There are times when the universe is quiet, when nothing great or terrible happens, when everything is at peace. That is not to say that incidents do not occur; a father of six may win the lottery, a mother of two may die, a town may get a new community centre or a young director may make the biggest film of the year. These things can all occur during those times when the universe is quiet and non-motile, but they are hardly worth mentioning. Good or bad, the world will not be affected. The lives of the individual or the few will not change anything.

Then there are times when the universe is not. The silent ebb and flow of time rushes forth in a great effort of movement and suddenly, everything that happens leads intrinsically into each other. These are the times when the flap of a butterfly's wings can cause a hurricane, or when a twitch of a rabbit's ear can lead to floods. These are times when everything happens in a dizzying rush of succession and the whole world is caught up in the flow.

This was undoubtedly one of those times.

From the moment the trial started, an uneasy ceasefire had been promised. No fighting had taken place for months as a new kind of war was born in the court of law, a war of words and facts, injustices and defences.

Logan had no place in that war, and neither did Victor. They were, for the first time since the fighting had started, out of the loop and useless. Not that they didn't still help out and they were still certainly told things, but this was never their forte and neither felt comfortable in a position like that. They took over the roles as guardians, making sure mutants were safe and happy—a role that was now redundant in everything but name since there was no more fighting, no more danger.

In such an important time, they were bored.


Logan woke up early one morning to find that the bed across from his, Victor's bed, was empty. Unlike the usual turn of events, where Victor would have his sheets thrown to the floor, in a heap that resembled a badger's nest, the bed was now made to the perfect standard of an army official. Surprised by the strange behaviour, Logan quirked a brow and ripped the covers off of himself, going to investigate the disappearance of his brother.

It was early. Victor, and now Logan, had risen before the sun. It was dark as Logan followed the scent of his brother out of their subterranean home and onto the quiet street. Victor was there, standing serenely amidst the early morning fog, staring out at the nothingness of the night sky.

Logan thought he might know why Victor was behaving as such.

He thought he knew, because it was possible he felt the same way.

Victor stiffened when Logan moved beside him; he had been so caught up in his thoughts, Logan's presences startled him. He looked over at his brothers knowing face and grimaced.

"It ain't what it looks like." Victor tried to explain, worried about his brother's reaction.

In truth, it was what it looked like. Victor wanted to return to the wild. That longing had hit Logan too. Their inner beasts had been dormant for too long and now they reared their heads at the thought of leaving their permanent residence in civilisation.

"It's okay, Victor." Logan replied, glancing up to the sky too.

It was hard to describe the feeling of being 'pulled' towards the wilderness. It was strong and demanding and as natural as anything they had ever done. Logan sometimes thought he could hear a wolverine's howl within the depths of his mind when he thought about returning to the wild. He was sure Victor experienced the same thing; since it was he who had always been more attuned to his inner animal.

Victor's face formed a scowl. "I don't know what you were thinkin' of," He said, "I was jus' thinkin' about what we had to do tomorrow—nothin' else."

He brushed past looking and began walking back.

Victor, for all the wrongs he had done over the years, went embarrassingly soft around his baby brother—even still. He knew this was Logan's place; with these people, fighting for this cause. He couldn't drag him away from the contentedness he had found in that life. How would he be able to live with himself? How would he be able to live with a resentful Logan? It wouldn't work. It was better to just quell whatever desire he had and leave well enough alone.

But Logan was never one to leave well enough alone and Victor knew there was no chance of that happening.

"You want to leave." Logan called after the retreating back of Victor.

Victor stopped and turned around with a hostile scowl. "The hell?" He asked, "Nah, I'm happy here, don't go projectin' yer feelin's onto me."

Logan's brow rose involuntary. He knew when Victor was lying, just like Victor knew when he lied. He sometimes didn't understand why they had to stumble around each other. Then again, it had always worked, so why not? So instead of voicing his opinion, Logan sighed, "It's gettin' stuffy around here ain't it?"

Victor frowned. He wondered if it meant what he thought it meant. "Yeah, I s'pose it is."

Logan continued, "Sometimes I think our... expertise might be put to better use somewhere else. We're not needed here."
"Ya think?" Victor murmured, feeling embarrassingly hopeful.

Logan nodded. "Sure. The situation in Europe's still pretty bad. What with all the destruction and all."

"That's fer sure."

"We were never talkers," Logan mused, "I reckon it'd be much better for us to use our physical strength in giving aid to people; ya know, rebuildin' towns and all that stuff."

"Too damn right. We're jus' rottin' away out here. Least that's the way I see it." He tried to keep the excitement from his voice, but it was hard. He hadn't stayed this long in one place since he had been in GENISIS. He needed to start moving again. Luckily, Logan did too—or at least he was humouring Victor enough to pretend.

