promise me, my love."

"I promise, love," Raven said, her voice cracking, but still, no tears would come as she leaned her for head against Irene's close enough to feel the other woman's breath on her face. "I promise. I love you."

Irene smiled and whispered I love you back, but then as she finished saying the last word, Raven felt the other woman's breath stop. It was that quick, that simple, one moment she was alive, the next, she was gone. Still smiling, still looking as if she just closed her eyes to go sleep. The suddenness of it startled Raven almost as much as Irene's warning her had and she pulled back slowly, staring into her old friend's face, before shuddering and twisting around, taking her slowly chilling hand in her own.

As she did, two elderly house-elves, extremely elderly ones popped in, nodded to her and put blankets over them both. They then waved their hands, casting some kind of spell that seems to make the two of them disappeared to the senses of the other people in the room. Raven stayed there, staring not at the people around her, but at memories, holding her friend's hand through the night.

OOOOOOO

"I am afraid it is official my Emperor, Galactus the World Eater is turning inwards, deeper into our territory."

The man so speaking was tall, so tall he would have been a foot taller than even Colossus in his metal form. He was wider too, his entire body exuded power and strength, draped in a dark red uniform complete with a cloak. His purple skin shone brightly in the light of the massive throne room he was standing in currently, it's edges almost out of sight to either side. His hair was done up in a tall, almost equally purple, mohawk.

The Emperor this man was addressing was a much smaller man, although he was actually of normal height for his people as shown by the number of advisors crowded around his gigantic, golden and silver throne. Slight of bone, his skin was tanned red, his body thin under his Royal raiment of silver and white gold. The man wore on his head a small crown, with a single multi-colored jewel set into the platinum of the crown in the center of his forehead. His hair was as black as night, falling like the feathers of a bird to just above his shoulders. In his hands he held the staff of office, although it could've been called a spear just as easily and beside his throne lay the scabbards of two sabers, their hilts beautiful, but still perfectly balanced and useable.

His eyes were deeply sunken into his face, not because of age but because of a certain amount of personal austerity when it came to food and drink, although the Emperor was known to indulge in other, far more unusual vices. But those eyes still had the same predatory glare of his avian ancestors. And that was indeed the case, for all that he was looked frail, the Emperor of the Shi'ar was a predator in several different senses of the word.

However, even the stupidest predator knew that there were always bigger ones out there and Galactus was certainly one such. "What planet is he aiming towards, Gladiator?"

"it could be one of any three my liege at this moment, we have no way of narrowing it down just yet."

"And his Herald, do we have any information about that one?" the Emperor asked without pausing.

"Some my liege. He apparently is a large stone-skinned man, who wields an ax and has apparently no mercy for any sentient being that might be on the planet in his Master's path. We believe that it is by his inclination that Galactus has changed his course in such a manner. He seems to understand though that the more life force, the more Galactus approves of any given meal."

"Well now, that, in particular, is not good," the Emperor said mildly, his eyes flashing in direct jarring contrast to his tone. While he really didn't care much about any single planet within his realm, Galactus could eat more than half of his empire and still be hungry. "Do you think we could in some fashion shift their attention away?" He asked turning his gaze away from Gladiator to several other of his key advisors, including his chief military strategist.

"No," he said bluntly. "Galactus is something akin to a natural phenomenon. He cannot be waylaid or beaten off, only appeased, or survived. We could defeat his Herald, but not the being himself."

"What say you Deathbird?" the Emperor asked looking over at his sisters. They were younger than he, though not by much for Deathbird and they were a study in contrasts both physically and mentally.

Lilandra was the youngest of the three siblings. She was dressed in a silver dress, which flowed loosely from her shoulders down to her ankles, belted at her waist by a golden belt that held both a blaster and a sword, which she could use quite well, if not up to the standards of either of her older siblings. Her body was thin as all their people tended to be, but she moved lithely, quickly, her movements that of a trained dancer. She was a consummate politician and stateswoman, a fine advisor. But while she could fight at need, she was no warrior like her two siblings.

