Charles remained calm, fully in control of his emotions despite the chaos in here. He clearly wasn't a man easily shaken, and his mental manipulation did calm everyone down enough to listen calmly.
Even if I feared that they would likely go back on anything discussed here due to fear that they had agreed because of his powers.
No doubt one of the reasons his pleas never amounted to anything, and collaboration remained but a distant dream.
After all, it wouldn't be hard to imagine anyone immediately doubting their own thoughts after meeting him, and ending up doing the opposite of whatever they agreed on, simply because they believed themselves wise enough to have seen through his manipulation, even if there were none.
Yet, despite surely knowing that, he never stopped trying. Utterly foolish— not even the Maiden of Orléans was that saintly.
"I do not come to stop justice. Nor to shield those who are guilty. But I would hope to remind everyone present that fear is a poor guide for action — and an even worse justification for murder."
Tony muttered, "Does anyone else feel like we needed him about thirty seconds earlier?"
Clint whispered back, "I feel like we needed him about thirty bodies earlier."
Xavier turned, then addressed me directly:
"Your Majesty… you have invited me here to represent my people. And for that, you have my gratitude, but I can't let my people be connected to more senseless murder."
He inhaled softly.
"Then allow me to be plain:
You have already won.
Authority. Fear. Respect. The truth. All of it is yours to command.
You do not need more bodies on this floor."
Loki scoffed sharply. "She does not need them — she deserves them."
Thor frowned. "Brother—"
Loki snapped, "Silence. These mortals attempted to kill her. They attempted to kill me. They attempted to kill the Avengers. They attempted to kill their own city."
A whisper of agreement passed through the knights.
Xavier's tone remained calm.
"And now," he said, "they fear the consequences. As they should."
He turned slowly to the politicians.
"But fear can be… directed. Channeled. Shaped toward something better than this room becoming a tomb."
The President flinched.
Tony leaned over to Steve and whispered,
"Okay, he's like… terrifyingly reasonable."
Steve whispered back, "That's called leadership."
Loki rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please spare me."
Charles shifted slightly in his chair.
"But hear me clearly, Mr. President."
His voice sharpened, that of a leader.
"This is the fairest moment you will ever receive. Arthuria Pendragon has graced you with her presence, saved your nation, and offered you a chance to answer before she renders judgment."
The room froze again.
Charles faced me once more.
"I ask only this:
Let them speak.
Not because they deserve mercy —
but because we deserve truth."
I stared at him in silence.
He held my gaze without averting his eyes, without bowing his head further, without trembling.
And I thought—
My Saber self would have liked him.
My Ruler self considers him naïve.
My Lancer self sees him as a man clinging to ideals one war too late.
But one truth remained:
He wasn't wrong.
I spoke at last.
"Very well, Charles Xavier."
The room seemed to inhale as one.
"You may assist."
Though before anyone could calm down, Excalibur Morgan appeared in my hand, a blade of pure evil, pure bloodlust, and filled the room with a desire for slaughter and pure madness.
"But don't misunderstand me:
Lies will not be tolerated.
Evasion will not be tolerated.
Cowardice will not be tolerated."
Everyone once more held their breath.
"You will not run from this, nor from your words. If a man's word can't be believed, he is no man at all."
The President whimpered.
And I dismissed my blade again, letting the room be freed from its darkness and evil. "Let us begin."
Silence lingered like a fog after Excalibur Morgan vanished —
a clinging stain of dread that no one could shake.
The politicians sat rigid, still half-expecting their lungs to stop working simply because the sword had wanted them to.
Only Charles Xavier appeared steady.
He drew in a slow breath, folding his hands politely atop the armrest of his chair.
"Very well," he said. "Let us begin with the simplest question."
His eyes shifted toward the President — gentle, calm, yet impossibly invasive.
"Who gave the order?"
A shudder rippled through the room.
The President's lips trembled. "I… I was advised—"
"Ah-ah," Johnny Storm cut in, raising a finger. "Already sounds like a lie. Just saying."
Sue elbowed him sharply. "Johnny, not now."
"What? He started with the classic guilty-people-stalling line."
"Johnny," Reed murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, "please stop helping."
Mordred snorted. "At least he's pointing out the obvious."
Sir Ector nodded. "Aye. He is a fool, but he is not wrong."
Johnny blinked. "Hey!"
Xavier continued without missing a beat.
"You were advised. That much is true. But who gave the order? Who spoke the words?"
The President swallowed again. Sweat rolled down the side of his face.
"I—I signed the authorization, but the recommendation came from—"
A senator cut him off.
"Mr. President, with all due respect, you cannot place this on national security personnel when we—"
Charles' head tilted.
"Senator Matthews. Interesting that you speak before being named."
The senator went pale.
Beside him, Tony whispered loudly,
"Oof. Psychic sniping. That's gotta sting."
Clint leaned closer to Natasha. "Kinda scary how fast he jumped in. Man's guilty conscience is faster than my draw."
Natasha folded her arms. "Typical. The louder the politician, the bigger the guilt."
Reed stepped forward cautiously. "Mr. Xavier, are you… reading them?"
Charles offered Reed a pleasant smile. "I wouldn't read their minds; such is an invasion of privacy. But over the years of being around children, I have learned to pick up emotions quite well, and putting two and two together isn't difficult here."
The President looked rapidly between Xavier and the senator.
"I—It wasn't me alone. It wasn't. I had assurances that—"
Loki leaned lazily on Gungnir.
"Fascinating. A king who blames his council when the crops fail. How very mortal."