Logan offered a small grin. Even after everything; the fights, the arguments, his amnesia—everything, it was still good to see Victor excited. Victor had done a lot for Logan over the years and the older he got the more Logan realised this. It was a debt that he could never repay, but he could at least ease it. As things were now, it was no big deal to pack their bags and leave. They weren't needed, they weren't necessary and there was no danger. Both Charles Xavier and Storm would understand and neither would condemn him for asking. If, for some reason, they disapproved then Logan would delay his plans and no harm would be done.

"I'll ask Chuck later to see if he's okay with it."

Victor nodded. For a moment he wanted to make a sarcastic remark about Logan being Xavier's little minion, but he realised that would be of no help to him in getting what he wanted. He stayed quiet. Besides, they weren't lone wolves anymore, they were a part of the X-men, it wouldn't be right to just pack up and leave without a word. Victor never thought he'd see the day when he cared about other people, but here it was. The last fifty years had changed him. He was turning more and more into his little brother as the days went by.

Victor almost groaned aloud at the thought of it.

"Well," Logan said, breaking his brother's thoughts, "I'm goin' back to bed. It's way too early fer me."

Victor nodded but opted to stay outside. "Go ahead, princess," He called out over his shoulder as his brother walked away, "Go and get yer beauty sleep. Wouldn't want you to get cranky now, would we?"

Logan didn't answer Victor's playful taunts but he was sure he heard his little brother mutter "Go to hell." As he disappeared inside.

Victor chuckled and went back to staring at the night sky.


If Charles Xavier had been surprised by Logan's request the next morning, he certainly didn't show it. With an infinite and infallible knowledge, Xavier had nodded stating that he had been expecting such a request and immediately granted an indefinite leave. They had left later that day, Victor saying goodbye to Sage and all the other people he had—grudgingly—learned to care about. Logan too took his time departing. Marie had been sad to see him go, but she was used to his ways by then and understood that such a disappearance was inevitable. They flew on one of the X-men's jets to Europe.

Victor and Logan got to work immediately. They were familiar enough with the continent to know the areas and so they wasted little time sight-seeing and stopping off in resorts. They got straight to work.

"Europe sure has changed." Victor muttered as he looked out the window of the passenger seat. He looking out at a huge banner that hung across the entrance of the village they were passing through. It said; "mutants welcome." It also said the same thing in Russian, German, French and Italian. These flags were commonplace around the continent now. Towns and villages hung their support on full display. Of course, not all of those flags were inspiring, some clearly stated that; "mutants will be persecuted" in all the same languages as those of the other flags. While it gave a very clear impression of a continent divided, it certainly did let them know where they stood when they passed through towns.

"No kiddin'" Logan answered eventually, "Wasn't even this bad during the war."

"Which one?"

Logan snorted, "Both."

"Won't argue with that," Victor muttered, "It's a bloody mess out there."

Europe had always been known for the preservation of the ancient civilisations; old buildings and new had always been integrated perfectly while the ruins were used to the point of exploitation as tourists flocked towards some of the best known remains. Yet now there were more ruins. The death of a more modern civilisation had occurred on these lands and some day there might even be businesses devoted solely to showing people around them.

"It's hard to believe things couldv'e gotten so bad here." Victor said with a sigh.

"It's the same as anywhere else, I reckon, we just remember this place being so different."

They were silent for a few moments as they drove through the village and continued on one of the roads that led through the Paris Basin.

"Hey Jimmy?" Victor asked,

Logan grunted as he swerved to avoid a branch that had fallen on the road.

"You remember the Battle of Sambre?" He asked with a smirk and a half-chuckle.

Logan laughed, "Yeah, I remember."

"That was fun." Victor said.

"Damn embarrassin', you mean."

"Yeah, that too."

The Battle of Sambre had been a hard battle—apparently. It was one of the great battles of World War I and a great many men had died on both sides that day. There may have been a few more or less had they actually showed up in the end. They hadn't meant to go AWOL. In fact, they had no desire to do so whatsoever. Not that their commanding officers had believed them. They had been called spineless cowards with no patriotism and a disgrace to their country. But it had not been cowardice that led to their absence, rather it had all boiled down to the bad map skills and poor orienteering methods of the two brothers. In short, they had gotten lost. They rarely travelled with the other soldiers and only caught up with them when the fighting was about to start, but on this occasion things had gone bottoms up and they arrived late. So late, in fact, that the battle was over.

Naturally, due to disobeying orders, they were both court marshalled and given to the firing squad to be shot at dawn. Needless to say, the bullets weren't nearly as effective as the British army might have hoped and their survival—and inhuman healing—had led to a few questions. Questions that neither Logan nor Victor had felt particularly inclined to answer. They had to skip out of the rest of the First World War soon after that.

"None of those antics now, though." Victor mentioned off-handedly.

"S'pose not."

"Damn..." Victor muttered, "I'll be mighty peeved if we don't get those medals after this. Bein' the model soldier ain't as easy as it looks. I deserve two damn medals at this stage."

"I'll be sure to mention that to Chuck when all this is over." Logan snickered.

"Be sure that you do." Victor agreed as he snuggled himself further down into the chair to get comfy.