Oddly enough, Deathbird was the most physically well-built of the three siblings and was more beautiful than her sister as many humanoid races denoted such things. She was not any taller, but was far more muscled, with visible muscles and tones arms on display by her purple armor which ended at her shoulders. That armor covered her body like a second skin, showing off not just her muscles but also the large chest, larger by several sizes than was typical of their race. Her eyes were a cold, hard white without pupils and her hair flared up into two wings shapes to either side of her head. From her purple-armored wrists twin metal whips hung, a special kind of weapon their people had once used in gladiatorial arenas and which Deathbird, or Cal'ysee as she had been named at her birth, was quite skilled with.

And like the image she projected, D'ken felt Deathbird was a throwback to their ancestors' warlike, predatory side. In many ways, she was a blunt instrument, one who would always prefer violence and combat. Yet there was nothing wrong with her mind, even if that mind was, as D'ken knew only too well, seething with ambition and a desire for the throne he sat on. "Slay the Herald," she said, her words chopped off and angry. "That will at least slow Galactus down. It's a documented fact that he will give off his feeding for a time in order to search out a proper emissary. Further, if we can then somehow steer his search out into the other powers, it will be they who will be weakened by his hunger, not us."

"And what of you Lilandra?" The Emperor asked.

Deathbird's answer had been anticipated, but the Emperor D'ken looked at his youngest sister thoughtfully. Of both women, it was her odd empathy, as well as her monumental status with the common people that he was most worried about. His oldest sister's ambitions were obvious, but she knew her place too well to challenge him yet. Perhaps soon that might no longer be the case, he thought, twitching his eyes back towards Deathbird, seeing the eagerness, the bloodlust that seemed inherent in her stance, the way she hunched herself forward like one of their ancestors ready to pounce. But Lilandra was much harder to read, much more pragmatic than Deathbird, willing to speak or fight at need.

"I believe in this instance that our sister is right. An attempt to talk should be made with this Herald, that is their purpose after all. But if it fails, his death would prove useful in slowing Galactus down. And there are several planets inside Badoon territory which we know have a strong bio-signature. If we could somehow steer his search for a Herald in that direction, then the World-Eater will have his fill beyond our borders," Lilandra said, her tone calculating yet also showing concern for their own people.

"My men and I stand ready to serve the Empire in any way you wish, Your Majesty," Gladiator intoned, taking a knee and slamming a fist into the ground in front of him, the reverberations carrying through the floor for a moment.

"Yet we might wish to think of a way to slay the Herald without the use of the Praetorian guard," another advisor stated, speaking out of turn. D'ken looked at him and the man went on hurriedly. "Galactus has been known to take offense when someone slays a Herald and we do not wish the Shi'ar Empire to go the way of the Gith."

The Gith had been a near-prehistoric interstellar society, all of whom had been wiped out millennia ago. By Galactus, after they had slain his then-Herald. Yes, D'ken mused as he recalled his ancient history, the man had a point. He would, therefore, continue to live and serve his Emperor instead of being killed for speaking up out of turn. "Hmmm… this is true. But we do have a few hundred Praetorian Guards who can act outside of uniform. Not being able to use Gladiator would make killing the Herald far more difficult, but it should still be possible."

He looked around the room, silently asking for any more information or opinions on this issue. "There is one thing…" said one of his other advisers slowly, an older man with white air and pale skin, who moved creakily as he gestured forward into the air in front of him. He was the spymaster of the empire and despite his advancing years, he was one of his advisors even D'ken knew he had to listen to.

