Marvel: 1900

London, England: May 1900:

He was a short man that was the first thing most people noticed about James Howlett. His hair also brought attention as it drove up behind his head and stuck up at two points behind his head like the ears of a wild animal. Howlett was also quite possibly the scruffiest man alive, just looking at him gave people the impression he could wrinkle a suit of armour. He looked in his early twenties but gave the impression of being much, much older.

His clothes were out of place too, a brown skin jacket and leather trousers with black, scuffed boots. A flat brimmed Stetson hat adorned his head, the brown colouring stained or worn away at various spots. He looked quite like a cowboy who was down on his luck and wasn't cared about who knew it. Of course, the fact Howlett was dressed like this would have made him stand out in London itself but he was also in one of the keystones of power of the British Empire, the Old War Office Building at Whitehall.

As suited men walked past by him, Howlett earned himself many curious glances due to his general appearance. Though many of the men in the building were accustomed to such clothing on their… travels, it was something of a surprise to see it in the building itself. Howlett paid no attention to their glances, his mind on more important matters. Such as whom he was about to meet and the topic of their conversation. Howlett had been waiting for several minutes already and was starting to lose his patience… what there had been to begin with anyway.

An old grandfather clock sat further down the hallway where its methodical ticking had been grating on Howlett's already frayed nerves since he had sat down. Never a patient man to begin with, he had finally reached the end of his tether when the door finally opened and a face came out of the room "Come in Mr. Howlett, sorry to keep you waiting but other matters had to be attended to first." The voice belonged to the head of the Secret Service Bureau, William Melville (1). Melville stood by the door, giving Howlett room to walk by. He was well dressed as usual, his moustache well trimmed and what was left of his hair finely cut. Howlett brushed past him, barely bothering to give any form of greeting beside a grunt. He lumbered into the office and sat down heavily on a chair, paying no heed as Melville closed the door and sat down at his desk.

Melville shuffled his papers before looking towards Howlett and saying in his rather suppressed Irish accent (2) "I've been informed what you did in South Africa, quite remarkable. How did you make it seem as if la Rey and the others had been killed by wild animals?" (3) The tone in Melville's voice was one of curiosity and a little repulsed. Although the man was the father of modern British Intelligence agencies, he still had a very gentleman streak when it came down to it, assassinations did not sit well with him.

Howlett shrugged at the question "I'm just good at what I do." He replied flippantly "But I take it you didn't summon me here just for a talk on South Africa. All's that's left is the mopping up anyway."

Melville gave a nod before reaching over his desk and pulling the stand to his mouth and transmitter to his ear. After dialling for a few seconds, he spoke into it "Yes… Melville here… Yes, send them in please." Melville then placed the telephone down back on his desk and turned to Howlett "In brief Howlett, you're here for a new assignment, one which could very well decide the fate of Britain and the Empire."

Howlett gave Melville a tired look and simply pulled out a cigar and matchbook from his pocket, lighting a match on the sole of his shoe before taking a puff "When doesn't it?" He asked sardonically as he put the matches back in his pocket "And who was that you called in?"

"Partners in what could be the greatest enterprise in British Intelligence." Melville raised his hand as Howlett opened his mouth "And if you use that damned 'contradiction-in-terms' joke once more Howlett, so help me I'll…"

What Melville planned to do should Howlett have used that joke was to go unknown as a knock at the door interrupted his words. After Melville called out "Enter." Two people entered, one was a handsome middle aged man, tall with a tanned countenance, a very fine suit and a very neatly trimmed goatee. Howlett looked past that though and instead focused on the woman behind him, one of the most beautiful he had ever seen. Her skin was of dark mahogany, with long, pure white hair and bright blue eyes that shone brilliantly. Her tall body was covered in a simple dark dress and her face had a look of disgruntled defiance on it. Howlett suddenly realised that he'd been staring for a little too long and looked back to Melville with a questioning look.

"Mr. Howlett, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Nathaniel Essex, head of the Royal Society for the Study of Genetics."

Howlett looked over Essex, unimpressed "Never heard of it." He muttered.

"We're fairly new." Essex said good naturedly "So far there's only me, the tea boy and the works of Gregor Mendel on my bookshelf." (4)

"Yep, it's an English run job alright." Howlett muttered before looking over to the other figure "And you are?"

The woman looked Howlett in the eye and drew herself up, clearly showing that she wasn't a demure flower "My name is Ororo N'Dare Mr. Howlett. And I trust that my appearance surprises you?"