They drove in silence until they came to the next village. It was a mutant friendly village and it was utterly ruined. There were a few buildings standing, but mostly people were living out of small, temporary housing that made the probably once quaint town look more like a shanty town in the middle of slum lands. The whole town, however, seemed to be working towards rebuilding the place, as every single person was busying themselves with one thing or other.

"Let's see if we can help." Logan suggested and Victor nodded.

Logan slowed the car to a stop and turned off the engine. Most people slowed what they were doing and snuck covert glances with slight suspicion over at the two newcomers.

"Here we go again." Victor said under his breath as they got out of the car to deal with another mistrustful village.


It was hard work, rebuilding a town from scratch. Hard work and a hell of a lot of hassle. Things were never simple during times of post-war. People were tired from worry and fear and in general, they couldn't seem to do a lot. Supplies were short and transport was not altogether perfect yet either, so really, even if they had been ready and willing to work, they would be constantly hindered by the lack of materials. Having the help of two fit, strong and energetic mutants, however, was a great help to the village people—or at least, that's what they all constantly claimed.

After years of being in the army, matched with their own already existing single-mindedness towards a task, Victor and Logan became extremely focused when working. They didn't take rest breaks or tea breaks; they took lunch and dinner on the go and worked full force until they stopped late into the night. They were, for all intents and purposes, a godsend, and by the end of their time there, anyone who had been undecided about mutants was decidedly pro-homo-superior.

It was on their last day in the small village that they were approached by the village mayor and his daughter. The mayor started speaking to them in rapid French with an excited tone. Logan and Victor stopped what they were doing and turned to the mayor, looking at him blankly as the man fired off foreign words at them as if a machinegun was stuck in his mouth. When the man finished speaking and started looking at them expectantly, Logan felt compelled to give some sort of answer.

"Uh..." He said as he scratched his head.

"My father says that we are grateful to the both of you for your work in rebuilding our town. He says that you are always welcome in our village and if you ever want anything from any of the villager's shops you make take it without giving money."

"You speak English?" Victor said, surprised. The mayor's daughter was a twenty-something year old that never spoke to anyone, in English or in French. She worked as hard as the next person but she was a stark contrast to the almost over-bearing friendliness of her father.

"Is it not clear?" She asked. There was no sarcasm in her voice, but they could both tell it was there.

"Tell your father that we're grateful fer the offer, but we didn't help to get a reward." Logan said, ignoring the girl's behaviour.

She actually appeared happier once Logan told her they weren't looking for free stuff and she started speaking as rapidly as her father in her native tongue. The man too, looked happy. Chuffed with the outcome he started speaking again and reached over to shake both Logan's and Victor's hands.

"What did he say?" Victor asked when the daughter didn't translate.

"He said you were..." She paused as she tried to translate the word, "Ah, comment-dit? ... 'Samaritans', I think, yes?"

"I guess." Logan shrugged.

"Yes, that is right. He says... you are living saints, for travelling around and helping people. He says that he will not forget the work you have done. The people of this town will tell anyone who comes through here, of the aid you have given to us." She didn't seem particularly overjoyed to be giving them compliments, for whatever reason, but her father's happiness seemed to negate her negative demeanour as he nodded along with what she was saying, as if he actually understood a word.

"Thanks."

The mayor smiled warmly, "De rien, de rien," He said and that was the last that Logan could understand as the man spoke faster and quieter then.

The girl sighed. "He says that you do not need to leave immediately. You can remain for as long as you want. This village will be your house for as long as you wish and these people will invite you warmly."

"We would," Victor said, "But there's a lot o' other people who need help, ya know?"

The girl nodded and surprisingly said, "Then I wish you bon chance, Samaritans." It was perhaps the first sincere thing she had said to them and they had no idea why. The mayor said goodbye to the brothers through his daughter then and from there, they made their separate ways. They didn't think they'd ever return to that little French village—and they were right, but strangely enough, it would later play a large role in the future of Logan and Victor.


They had travelled for days before they found another mutant-liking town and decided to offer their services. The town wasn't in nearly as bad a shape as the last one they had stopped in, but the people were happy enough to accept their help either way. Logan and Victor carried out the same process as before; working hard all day and resting only late into the night. Like before, it was appreciated. Their efficiency meant that they were soon finished rebuilding the town and though there was still some work to be done, the minor details would be left to the townsfolk. They decided to rest a day in the town before they carried on with their journey.

It was during that time that they got a call from Storm.

Logan looked down at his mobile phone as it vibrated in his hand and rang with an annoying tango tune. "It's Storm." He muttered.

"Well answer it," Victor demanded agitatedly, "I hate that damn music."

Logan let it ring once more out of spite before he answered it. "Storm?" He said, "Is everything alright?"

"Logan, it's good to hear from you; things have been dull without Victor around to threaten the kids."

Logan 'humphed' in amusement. "Yeah, I bet. So what's up? Has something gone wrong?"

