Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, and agent of SHIELD, had stayed around in Camelot for almost a full year now. Officially, she was on a mission, but it didn't feel like it. She got to live with her sister, whom she reconnected with.
It wasn't easy, it wasn't smooth, but time heals all wounds. That and the hope of true healing by serving their new king had all the other girls from the Red Room slowly come around to Natasha.
She was sure some still blamed her for running away, blamed her for the extra cruelty they experienced after her escape, but for Yalena's sake, they allowed her around them.
This allowed Natasha to see how their work had changed. From assassins in the dark to the elite operatives in a legitimate government. Or as legitimate as Albion could be.
Life in Camelot was very different from what life was like in the rest of the world. As someone who has moved around a lot and experienced pretty much everything the world had to offer, she thought she knew the world.
Camelot was just different. No place in the world was like it. There was a rare kind of peace here, even though the city was filled with life. Though it did take some time getting used to having electricity now.
Even if there were plenty of people with large batteries hidden away to power their things, there were still special things that came from that.
The physical newspaper was popular like never before. Young teens would earn money selling them at street corners. Radios were popular as well, given that they could work on normal batteries.
All in all, life in Camelot was a lot like she imagined it would be, living in a theme park that really stuck to the theme.
Living with Yalena was interesting, given that she was basically Fury's counterpart in Camelot, in charge of secret intelligence. And Natasha herself working for Fury, basically here to spy on her.
Yalena wasn't foolish enough not to know that. She had fed Natasha plenty of information, key among them the fact that Arthuria and Mordred are both women.
And that was just one bit of information.
Still, could all the information be trusted? Likely not, and Natasha too had to talk about what she was doing, giving Yalena information about SHIELD.
Fury knew it, he accepted it, and there was a high-level game of intelligence and counterintelligence going on with Natasha in the middle.
Today, Camelot and the entire world woke up to a series of shocking news. Everyone who turned on the TV, the radio, or looked at the front page of the newspaper couldn't pull their focus away, because everything they heard was unbelievable.
Thanks to Yalena's job, she had a TV and access to channels from around the world. And as such, she could watch news from all the big countries around the world, though she did enjoy the BBC.
It was the national station in Albion, owned by the crown, and had improved a lot since the change of ownership.
The BBC anchor, a sharply dressed woman with a polished, precise British accent, was speaking quickly, the words spilling out of her mouth like water over a broken dam, the urgency of the situation clear even through the slightly distorted, tinny audio.
"...in what experts are calling a historic moment, our King showed up at yesterday's UN meeting, and revealed her face for the first time. Yes, you heard correctly, her face, our beloved King, is revealed to be a woman!"
Natasha leaned back against the couch, she could hear people talking loudly outside in the streets, discussing the same news. She too had been shocked when she learned of it, and well. The rest of Albion and the world were no less shocked.
"We reached out to the King for comment, and while the palace declined to comment, we were told that the King plans to speak out on the issue, and will likely hold an interview sometime soon."
While Natasha didn't mind having a woman in charge, she understood the shock, she too had been surprised when she learned it, after all, according to legend King Arthur is a man, yet clearly the legends are wrong.
She reached for the small, battered remote on the table beside her, flipping to another channel – CNN, this time, the American news station crackling into life with a brief burst of static before the familiar, confident tones of the anchor filled the room.
"...and in a related development, the ruler of Latveria, Victor von Doom, has also declared his nation's independence from the United Nations, citing the organization's 'hypocrisy' and 'incompetence' as justification for the sudden break.
Meanwhile, the mutant leader known as Magneto has issued a public statement demanding recognition and rights for the mutant population, effectively declaring a global movement for mutant sovereignty..."
Natasha frowned, her fingers tightening slightly around the remote as she absorbed this new piece of the puzzle. Doom, Arthuria, Magneto – three new power blocs, each with their own agenda, their own ambitions, their own visions for the future of the world.
She didn't know much about Doom, other than he was reckless to do something like that. Making himself a target for the entire world, she wasn't sure if he was a fool or an utter genius.
Because, while many talked about those things, what caught her attention was mostly Magneto's crazy actions.
He had kept the entire UN as hostages while demanding that the Mutants be freed. And all night, mutants had been freed from some secret labs and prisons. Magneto didn't care if they were innocent or prisoners.
As long as they were mutants, they were above normal humans, and as such, they had no right to punish them.
It was an insane act; he made countless enemies, and everyone now wanted to end the mutant threat… but couldn't, because while he had let them all go free in the end, he was still a massive threat, because he clearly worked with Albion.
While Natasha had the inside scoop that it wasn't really the case, people didn't know that, and even if she told them, would they believe her?
Sure, Fury would, but what could he do when the people giving him orders wouldn't believe him?