"You mean that they didn't make you come through the servant's entrance?" Howlett asked "Nah, as far as I'm concerned, we've got something in common; else Melville wouldn't have brought us here. Sides, why do I care if you're dark or not? You look as if you can handle yourself just as good as anyone else."

"Miss N'Dare is the Princess of a tribe from our dominions in Kenya." Melville said, wanting to get straight to business "She agreed to our request to be a part of this organization in return…"

"In return that my people's crops wouldn't be burned nor their cattle slaughtered." Ororo shot out, her gaze focused harshly on Melville "Do not think I am some lap dog to the British Crown. I am here simply because I was threatened and cajoled and blackmailed into it, nothing more."

Melville waved his hand dismissively "I was not present at those negotiations between you and the British representatives. But I do know your people are getting access to better medicine and education due to your co-operation." He decided to cut out any further argument by saying "Regardless of that, you've been summoned here for a single reason. Doubtless you've heard of the rise in people with incredible abilities, much like you have Howlett and N'Dare. Just the other day I've received word of a man in France who can make things explode on contact and a Russian who can turn his skin into unbreakable metal. The British Government needs a response to the growth in numbers of these…"

"Adapts, I've personally named them." Essex piped in "From the evolutionary concept of adaptation. What we're seeing here in the next stage in Human evolution, where Mankind finally adapts to overcome…" Essex stopped as he noticed the stares he was getting before giving a cough "Regardless, I think 'Adapts' is a good enough name for now."

The other three shared a look which shared a rather unpleasant thought before Howlett looked over to Melville "So we're just here to make sure the rest of us don't get uppity? Is that it?"

A sigh came from Melville in exasperation "No Howlett, you're here to protect Britain and her Empire and the people who live in it. What is good for Britain may very well be good for you somewhere down the road, do remember that Miss N'Dare. But for now, you're needed to recruit another potential of our league. One who's been less than responsive to our offers so far. We want you and Miss N'Dare to go in person to persuade him, we think it'd be more persuasive coming from fellow… Adapts."

A roll of Howlett's eyes was the first answer Melville got before the agent said "So… we're a recruiting party now? I've had worse jobs… So who's the lucky man?"

Melville opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out, of all things, a circus poster "His name is Kurt Wagner, a German by nationality, Catholic by faith. He's an old performer in the Munich Circus, having to leave due to something of a scandal and now resides in a Monastery in Bavaria." He leant over and gave Howlett the poster, pointing to a drawn face on it. It had dark blue fur and bright yellow eyes with no pupils with a mouth decorated with fangs. Howlett passed it to N'Dare, noting her calm reaction to it.

"Quite a mask he's got on there." Howlett said as the poster was passed to Essex who pondered at the picture.

"That isn't a mask." Melville said simply "That is his face, covered in fur and eyes with no pupils. He apparently only has three fingers and has been likened to a Demon in appearance." Melville allowed himself a smirk "Quite ironic for someone who's currently attempting to become a priest."

"So we go to this Monastery, convince the blue Demon to join us and then return to England with him?" Howlett asked, masking his surprise about their target's appearance beneath a mask of coolness "And how're we supposed to convince him when everyone else hasn't?"

Melville shrugged "You of all people should be able to understand his predicament Howlett. An outcast from society, hiding away? You have the ability to talk with him on a level we can't." He motioned towards Essex "Dr. Essex shall not be going with you on this mission, his duties to the Society and the need to establish a proper relationship with the Cabinet overrides all other aspects. You and Miss N'Dare shall travel to Bavaria and attempt to sway him to agree to join our league. By then, affairs should be sorted out enough to brief you on your first mission. We are expecting one final member to join us before we get down to business."

Silence greeted Melville's words as all three considered what was about to happen. Ororo was here because she wanted the best for her people, Essex was interested in it as a purely scientific venture and Howlett… did what he had always done, he had nothing else. Finally, Ororo asked the necessary question "When do we set out?"

"You and Mr. Howlett will be spending the night at the Great Central Hotel (5) and shall leave for France on a ferry at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. You will then get a train from Calais to the station nearest the Monastery which should take you no more than three days. I hope your arguments will be convincing enough to bring him over to our side. You shall of course be given files giving you details on Mr. Wagner's life and personality, anything to make your job easier."

Howlett started to rise from his seat, looking over to Ororo "Since we ain't needed here, I say we go and get some sleep. Travellin' for a few days on a train is hardly the best way to spend time when you want to relax."

Ororo also rose from her seat, having travelled up the lengths of Arica, most of it in a train, she was inclined to agree. She glanced over to Melville and said "I hope that we shall get those documents before too long. I want to know as much as I can about this Kurt Wagner before we meet him."