"No, no, no. No, everything's fine, I just called to check up on you, see if you're still alright and to keep you informed on the latest new."

"Oh yeah? And what's that then?"

"Well, things are finally going our way. Things have been hard for us, these past six months, but finally, we've had a turn for the better."

"How'd you mean?"

"Well, as you know, our team of legal advisors told us to keep a few aces up our sleeves so that we didn't give the members of Project Wideawake time to devise some clever ploy to make the jury disregard all our evidence. So far, all we've shown them is the information from the mainframe you and Victor took from Monument Valley. This was sort of like an introduction to our case, is you will. We wanted to show the jury the dirty dealings of Project Wideawake, we wanted to establish it as corrupt. As we suspected, they gave an admirable defense and probably turned the majority of the jury against us. We've just spent these last few months making sure they didn't outright hate us. Now though, the information we've been keeping can come out. Soon we're going to bring Noah Carver to the stand and back him up with all of the tapes he made. They won't expect it and they won't be able to pull off anything more than a flawed attempt at defending. We've even secretly called for an expert to verify that the tapes are authentic and not tampered with. With this, it's possible we can finally end the war. We can go back to a peaceful co-existence."

"Yer sure this will work? I mean, Project Wideawake probably won't roll over and take this. They're sure to try somethin' ain't they?"

Storm was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "Yes, I was thinking along those lines myself, but really, what can they do that won't make them look even guiltier?"

Logan nodded, "Yeah, yer right. But that doesn't mean they still won't do somethin' stupid. Do you need us to come back?"

Victor looked up from the TV he was watching and regarded Logan unhappily. They might be going back? But he liked all that travelling. He didn't want to go back. Victor frowned, but didn't say anything and instead, he stuck to silently wishing Storm would not say yes.

"No. That's not necessary. You and Victor have already gone above and beyond the call of duty. No, you should stay where you are, keep what you're doing. It's quiet here, for now anyway, and we have plenty of capable people, so don't worry about it. Actually, since the trial started we've been receiving more outside support."

"Outside support?" Logan asked.

"Humans," Storm supplied, "They've been venturing to the city and giving us things. Most of the things are useless; casseroles and other homemade dishes, but it's the thought that counts. The token of support is much better than anything else. Of course, not everyone is on our side, but at least we know we have some supporters." Storm sighed in relief, "I must admit, it makes things so much easier. I never realised how hard it was to be truly hated until this war started."

Logan nodded, "Yeah, tough stuff, alright." He agreed, "It pretty much the same here; villages and towns are publicly showing if they're for or against mutants. It makes things easier."

"You mean with those banners and flags that they hang up?" Storm asked.

"Yeah, that's it."

"I saw them on the news," She said, "They've started to do it here too. Not every town, mind you, but there are a few who have taken the practice up. At this stage, it's mostly towns that are against mutants though. Still, it is helpful, I suppose."

"That's fer sure." Logan agreed.

"So, Logan, how are you keeping?" Storm changed the subject then, showing true, honest emotion in her voice.

"Not bad," He told her, "Haven't worked this hard fer years, to be honest. We've been goin' around mutant supportin' towns; helpin' to rebuild any damage that's been done or offerin' our services if there haven't been any. It's tirin', fer sure, but it's a helluva lot better than just sittin' around all day."

"I'm glad to hear that, Logan, it's good to see you happy."

"Thanks, Storm." Logan replied, slightly bemused.

There was a slight pause, "Well, anyway I have to go, it's time to start work here."

"Yeah, alright Storm, I'll talk to ya later then."

"Bye."

Logan hung up the phone and looked at it for a few moments. Storm was acting just slightly 'off'. He wondered what that was about. Hell, it probably wasn't much of a mystery; she was probably exhausted with everything that was going on.

"What was that about?" Victor asked in a bored voice, as if he hadn't heard practically every single word.

"Just business." Logan muttered, knowing Victor didn't really care.

Victor nodded. "Cool." He said as he changed the television station. By a strange coincidence, the channel Victor switched to was a documentary. It was in French and neither of them could understand the narrator but at that moment the scene changed to an interview with Eliza Murs, one of the heads of Project Wideawake. It wasn't an official interview; clearly a reporter had managed to catch her as she hurried down the steps of what looked like the court of justice. Although the program was in French, the interview had clearly been done by an American man. There were French subtitles down the bottom as they spoke.

"How can you justify all that money that's been moved around from bank to bank?" The reporter asked, shoving a microphone into Ms. Murs' face.

She looked extremely angry and disgusted. It showed up easily on her face and ruined whatever beauty she had under all the plastic surgery.

"Anything that we at Project Wideawake have done," She answered, "Has been done with the best interests of our country in mind. We are not a selfish organization and saying as such is a ludicrous statement."

The reporter grunted before continuing to ask his questions, "And what about what the X-men have said? They accused you of starting this war for your own monetary gain. What of that?"