With a series of finger commands to the holo-computer that was set into the walls and floor of the throne room, the man pulled up information on a single out-of-the-way planet, which was several thousand light-years away from their own borders. The colors of blue, white and green, it looked to be a decent enough planet, the Emperor judged, reading off the information quickly, just the kind the Shi'ar would choose to colonize for themselves. Once it was wiped clean of any original sentients which had evolved there of course, unless they could be taught their place in the wider galaxy and made to be useful to the Shi'ar. Yet it was certainly not unusual for that. "Why are you bringing this insignificant nothing planet to our attention?"

"Because sire, that insignificant nothing planet, has apparently begun to produce superpowered individuals, individuals who are mighty beyond belief."

"Like our Imperial guard then?" The Emperor asked dryly. "I will concern myself with such a planet when it's empowered numbers rise into the tens of thousands."

"No sire, I did not mean to imply that the planet was a threat," the man said without any haste or fear of royal displeasure. "Indeed, attempting to take or even destroy it might well bring us into the endless ware between the Skrull and Kree, considering that they have fought one another over it several times in the past.

"HO? Truly? Why?" Deathbird asked while Lilandra frowned in confusion.

"The aforesaid super-powered members and its somewhat strategic position," the strategist, said leaning forward. "I've had reports about that from our military scout ships.

Deathbird nodded at that, seeing his point at once as she saw the position of Earth in relation to the two named Empires. For all her vaunted ambition, there was nothing wrong with her mind. "If either side could take that system and use it as a supply depot, they would be able to sweep around and flank their enemies either way. It makes sense, but it isn't something that should be taking too much of their time…"

She too looked at the man who had brought it up. But even under her yellow-eyed glare, he refused to be cowed. "My liege, Galactus also had shown an interest in that planet."

"So it's gone then," the Emperor said simply. "And you are wasting my time," he then added, his tone cold.

"Sire, the planet is still there. Some of its defenders apparently were able to come up with some means of either appeasing or scaring Galactus off," the man replied. "If we could but find out how then we could use it in turn and force Galactus from our territory for all time."

That drew some whispers of astonishment and the Emperor leaned forward. "Interesting. Very interesting…" he stared at his spymaster, waiting to hear any more information, but the man fell silent and he looked around. No one else had anything more to add and he nodded. "Gladiator, designate the one who will lead the secret attack on the Herald. Then ready a team of ten Imperial Guard. A ship will be prepared for you all within the day and you will head to this Earth place. You will find how they have appeased Galactus and then however you can, gain this ability for the Shi'ar Empire. If they balk at sharing, you know what to do."

OOOOOOO

The funeral for Irene was held the next morning. It was a small crowd that gathered to mourn her passing. It wasn't small because of hangovers or anything like that, Harry had enough anti-hangover potions to go around, but Mystique had insisted that only Destiny's friends attend. And while she had been acquainted with many, Irene had been friends with few. Kitty's parents were there, the mother sad, but dry-eyed leaning against her husband. Piotr and Illyana's grandparents were also there, Rahne, as were a few of the other teachers and adults, but the only members of the team that were there were Rogue and Anne Marie, along with Harry and Ororo.

Hela performed the ceremony, which was held on the shore of the lake as Irene had always loved the water, any body of water really. Though the Goddess of Niflheim hadn't been acquainted with the other woman overmuch, it would not be the first time she performed such a ceremony even for an unbeliever.

The goddess had organized it quite well, in Raven's opinion. Indeed, she was very thankful for the other woman's support and help to get this done so quickly. Irene wouldn't want us to linger over things, Raven thought, still dry-eyed even now as she moved away from the casket containing her friend.

In front of Hela and the coffin containing the body of Raven's old friend everyone sat in rows of chairs, while on the ground around them blue cornflowers, Irene's favorite flower grew in bunches. In the background the national anthem of Irene's native Austria, Land of Mountains, Land by the River played via a set of instruments Harry and Hela had magicked to play the song between them, low, but constant, followed by a series of Irene's favorite composers such as Bach and Chopin.