"Of course. They shall be sent to you tonight." Melville replied "A carriage shall be waiting for you outside that will take you to the hotel. I wish you a safe and successful journey."

Melville's farewell was answered with only a brief nod and wave from Howlett and Ororo, both of whom were glad to leave the office. Ororo due to her disdain of anyone that had to do anything with the British Government and Howlett because he was in no mood for hanging around when it was clear the business of the meeting was over. The two got into the carriage waiting outside the building for them and travelled to the hotel, neither one saying a word as they travelled through London, silence being their third companion.

Limehouse, London:

The girl ran through the darkened streets and alleys of Limehouse, fleeing desperately from her pursuers. They had just finished killing the girl's parents and were now determined to finish the job of wiping out the family so that the threat from them would never arise properly and to show what would happen to anyone who lost a shipment of opium. (6) The dark alleys and streets of Limehouse only got worse as the girl, Li Huanxin, ran as fast as she could to escape. She never knew her father was an opium dealer or that he had been cheating on his suppliers. She found out though when the two dealers her father had conned invaded her home and killed her parents, leaving her to flee into the dark streets.

Her pursuers were quickly on her tail however, no one went to help her, in these streets; it paid not to get in the way of the Triads, not if you valued your life anyway. Huanxin ran despite the fire in her chest and the feeling of lead in her legs. She had had a rough life in her fourteen years of living in Limehouse, but she was still unprepared for the mad desperate run she was undertaking, her pursuers never letting up, even getting closer as time wore on as Huanxin's breath grew short with each step she took.

This all came to a screeching halt when Huanxin turned into an unfamiliar alley and realised that she'd gone straight into a dead end. Despair overcoming her, Huanxin collapsed to her knees, taking huge, ragged breaths, starting to sob as she realised that she was crying, out of fear and the realisation that she was about to die. Footsteps got close and then stopped as her two assailants stood over her, one pulling out a knife "Do not cry, little one," Said one voice, slightly mocking in tone "Soon, you will have nothing to cry about…" (7)

Huanxin looked up as the knife glittered in what little light got into the alley. The blade rose up as the man stepped forward, preparing to bring it down into the girl's face. Out of pure instinct and desperation, Huanxin raised her hands up in a desperate bid to defend herself when, much to her shock, shots of energy came out of her fingers, shooting at her attackers like fireworks at the New Year celebrations. The bright shards of light shot forward and struck the man in his eyes, causing him to cry out in pain and drop his knife, bringing his hands to his injured eyes "I can't see! What did you do to me you little whore?" He yelled in agony, while his partner stepped forward, trying to finish off the job before Huanxin could launch another similar attack. It seemed as if he might succeed as the girl was apparently in shock at seeing what she had done.

Before her assailant could land a blow however, Huanxin managed to regain her senses and shot her hand out again at the attacker, somehow bringing herself to will that another burst of energy would come from her fingers and strike the man in front of her. Miracles of miracles, the energy shot from her fingers once more, lancing straight into the man's eyes, blinding him badly. He quickly joined his accomplice in reeling backwards, his eyes in agony of the burning sensations. Seeing her chance, Huanxin rushed past them and fled, going further into the dark streets of London, away from her home.

It took some time before one of the men was able to see anything through his eyes, the pain having made it impossible before now. His vision was severely damaged however and to all intents and purposes, he was nearly blind. He staggered forward, looking in the direction the girl had fled in before turning to his partner. "S-Should we go after her?"

The man's partner was quick to shake his head; his injuries even worse "No… let the bitch get lost. She's some kind of magician. As far as anyone else is concerned, she's dead; our injuries came from a fire. Better that no one but us knows about this." The two men then started to stumble out towards a safe house, hoping that their injuries would heal and that no one would ever find out about what had happened. Huanxin had already reached the outskirts of Limehouse, hoping that her time of danger had passed. She was, of course, wrong.

Great Central Hotel London:

For one who was accustomed to the plains of Kenya, London was a stifling experience, so many buildings and alleyways, trapping people in with their dark surroundings. Ororo loathed the city and what it represented, the Imperialism which had forced her to leave her home in order to protect her people. She knew that what she wanted more than anything was to return home and be free of the British forever, for them to return to their dingy little island and stay there.

Ororo looked out from her room, which was spacious and quite luxurious, watching the great city before her, repulsed yet somehow fascinated at the thought of so much life just teeming away in one space… A sudden rap on the door rose Ororo from her thoughts but she did not answer, not wanting to speak to anyone. After a moment, the knocking stopped and it seemed as if Ororo had had her way. She was unpleasantly surprised however, when the lock at the door turned and the door itself opened, revealing Howlett with the faintest hint of smugness on his face "Ain't no lock I can't get through." He announces before walking into the room and shutting the door behind him.