Eliza Murs sneered, "I don't care what the 'X-men' say about us," she said their name as if it tasted foul in her mouth, "We have done no such thing and these false allegations against us are simply heinous. It is a crime that we have been accused of such things when the 'X-men' themselves have given very little evidence for half of what they claim."

"So you claim to be innocent then?" The reporter asked.

Ms. Murs nodded, "We have never acted out of selfish means and never will. The rest of the board and I are good people. Storm and her 'X-men' are simply looking for a scapegoat. We do not deserve such treatment."

"Just one more thing—" The reported tried, but was interrupted.

Murs held up her hand. "I'm busy, you've already taken too much of my time. Excuse me." She hurried away then, the camera took a few seconds to follow her retreating form before the scene changed again and Victor lost interest. He turned off the TV.

"I was watchin' that." Logan complained.

Victor scowled, "You can't understand a word of it. Like hell you'd even be interested in ten minutes. I'm bloody tired. I'm goin' to bed."

Logan watched as Victor climbed into one of the single beds in the room they were staying in. He watched as Victor snuggled under the covers and turned his back to his brother. Logan sighed and proceeded to do the same.

But sleep didn't come. Logan wondered about what he saw; this woman, Eliza Murs, was one of the top people of Project Wideawake. She one of the faces of the devil that had haunted the mutant race for years. It wasn't like he was new to experiencing the human race's actions, but he was disturbed to find the everyday common appearance of someone who had condemned a whole species to death.

Logan lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to clear his thoughts and relax his body so that he could finally get some well deserved rest. But sleep didn't come for a long time that night and the words of Eliza Murs whirled around in his head restlessly.


At that same time, thousands of kilometers away, the heads of Project Wideawake were sitting in a meeting room, arguing about what should happen next.

"There has to be more to their offence than just what they've been using, no one is stupid enough to take us on head to head like that." Richard Luxor was saying.

"Nonsense," Chester Conrad denied, "They're mutants; I'm amazed they can even manage to navigate the legal system on their own."

There were one or two sniggers at Conrad's joke but Fabian Slavko frowned, "I wouldn't underestimated them," He warned, "Their leaders are strong and smart, think of Ororo Monroe and the newly rediscovered Charles Xavier—people said that he was dead. We have to be careful."

"I wouldn't worry about Ororo Monroe," Eliza Murs sneered in an ugly way, "She's all appearance, but she has nothing up here." She pointed to her forehead.

Charlotte Vulpes spoke next, "What about that assassin, is there any way we could be connected to him?"

Senator Harvey was on loudspeaker as he had been unable to attend. He was calling from his office. "We've tried to track down the assassin ourselves," Harvey answered his colleague's question, "But he's hidden himself deep. Rest assured; if we can't find him, the X-men sure as hell can't. Besides, they don't even know that we were behind that assassinations, they still think it was a group of rogue mutants."

"That's true. I don't think we have anything to worry about." Said Senator Kent.

The only man not to speak had been sitting at the head of the table quietly. Rubbing his chin as he considered the situation. His name was Elton Rosewood. He was an older man, with thin white hair that sat upon almost translucent skin on his head. He had bruises on his hands and neck and age spots on his face and scalp. His eyes, over the years, had whitened due to cataracts and his neck seemed to slump into his shoulders. He was old, and his body was as decrepit as it could be without failing altogether, yet his mind was as sharp as it had ever been.

"The mutants pose no threat." He said finally, in a voice that suggested he had had a stroke sometime in the past, "We will continue on with our plans. It is unfortunate that we cannot actively do anything while this trial is on, but we can be prepared for when it does."

"But our funding…" Fabian Slavko tried to say.

"Nonsense!" Elton Rosewood spluttered, wiping a sliver of drool that escaped past his slightly numb lips with the sleeve of his expensive suit. "The government has cut our funding," He said, "They have not gotten rid of it altogether. We must take things at a slower pace that is all."

"And the assassin? Should we put our resources into finding him?"

"The assassin is no threat, he is a professional; he knows how to keep his mouth shut. But if he does raise his head from whatever gutter he's been hiding in; arrange to have him killed. I'd rather not have him hanging around with that sort of information."

"Yes sir." They all agreed in quiet tones.

"This meeting is dismissed." Elton Rosewood said as he struggled pathetically to get out of his chair. When he managed to stand up he opted for another seat; that of the motorized cart that he drove around in. It had an oxygen mask attached to it that he quickly put over his mouth and wheezed into. He drove the machine out of the main doors.

Slowly, the members of the board began to file out until there was only the speaker phone of Senator Harvey, Eliza Murs and Chester Conrad. They spoke lowly, but loud enough so that Senator Harvey could hear everything they said on his phone.

"The old man's not long for this world." Conrad said.

Eliza Murs nodded. "Not long, no." She agreed, "But he can still be a thorn in our sides in the limited amount of time he had left."

"Well what can we do about it? He's the boss. At the end of the day, he has last word."

"Perhaps we should… 'help' him on his journey." Murs suggested conspiratorially.

