I know you're out there people. . .-pokes-. One review is all it takes to brighten someone's day. Remember, a smile is worth a thousand words! (P.S. Thanks tons to Certh, who has reviewed every chapter so far!)

Not to mention I just realized that there is this button that disables anonymous reviewers. . . .Oops.

But on the bright side, this is one of my favorite chapters yet, One of the shortest, but my favorite. And, as a quick edit. There's a link to a pic I drew of Susanna on my profile page. A little grainy, but I had fun.
It had been a long day for Belial. He now sat on a chair, his suit scrunched up under him as he slouched. His hair was tousled, his eyes bleary and he clutched a scotch in his hands that were clasped in front of him.

He didn't look as imposing as he thought he should.

Sighing, Belial stood, drank the last of the liquor, and walked out the door of his office. It wasn't really an office, more a desk where papers, writing utensils, reports and fan mail was stored. As he walked, he straightened his suit, pulling down the arms and patting the pleats. He undid his tie and unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his shirt and completely unfastened his jacket.

He walked through his base of operations, a tall building that was almost a skyscraper, with windows that looked out onto the large city. He owned the top seven floors and two of the basements, the penthouse being his own personal directory. Belial smiled as he stepped into the elevator to take him down to the other mutants. It was good to be on top.

Let me take the minute that Belial spent in the elevator to describe him a bit more. He was in his early twenties, with his father's blue-grey eyes. He was tall, about six one or six two, short blonde-brown hair that was stuck up in spikes because he ran his hands through it to much. With a straight nose, high cheekbones and thin lips, he had a sharp face. Open and attractive, Belial could've been a model in any nation.

The elevator door pinged and three mutants stood up. They had been waiting for Belial for nearly three hours. Belial nodded to them.

"Alright. I think." A pause. "I think that we're in the clear for that last bit of work."

No one said anything.

"Medusa, I want a report on the mutants attending my fathers school. Typhoon, I want a list of donations made to Xaviers, if they are anonymous, find them. Switch, -" A girl, by far the youngest of the group, looked up, "Just stay here."

The one called Medusa was an elegant woman, long legs and arms. Her entire body, however, was covered in scales that ranged in color from green to brown to white on her belly and insider her arms and legs. She had snake-like eyes, yellow and green with iris pupils, and no white. Her hair was black and cut short and pushed to the side, a few bangs falling into her eyes.

"Some of the files are unattainable." Medusa hissed. "Should I just try to filter out those of no threat and give you a number? Or do you want specifics?"

"I want it as specific as you can make it." Belial replied. "You both have week."

Typhoon, a lean young man, probably only a few years younger than Belial, with bright blonde hair that hung into his face nodded. He was a man of few words but lots of action, and it was obvious that Switch looked up to him, mimicking his strong stance.

"What about me?" Switch asked, dark brown eyes peering at Belial from beneath frizzy hair. "C'mon Bee, let me do something!"

Belials eyes narrowed. Level five, level five, level five, was the mantra Belial thought as he watched Switch. She was awful young to be in this group of elites. Sixteen, hormonal, hyperactive and with no social skills whatsoever, Switch was one of the most powerful mutants Belial had ever met. It was only unfortunate that she was aware of the fact.

Belial looked at Typhoon and Medusa. "You can leave." They nodded and went into the elevator behind Belial, descending down to the private basement, where they could go into their cars unnoticed.

Switch stared at Belial, eyes wide with apprehension.

"Switch." Belial said, massaging his temples. "Can you do something for me?" His voice had turned to honey, always a bad sign.

"Sure Bee."

Belial stared at Switch, sighed, and began to talk. Switch stood and listened. It took ten minutes for the man to outline his plan to the girl.

"Got it capitan!" the girl said, making a mock military salute. "No problem, really. I'm great with kids."

"This won't just be kids Switch. It'll be everyone." And for another ten minutes, Belial taught Switch how to speak.

"I'll get right on it." Switch said, a little bit more serious. "Don't worry about it. One week?"

"Yes."