At first, everyone had a few moments to reflect on their friendship with Irene, going up to the currently open casket to say their farewells. According to Raven, Irene had never believed in gods before meeting Hela and even after had not believed in an almighty. Whether that equated to believing there was no afterlife, no one knew, but that lack of faith had made for a quite ad hoc ceremony.

Once everyone had a turn to come up to say their personal farewells to the dead, Hela spoke up, a benediction to a woman who had helped to change the world. "When a warrior passes, there is mead drink and feasting, to remember the life of the warrior, not the death. Though Irene was not in the truest sense a warrior, she was a fighter. A bright, pure soul, who saw the future through her powers and who determined that such futures should never be. It takes an intense amount of courage not only to stare into the skein of the future like that but to look at the Fates and say no, I will not let this happen. To challenge the very Fates, to shout at Skuld that you make your own destiny, takes a special type of individual.

"Such an individual was Irene. She could see the Fates and yet did not let that knowledge weigh her down. She used it, yes, to guide her actions and the actions of others. Not to hide away from that distant future, but to challenge it. All this, despite the fact that each time she used her powers, it cost her more of her own energy, more of her own life force and mental acuity. Truly a double edge sword and yet she took it's cuts and scrapes as bravely as any warrior could."

Hela looked at Rogue, then Raven as she continued. "And nor was her great charge the only thing in her life. For despite those visions, despite the weight of them, Irene was brave enough to open her heart to others. To befriend, to even love both in a familial way and in the way of lovers. To leave behind those that will mourn her yet keep on her great work. As a goddess of the dead, I tell you this. Her soul is one that the Lady will treat with utmost care. I tell ye true, she will travel to the bright lands and wait for her next turn of the wheel in joy and happiness. So remember her life good friends, her love, and do not let her passing mar your own lives going forward."

With that, she fell silent, her hands falling from where she had raised them and nodded to Rogue and Mystique, who gently picked up the two sides of the coffin, moving it forward. At the same time, Harry cast a spell into the coffin, burning the body within to ash in seconds without searing the coffin.

The two women who had been closest to Irene in her life laid her coffin down, then slowly opened it and at a gesture from Ororo a wind picked up, scooping into the coffin and scattering the woman's ashes out across the lake creating a kaleidoscope of colors as the sunlight hit the ashes.

Mystique stared at it for a time, still dry-eyed. She was a woman who had used up all her tears long since. But inside, she was weeping for her friend taken far too soon. More than eighty years we had together and it was still far too soon. But our mission, your mission love, it's finished. Mine isn't. You called the future bright Irene, harsh at times, difficult, but bright for mutant-kind. And it will stay that way, Mystique thought, staring at the ashes as they danced across the waters, the rainbow's hues slowly disappearing as the rest of the funeralgoers slowly drifted away. Whatever I have to do, I will keep it that way, I will make you proud and guard our dream, I swear it.

OOOOOOO

Oddly enough, the funeral for Irene did not cast a pall over the ongoing downtime for the various teams and their friends and allies. All the younger set were simply too tired from the fighting, too ecstatic it had finished for a time. So the week off continued as Irene had told Raven she hoped it would, with even Raven trying to put her lover's death behind her. It would be many months before she really did, but she refused to let her grief control her life.

But because of Irene's passing the meeting Harry had wanted to do with the men and women he had contacted during the party that had started their week off was, of course, moved to several days later. But it still occurred and was still a working lunch, held in the main dining hall after the rest of the castle's inhabitants had eaten. "All right, as you might've deduced from my hint about what I wanted you to think about, this is a meeting about the future of the Custodes Mundi. It had been pointed out to me and the meetings about Russia that the Custodes Mundi only has a few examples of unpowered humans, those being Carol and Wyatt. And Sam Wilson, if you want to get technical," he added looking over at Steve who just nodded. "But he is going to be seconded to another program entirely soon enough.

"But Hawkeye and Black Widow are both willing to sign up," Steve interjected.