Chester Conrad grinned but Senator Harvey sounded horrified, "You're talking about murder!" He exclaimed.

Murs rolled her eyes. "Give it a rest." She said, "It's not like it's the first time you've been involved in a murder plot. David Hewitt was hardly beyond your knowledge."

"No, of course not, we all knew about Hewitt. But he was necessary, this…"

"Is also necessary. "Conrad interjected, "The old man is like a disease; he destroys everything he touches. He'll ruin everything we've planned."

"How?" Harvey asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Murs scoffed. "He's not interested in this Project like we are. He's only interested in gaining money to find a cure for the many terminal diseases in his body. He's not interested in getting rid of those… creatures like we are. For the good of the company, I say we take Rosewood out."

"Here, here." Conrad agreed.

There was a tense moment of silence while they waited for Senator Harvey to speak, "For the good of the company." He agreed hesitantly.

"Excelent." Murs said, "We are one step closer then."

"How do we kill Rosewood?" Conrad asked eagerly.

Eliza Murs smirked. "Leave that to me; I know people that can get me poisons that will make it look like he died from a heart attack. The only thing keeping me from administering the drug to the old coot this minute is that we've had to take precautions to ensure our anonymity."

"What about the rest of the board, though?" Harvey asked, "What will happen to us if they find out we killed Mr. Rosewood? We're bound to be next."

"They won't find out, Harvey." Conrad sneered.

"They will." Murs answered nonchalantly.

Conrad's eyes flickered towards her in a sudden motion of panic. Before he could ask what was going on, Senator Harvey beat him to it. "But we'll be killed! What's going on? I thought it was supposed to look like a heart attack."

"It will," Eliza Murs said with a confident nod, "It needs to look natural for the outside world. So that no one is suspicious and there's no police investigation; Lord knows we don't need any more attention on us. But in here, this is our world, we control it. Some of the other board members can be turned. Those who can't will be killed. As it is, with Rosewood out of the picture, that leaves seven us. We only need one more person on our side to be in the majority. Any other members will either have to join us or die."

"Who can we turn?" Harvey asked.

A small, sly grin touched Chester Conrad's lips. "You're good friends with Senator Kent, aren't you?" He asked.

"You want me to turn him?" Harvey asked, almost incredulously. It shouldn't have been that surprising, really, but he was still shocked.

"Of course, we do," Answered Eliza Murs, "You think you can just sit there and not help out with our plan? Your loyalty isn't enough; we need your participation too."

"I understand," said Senator Harvey, gloomily, "He shouldn't be too hard to turn; he has often expressed concerns for Mr. Rosewood's capabilities. Just… give me a few days. He's stubborn, and if it sounds like I'm preaching to him he won't accept."

"That's fine, Senator." Murs replied.

"Who do you think will accept our preposition?" Harvey spoke again after a moment.

"I don't think it will take much to convince Luxor—provided we have the majority, that's for sure." Conrad said.

"Vulpes will never agree to it." Murs said confidently, "She's practically in the old man's right hand. It's better to have her out of the way than to worry about her later."

"But Slavko?" Conrad mused.

"It's difficult to say with Slavko." Harvey muttered. "He's loyal by nature, and I think he has feelings for Vulpes."

"We'll give him his chance." Eliza Murs said quickly, "If he says 'no', then we'll have our answer. Now, gentlemen, "She said as she stood up, "I have an appointment to get to. Excuse me."

She exited quickly out of the room.

"It's good to know that we have someone capable to lead us in the cause." Senator Harvey noted.

Chester Conrad snorted. "She doesn't care about 'the cause' any more than Rosewood does. She's as much in it for the money as him. I wouldn't be surprised if the only reason she's even planned this little revolt is to cut the money she has to share with the rest of us."

"If you knew this, why would you follow her?"

Conrad gave a cold smile, "Because she's ruthless enough to actually be a good leader. She wants money and we want to get rid of mutants. For the moment our paths run parallel to each other."

"But what happens when our paths diverge?"

"She'll betray us." Conrad said easily, with complete confidence. "Or she'll try to kill us. People like her always do."

Harvey grunted. "We'll have to be on guard then. There'll come a day when we'll no longer be useful to her." He said.

"My thoughts exactly." Conrad muttered. "But now isn't the right moment to talk about this; we have plenty of time, don't worry, we'll devise some sort of plan."

"You're right, friend. I should go. Senator Kent won't convince himself to betray Mr. Rosewood."

"Yes. Goodbye, Senator." Conrad too, left the room.

It took another moment for Senator Harvey to hang up the phone with a click.


Hundreds of kilometers away from that, two people sat in a small, but comfortable office. One was a man and the other was a woman. The woman was dark skinned with white hair, she was a mutant, she was the previous leader of the X-men and she was silent. That was Storm. She looked down at the device in her hands before clicking the 'off' button that stopped the recording. The man in the room had pale skin, brown hair and was in a body much too young for him, he was also the current leader of the X-men. That was Charles Xavier. He watched Storm push the button with thoughtful eyes.