Thor sighed heavily. "Brother…"
"What? Should I pretend he is admirable?" Loki scoffed. "He agreed to obliterate his own capital the moment fear pinched his spine."
"He acted in panic," Thor said. "Mistaken, yes. But—"
"Panic is the privilege of the powerless," Loki snapped. "Not of kings."
The room flinched.
Xavier pressed gently forward.
"Mr. President. Let us return to the question. Who convinced you that none of your heroes could succeed?"
The President's breath hitched.
His gaze flicked — involuntarily, desperately — toward the far-left corner of the room.
Everyone followed his eyes.
A man in a dark suit stiffened.
Reed squinted. "Who is that?"
Tony recognized him instantly. "Senator Stern. He really wanted my suit. He is deeply connected to the military."
Tony recognized him instantly — and groaned.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Senator Stern."
He dragged a hand down his face. "This guy wanted to confiscate my suit, sue me, and probably tax me for breathing too loudly. Deep ties to the military-industrial complex. Whole career built on fearmongering."
Clint muttered, "So… shocker that he pushed for the nuke, huh?"
"Not shocking," Natasha corrected. "Predictable."
Stern bristled, opening his mouth—perhaps to deny everything, perhaps to save himself by throwing someone else under the bus.
He never got the chance.
Because the doors behind Xavier slid open again.
Not a knock this time.
A click.
A soft squeak of hinges.
And in rolled the one man in the world who could walk into a blood-soaked room full of terrified politicians and disgruntled gods like he was entering a staff meeting that was running ten minutes behind schedule.
Nick Fury.
Black coat. One eye. One expression:
"I've seen worse, and I'm already tired."
He surveyed the carnage, stepping over a severed hand without breaking stride.
"...Well," Fury said dryly. "Looks like y'all started without me."
Tony threw up his hands. "Fury—finally! Where the hell have you been?"
"Cleaning up your mess," Fury said. "And preventing this from becoming World War Three."
Loki scoffed. "My guess on looting, grabbing as much of the spoils as he can get."
"And I wouldn't be the only one. Everyone wants alien tech and blood, and I can't allow the wrong people to get it." Fury didn't bother to hide anything.
Or at least, I figured he was hiding one thing by telling us all something we already knew. He was too smart to not always be doing something sneaky.
He stepped past Xavier's wheelchair, giving Charles a curt nod.
"Professor. Appreciate the calm field you're putting up."
A beat.
"And I'd appreciate even more if you keep it steady. These people look like they're one bad cough away from a stampede."
Charles inclined his head. "I will do what I can."
Fury moved to stand beside the President — not protectively, but possessively, as if the man was a chess piece he intended to move himself.
Then he turned toward Arthuria.
"If I may, Your Majesty."
My gaze slid toward him.
Fury did not flinch.
He was afraid — a sane man would be — but he buried it beneath the steel of a man who refused to die crawling.
"Speak," I said.
Fury clasped his hands behind his back like he was briefing a general.
"I'm not here to defend them," he said, jerking his head toward the President and the cowering politicians. "They screwed up. Big. They panicked. They nearly killed a city and everyone who saved it."
The President shrank in his seat.
"But," Fury continued, "we still have a planet to run. And right now, the only people who stopped that invasion are standing behind you."
Tony smirked, crossing his arms. "Nice of you to finally say it out loud."
Fury ignored him.
"We need structure. We need unity. We need the Avengers—" he glanced at the Fantastic Four, "—and anyone else who stepped up—to be recognized, supported, and properly coordinated."
Loki raised a brow. "Coordinated? You think you can command them?"
"I think," Fury replied evenly, "that without organization, Earth's defense will fall apart again the next time a hole opens over our heads."
Ben Grimm nodded slowly. "He ain't wrong…"
Johnny piped up, "Yeah, but are we talking like… team jackets? A salary? Dental? Because if we're suddenly government employees—"
Sue slapped the back of his head. "JOHNNY, NOT NOW."
Fury pressed on.
"The Avengers need to be official. Not rogue. Not ad hoc."
His one eye narrowed.
"A sanctioned, internationally recognized task force. Resources. Authority. Backing. Oversight."
Tony scoffed. "Oversight? Ah, yes. There it is. I was waiting for the sales pitch."
Fury didn't deny it.
"Stark, the world is terrified. They saw aliens tear through New York. They saw gods fight above their heads. They saw Arthuria descend from the sky. People are panicking, nations are mobilizing, and half the world thinks you're about to either conquer Earth or blow it up by accident."
Natasha gave a quiet, grim nod. "He's not exaggerating."
Fury turned to the U.S. officials.
"And you," he growled, "need to stop hiding behind excuses and start acting like leaders. Because right now, your best hope of survival is not the nukes you cling to like pacifiers—"
He pointed at Steve, Tony, Sue, Reed, Johnny, Ben, Bruce, Clint, and Natasha.
"—it's them."
No one dared argue.
Xavier watched carefully, mind working behind his calm expression.
Thor crossed his arms, golden hair swaying slightly. "This Fury speaks wisely. Midgard needs its warriors united."
Loki smirked. "For once, you and I agree, dear brother. A remarkable day."
"I agree with much you said," I finally spoke up. "But your wish for oversight — that shall not be you, nor them." I pointed at the officials. "The strong should not follow the weak, the brave not obey the fearful. These people have proven they can't act when needed."
Fury sighed. "I knew it wouldn't be that easy. What are you thinking then?"
I couldn't help but smile.
"The Illuminati."
(End of chapter)
Support me at patreon.com/unknownfate - for the opportunity to read up to 30 chapters ahead.