SHIELD was in a tough position, and it was all because some corrupt politicians couldn't keep their greed in check. Now everyone was taking advantage of the chaos they made as they tried to face off against a god.
Really… they had no idea who they were dealing with.
But more than even that, she was mostly interested in Wakanda, while the media said nothing about it, she had heard everything from Fury, and knew that the unassuming nation had secrets. And while Fury would be looking into that, she, too, had been asked to gather information.
After all, it seemed that Arthuria apparently had a grudge against them, so it was likely that she would be willing to give them information if that could get the nation into trouble, and that nation sure was gonna be in huge trouble soon.
Because, with Albion and mutants rising, the world was desperate in their search for new weapons. And well, apparently Vibranium was the best of the best when it came to the future of weapons.
Or at least that was what people were saying, and that was enough to make people go crazy. Fear could be a powerful tool for motivation and advancement.
The door to the apartment creaked open, and Natasha glanced over her shoulder as Yelena stepped inside, her short, platinum-blonde hair still slightly damp from the morning mist, a small, battered leather satchel slung over one shoulder.
She kicked the door shut behind her with one booted foot, tossing the satchel onto the small wooden table by the door and glancing over at the TV, her sharp, blue eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the rapidly scrolling headlines.
"Been watching the news?" she asked, her tone light, but with a sharp, calculating edge that Natasha had come to recognize as the mark of a seasoned operative, someone who had spent too long in the shadows to ever truly relax.
Natasha just snorted, leaning back against the couch and crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah," she replied, her voice low and slightly rough, the faint, bitter echo of old scars lurking beneath the words. "Hard to miss. The whole world's losing its mind."
Yelena smirked, tossing her leather gloves onto the small, battered kitchen counter and making her way over to the couch, dropping down onto the worn, slightly lumpy cushions beside her sister.
"Good," she said, her tone sharp, her blue eyes glinting with a faint, predatory light. "It's about time."
Natasha just shook her head, letting out a quiet, resigned sigh as she reached for the half-empty cup of tea on the small, battered side table beside the couch.
"Yeah," she muttered, her voice low and thoughtful as she took a slow, careful sip, her sharp green eyes never leaving the flickering images of chaos and crisis on the TV screen. "Yeah, I guess it is."
-----
Professor Charles Xavier sat in the cool, shaded silence of his study, his hands steepled beneath his chin, his sharp, blue eyes fixed on the flickering screen of the small, wall-mounted TV in the corner of the room.
Around him, the faint, familiar sounds of the mansion in the morning drifted in from the hall – the distant clatter of silverware as the younger students gathered in the dining hall for breakfast, the low, muffled hum of voices as the older students swapped gossip and rumors in the common rooms.
Here, in the quiet solitude of his study, the world felt strangely small, the walls pressing in around him as the news anchor's voice cut through the stillness, the polished, precise tones carrying a weight that felt almost physical in their intensity.
"...Magneto, the self-proclaimed leader of the mutant race, has issued a public declaration of mutant sovereignty, demanding recognition and rights for his people in a dramatic, unprecedented speech at yesterday's United Nations summit.
In a shocking display of power, the mutant leader held the entire UN assembly hostage, using his mastery of magnetism to control the very metal of the building itself, effectively paralyzing the world's most powerful leaders as he issued his demands..."
Charles let out a slow, quiet breath, his fingers tightening slightly against the cool, polished surface of his desk as the anchor's words continued to spill from the small, battered speakers, each word striking him like a physical blow.
He had known, of course, that this day would come. He had always known, deep down, that Erik would one day push things too far, that his old friend's ambition and anger would lead him to take a step too far, to cross a line that could never be uncrossed.
Last time he was here, and made his intention of conquest known, he had known it was likely too late to stop him, but the fact that Erik wanted him to join, and agreed to wait gave him some hope, hope that with time, Erik would realize the truth.
However, Erik wasn't happy that he hadn't responded to his call to arms as he had expected. And now, he had taken his first step forward.
Charles assumed that since he hadn't joined him, Erik wanted to increase his numbers before acting on his goals for an independent mutant Nation.
This action, forcing all the nations of the world to hand over their mutant population, was his way of gaining himself an army. Charles knew it, as did everyone else.
Erik had done it, he had crossed the line, starting to build an army, and forever broken mutants away from their fellow man.
Through the vast mansion and ground that served as his school, he could feel the minds of the kids who lived there, the minds of his friends, of everyone, their thoughts were split on this. Some were happy, some excited, others shared his worry.
"Oh, Erik… what have you done." He sighed, he would need to respond to this, because it was only a time before someone would target him, worried that he might join Erik… couldn't they understand that he didn't want to? And by acting against him and the school, they just forced him into Erik's arms?