They had heard everything that happened in that meeting thanks to the bug that Noah Carver had placed on Senator Harvey's phone. Everything was as clear and audible as if they had been in the room themselves. With such a great amount of knowledge, it took a little while to digest. So they sat in silence for a while, wondering what to do with this new information.

"If nothing else," Storm said finally, "We can use this as conspiracy of murder. That means we can get at least three of the Project Wideawake board members put into prison."

"Yes." Xavier agreed. "We could do that."

"We also have to inform Noah Carver that he's in danger from them. I'll arrange to send a message for him to stay low until the trial."

"Yes, do that." He agreed again.

"We could use this as a piece of evidence our main trial too," Storm continued, "It shows that Eliza Murs and Elton Rosewood were purely in this for money. It will further back up Noah's statement and his own tapes."

"A good idea." Xavier said.

Storm sighed, "What are you thinking?" She asked, knowing his head was somewhere far away.

"Ah, forgive me, Storm." He apologized, " I really do agree with you that we need to do everything you suggested, but those three people they were talking about, Charlotte Vulpes, Fabian Slavko and Elton Rosewood, will be dead in a few days, we have to do something to save them."

Storm nodded, "But if we show them the tape, they'll know we've been listening in on them. It could ruin our upper hand. We can't risk the lives of millions for three people. The same three who started this war in the first place."

"We have to forgive their actions and move on. At the end of the day, they're still people."

"How can I forgive them, Charles?" Storm asked with a melancholy sigh, "They've condemned us to death, they'd see us extinct. For no other reason than money and their 'cause'."

"I can't agree with your view, but I understand it, Storm. However, if it is in our power to help these people, we can't stand by and let them die."

"Yes, you're right. What do you think we should do?"

"I think we should anonymously send this tape to the media. They won't be able to help themselves but to publish it. That way, although people may suspect it was us, they'll never have any proof. Not to mention the members of Project Wideawake will be alerted and it will further help our cause of showing just how corrupt and amoral they are."

Storm thought about it for a moment. "Yes," She said eventually, "Okay. I'll arrange for someone to drop it off and then I'll ring Noah and tell him to watch his back from Project Wideawake."

"Thank you Storm."

Storm stood up. "I hope this works." She said softly as she walked out of the room.

"I do too." Charles Xavier admitted to the empty office.

The months that followed were hectic. Despite Noah Carver's prediction, Christmas came and went without any sign of the war ending. The trial took longer than they ever could have imagined and the news of the daily happenings assimilated into the everyday lives of the world. People would come home from work and turn on the news. They would then discuss what was happening with their spouse or partner, parents or friends. Sometimes people wondered what they did before the war started and the great trial took place. People began to take sides, pro or against mutants. Yet as the trial went on, more and more people began to come over to the side of 'pro mutants'.

When the tape of Project Wideawake's betrayal of each other made it to the ears of the public there was anger, hatred and riots. People who had believed their words were now as betrayed as the board members who were supposed to be killed. After the riots had calmed down and it was safe to walk the streets again, a most peculiar thing happened.

It was a muggy summer's night when Storm and Charles Xavier were running through the next day's trial with Noah Carver that they heard a knock on the door.

"Come in." The professor said.

Marie entered, looking uncertain. "There's someone here ta see yah." She said.

They shared a glance. Who had come to see him? Very few people would need to be introduced to feel welcome, so who could it be?

Marie took an uneasy step back outside and two people entered; a man and a woman. Immediately, Noah Carver and Storm were on their feet defensively.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Carver demanded, fingering a knife in his pocket.

"You!" Fabion Slavko of Project Wideawake exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Charlotte Vulpes put a hand on her colleague's shoulder. "It doesn't matter." She said, "We know you have no reason to trust us, but we can help you."

"How?"

"We're willing to testify against Project Wideawake. We'll tell the court everything."

"Why are you helping us?"

"We were betrayed, you heard the tape." Slavko ground out.

Xavier nodded, "But why now, why not months ago when the tape was released."

Vulpes sighed. "We ran away from the organisation when we heard the tape. Mr. Rosewood helped us out by taking us with him on his private jet. We've always been loyal to him and he, in turn, saved our lives. But last week..." Her voice shook and she stopped talking.

Fabian Slavko took over, "He died." He said grimly, "Mr. Rosewood asked us before he passed away that we get those traitors away from his company, that we avenge him. This is how we've decided to do it."

"If you testify, you'll be admitting to all of your crimes. You could go to prison." Storm said.

"The same goes for him." Vulpes challenged.

"I'm doing this for my family." Noah said defensively.

"And so are we." Slavko answered.

To explain, Vulpes elaborated. "Mr. Rosewood was like a father to us. He took us in when we were kids. We were living on the streets before that. We owe him everything. The rest of the board never knew what he had done for us and they could never understand why were so loyal to him. We don't hate mutants. Neither did Mr. Rosewood. As terrible as it sounds, he just saw a business opportunity and went with it."