"Fine," Harry said with a nod, "I'll meet with them in a few days down at Magical Mind's headquarters." From what he knew of the two of them he wouldn't have any issues, but it was best to make certain about such things. Especially considering how much he was going to be upgrading their armament.

"Beyond those two, however, I want recommendations from you Steve and you Scott. Five each, men and women who you've interacted with during this war with Russia and who you think can join the team. I've already asked the Black Panther to supply four names of his own and that'll give us fourteen new individuals to add to the team, nonpowered individuals. When they arrive, they'll be worked out with the rest of the team, separated into the various combat squads by ability. But I will not be part of that discussion or training," Harry trailed off with a sigh.

The others, his officers one and all, looked at him and he sighed. "This has been a long time coming people, but Ororo and I are officially retiring from the day to day activities of the Custodes Mundi and the larger efforts of bringing in further mutants or fighting against mutant and anti-mutant terrorists. "We'll work with you when you need bigger hammers and so will Jean once she recovers from her pregnancy. But frankly, we both have got too much else on our plates to keep working out and drilling and above all organizing the new incoming people into the team doctrine."

He turned to Steve, who stiffened. "Steve, that'll fall to you, with Amara as your second-in-command."

The young Neo-Grecian nodded, understanding instantly why this decision had been made even though she had been in charge of many of the team deployments before this. Steve had a lot more experience than her after all, especially when it came to working with newcomers, getting them used to how the teams did things.

"Furthermore, because of these newcomers and because they'll add to the size of the Custodes Mundi, it's time to formalize our organization. Steve will be Captain and Amara and Scott will be his first lieutenants. Piotr will be our acting first Sergeant. That's a noncommissioned officer position, which means you won't be the one actually making the decision, but you'll be the one who gets to know the people under you, gets to understand the tenor of the various squads and make suggestions. I don't think this needs to be said, but if Piotr makes a suggestion to you ladies and gentlemen, I suggest you listen very closely."

Everyone else nodded as the humble Russian farm boy ducked his head in acknowledgment.

"Thunderbird, Dani, you're both second lieutenants and you'll be able to choose your own sergeants." Harry's words made Scott nod and Thunderbird stiffen and Harry smiled approvingly at the Apache warrior. "You've earned it Thunderbird. Congratulations."

"You're not making me a Captain just because if you made me another rank it would class clash with my superhero name are you?" Steve asked, his eyes narrowed slightly even as his lips twitched in humor.

"Somewhat yes," Harry said with a laugh. "I can't exactly call you Major Captain America after all. It would both be a mouthful and rather silly."

Steve chuckled at that shaking his head, but nodded agreement.

"Each of the First lieutenants will need to create a plan to integrate the newcomers once they are assigned to them, turn them into Steve, who will then forward it to me for final approval. That final approval will only be based on the workload and the weapon loadouts Magical Minds will be asked to create for those newcomers, so don't think I'll still be the one making the decisions. I want you all thinking about that over the next week, but beyond that, get out of here and make sure to have as much fun as you possibly can before we all go back to the grinder."

As the meeting broke up, Harry smiled. That little bit of work was done, now he could get back to his vacation. He'd promised all the kids a trip to Disney World and right now seemed to be a great time for it. Although, Ororo and I will have to disguise ourselves. Still, seeing the most magical place on Earth could be very cool.

This was how Harry and everyone else spent their week off: having fun and being around one another. Not a day went by without Harry having fun with the kids, ignoring, for the week, his role as leader of the EDF and the budding nation of Avalon, although he knew that finalizing the creation of that nation would be his next job going forward. Not a night went by without him and his ladies going on dates or simply heading to bed early for more adult type bonding. For everyone from Harry on down to even Iceman and the newest X-men, it was a desperately needed time of renewal.

And at the end of the downtime, there came the wedding between Harry and Emma. Little did they know that that happy event would be interrupted by the outcome of a far less happy event occurring elsewhere…

End Chapter


Note that this is not a cliffhang but foreshadowing LOL. And as always, please read and review.