Switch nodded. This wouldn't be so hard. One week to get impressionable, oppressed, fearful and discriminated mutants to join up with a man who promised near infinite freedom. Piece of cake.

Belial sighed. Hopefully Switch wouldn't totally screw up his plan. And it was such a nice plan. He stepped out of the way of the girl, who pushed the button for the elevator.

Belial looked down.

"Switch,"

"What's up?" she asked

"Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

Switch looked down as well. She looked back up at Belial and huffed, rolling her eyes as if the man were her father asking why her skirt was so short.

"They always break." Switch said, peering back up at the elevator. She narrowed her eyes. "Do you mind Bee?"

"No! Switch don't you-"

But it was too late. Switch had placed her hands on the burnished metal doors and they suddenly made a sucking sound. Two seconds later all that was left was a pile of dust and a hacking Switch.

"God! Get a maid up here or something." She coughed a bit more, looking no worse for the integration. "Alright!"

"Switch I swear if you set one foot-"

He didn't make it any further. Abruptly Switch had morphed, the metal that she had just absorbed changing her body. Her arms became metallic blades and extended almost a foot longer than her normal limbs. Her legs had also turned slightly reflective and thin rim-like wheels had appeared where her feet should have been. Switch's ankles had become axles and her head formed a protective metal covering. The silver streetsurfer.

"One week Bee!" Switch yelled as she jumped into the elevator shaft, her wheels morphing a little to get a grip on the cables, riding it like a tram car, defying gravity as she shot straight up. "See you then!"

Belial massaged his temples as two seconds later the elevator pinged and its doors opened to his apartment. He turned and watched the window as he saw a silver blur speed by him. Switch had her blade-arms out in front of her like an Olympic figure skater and her head down, eyes barely over the visor protruding from her forehead. Her legs were together and the wheels spun at a dizzying speed, carrying the girl down onto the street, where she cracked the pavement.

Two more seconds later and Switch was gone, off to tag all the mutant hotspots in Chicago, New York, LA, Miami and anywhere else that might hold a few discontents.

Belial took another deep breath and began to repeat his mantra again.

"Level five, level five, level five, level five."

There was really only one obvious reason that Belial could think of that justified his acceptance of Switch.

Shaking his head, he ran his hands through his hair again. That girl was such trouble. But she was cute, in a dorky kind of way. Kind of. He ran his hand through his hair a second time, and then paced across the room. Belial glanced at his watch.

Time for the show.

He went to another floor of his building, using the stairs Switch had so delicately made available to him. Opening the door he entered into a radio station getting ready to set up. He was the host of an AM radio station that came on soon.

Belial entered into one of the sound booths, nodding to his staff. He put on the headphones and waited for the queue from a manager. He got the green light and began to speak, his vocal tones smooth, reassuring, utterly mesmerizing.

"This is Xenophon, talking to you from the glorious city of Seattle. Welcome to the Power Hours, your talk show for mutants."

And on it went, attracting hands to dials like flies to lights.

He had over five million listeners worldwide. Five million men, women and children intent on listening to Belial's every word for just over two hours. Five million followers, mutants most of them, intent only on ending the fear and oppression they had grown up in.

It wasn't very healthy to listen to Belial for very long. Too long and you believed every word he said, would do anything he asked, would agree with his every view and contradiction. He only needed to voice a few words and he would have five million mutants at his beck and call.

It was an army Charles could never have even dreamt of controlling, not even with his mind and that of his assistant. But Belial, he could control a mob with a single syllable.

Belial had organized a power that no one could even begin to think about. It dwarfed the Brotherhood of Mutants a thousandfold.

He convinced them so absolutely that even psychics couldn't tell that he was using his power on them. He appealed to the emotions, to the heart, and didn't bother with a persons mind; it would follow whatever he said, simply because he said it.

Was it a scary notion?

Infinitely.

Was anyone scared?

The number was nonexistent. Simply because no one realized what was happening. Belial needed only one thing more. A figurehead. Someone the people already trusted. And it came to him in the form of his father's old organization. The X-Men.