There was a long stretch of silence, so long that the two members of Project Wideawake felt the need to start defending their case again. They were about to speak when Xavier beat them to it.

"You're sure you're both willing to testify?"

They nodded. "We can do it tomorrow if that's what you want." Slavko said.

"In that case, welcome to the X-men."


The next day had been the day they were waiting for. Their lawyer called up Noah Carver to the stand. There were gasps of shock and awe as the man appeared with a cocky swagger and swore to "tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth". They knew his name at this stage, the men and women of the jury and the members of the gallery and his presence made more than one person shiver in fear. In his defence, he really did speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. He told the court clearly and confidently that he had killed David Hewitt under the employment of Project Wideawake. The tapes he had made were also put on display and he answered flawlessly any questions that were given to him by the frazzled defence. When asked why he would throw away his career, he even mentioned that someone very close to him was a mutant. When they could think of no more questions he was allowed to sit down. Then they called the next witness up to the stand, Charlotte Vulpes. If Noah Carver had surprised people with his presence, Charlotte certainly shocked them.

Again, she answered questions like clockwork, giving clear and precise answers that damned Project Wideawake more and more with every word. She spoke of their plans, of their betrayals and of their reason's for everything. Later, Fabian Slavko did the same. By the end of the day, Project Wideawake looked as if they were to be decimated.

Yet appearances were not everything and when the jury was asked by the judge to consider everything they heard and to come to a decision, the whole courtroom was tense. It took four hours for the jury to decide the verdict. When they came back into the room, the air was downright non-existent in the room. Storm could barely breathe as she watched in apprehension. Xavier was wringing his hands unconsciously and the remaining members of Project Wideawake that were on trial looked pale and frightened.

Eventually, the spokesperson for the jury stood up and cleared his throat.

"After much deliberation," He, a middle-aged man, said, "We of the jury found the defendant to be guilty."

There was a surreal moment of stillness before it was broken by the heart-wrenching scream of Eliza Murs as she tried to deny the verdict.

Storm almost wept as she chocked on her own relief and Xavier closed his eyes gratefully. The courtroom exploded in applause and cheers as the members of Project Wideawake were sentenced to top security prisons for the rest of their days. They were then dragged out of the room by the burly bailiffs, all the while screaming and shouting at the mutants in the room and cursing the justice system.

"Congratulations, Storm." Professor Xavier said softly before people rushed forward to shake their hands.

"Congratulations, Charles." Storm whispered, though her words were drowned by the sounds of the cheering crowds.

The news spread around the world in seconds. Soon, people would start to call that day, the 25th of June by the name P Day, Peace Day. But that wouldn't happen for another little while. At that moment, Storm and Charles Xavier left the courtroom with their heads held high, walking outside to finally address the reporters as free people.

Storm stood to the side as Xavier gave a speech that would undoubtedly go down in history.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the world," Xavier spoke into the many microphones on the small podium, "Today I stand before you, not as a mutant or a human, but as a man, a free person. Mutants have suffered a great deal over the years, but that is the past. Today, a new world has been created, a new world where we can begin again, reassess our views and change our perspectives. We still have a lot of work to do—and it will not be easy, but we will succeed, we will rise above these obstacles and we will triumph."

In Belgium, Logan and Victor were watching the speech from the TV in their room. Xavier's speech had been broadcasted all over the world, on every channel.

"We do not wish to make demands," Xavier continued, "We want integration, we want unity and we want peace. We will relinquish our hold on Massachusetts and go back to living as we had before this war broke out. It is my hope that there will be no place that is taboo for man or mutant to cross. We have already achieved so much in this world, together with our forces combined, we can go even further, we can push the boundaries of what we thought we could and could not do. It is my profound wish that above all else, today will be the day that marks a reform in our society, the event which led us to overcome our greatest obstacle yet; ourselves. Now, standing here before you, I will make a promise; I swear to not rest until my wish has come true and we have consolidated an era of peace. Thank you for your time and your support."

Logan and Victor watched the television screen as Xavier stepped down off of the podium and he and Storm made their way through the cheering crowds and disappeared into their car.

Eventually, the scene changed to a panel of 'professionals' that were discussing the impact of today's events. Victor mindlessly turned off the TV. They had heard enough. They sat in silence for a very long time, the clock on the wall the only thing to break up the time spent without purpose.

Finally, Victor stood up, went to his bag and took out two beer bottles. Wordlessly, he handed one to Logan, who took it in silence.

"Happy Peace Day, little brother." Victor said as he popped the cap off and raised his bottle.

"Happy Peace Day, Victor." Logan replied, clinking the end of his bottle off of Victor's.

They both took a long swig.

It was over.

At long last.

Okay, that's it. Hope you enjoyed it. There's going to be one more post, a short epilogue and then this story will be finally finished after a whole year. It's actually kinda sad for me; I'm going to miss writing this. Anyway, tell me what you think.