Ororo folded her arms, her face with a fierce look of anger on it "What is the meaning of this?" She snapped "Bad enough that I have to work with an Englishman but you even have to invade my privacy?"

Howlett raised his hands up in a defensive manner "I ain't here for an argument, just to talk. You can either listen and maybe we won't spend the next few days at each others throats or I can leave and we'll probably wind up killing each other in Paris." He actually managed a smile "And believe me, for a beautiful woman like you, there's definitely better things to do in a city like Paris."

Those words made Ororo pause. Not until now had a white man ever described her as beautiful, her anger subsided only gently, although suspicions regarding Howlett's motives were there. She still kept her gaze on him as she asked "Alright then, what do you have to say? And make it quick."

There was a pause before the reply came. Ororo realised that Howlett wasn't a man much for talking and had really gone out of his way for this. She allowed herself to listen to what he had to say when he spoke up "I know you don't like the British and really, I don't blame you. I've been to Africa plenty of times and I haven't been impressed at all and what you said about being blackmailed, that don't surprise me either. But you should know that I'm not the guy who's behind it all. I just do what I do. And I'm damn good at it."

A huff from Ororo was the initial answer, her scepticism at these words showing through "And if that's true, why bother working for them?"

Howlett shrugged in response "Because I don't have anything else. I got drafted in when I had nothing else going for me, still don't. At least you've got a home to go to; I've got nothing 'sides from a few people I've met over the years though they're not what you'd call a family, or even friends. I just do what I do."

Although she knew very little about Howlett, Ororo felt that his words were honest although maybe still hiding something. Some pains were too hard to share with people; maybe Howlett was doing just that. A sigh issued from Ororo's lips "And you're telling me this why? You hardly seem to be the sort to open up Howlett."

"Well like I said, the sooner you realise I ain't a bad guy in this, the better. I've worked with people before, not always by choice and I know the fewer secrets you have to deal with, the easier it is."

Ororo finally gave a nod "Very well, as long as we understand that this is business. I have no wish to have anything other than a cordial relationship with you at best Howlett."

A nod was the reply along with a slight smirk "Couldn't ask for anything better. So long as you don't use whatever you have to…" Howlett tailed off, suddenly realising something "What can you do anyway?"

For the first time since he'd seen her, Ororo actually smiled "Let's put it this way, have you noticed that it hasn't rained in London since I haven't arrived?" Howlett's face was blank for a moment before he suddenly realised what Ororo meant and actually looked impressed by it "And what can I expect from you Howlett?" She asked.

In response, Howlett held out his hand and tensed it for a moment, grimacing in pain before three spiked bones shot out from in between his knuckles, sending a small shower of blood across the back of his hand as the skin split open. Ororo looked on, dumbfounded at the protrusions. The bones were just less than seven inches in length and had the width and look of knife blades, almost as sharp they appeared. With the appearance of them, one question sprung to Ororo's mind "Doesn't that hurt to have them come out of your body like that?"

"Every damn time." Howlett admitted as he looked down on the bones "And if I didn't have this ability to heal, I'd probably die of blood loss too." Ororo noted the truth in those words as she saw the openings that the bones had come from were healed, no bleeding to be seen, there was truly more to Howlett than met the eye…

The bones went back into Howlett's wrists with the skin enveloping the slits where they had popped out from, the healing once more taking affect on his hands. Howlett overlooked the brief pain and grinned at Ororo "Of course, it's come in handy more than once, it will do again."

Ororo nodded silently at these revelations and saw why Howlett was given a wide berth by his superiors; the man was a highly valuable asset to Britain. She still saw him as a part of the problem facing her people however and for that, she was determined to keep their relationship at a distance "I thank you for sharing this with me Mr. Howlett." She began "But we do have a long journey tomorrow and I think it best if we get as much rest as we can, don't you?"

The rebuff was hardly unexpected but Howlett still frowned when she said it "Fair enough." He muttered, turning around to the door "Just so you know Princess, if we're going to be working together, I'm going to have to know that I can trust you when our backs are at the wall. So just drop the attitude and do what you're here for." With that, Howlett closed the door behind him with a bang, leaving Ororo to glower where the man had just been, her attitude towards him freezing by the minute.

Several Miles West of Narew, Congress of Poland:

The ground being tilled by Max Eisenhardt was hard and difficult, the last few months being unusually dry and difficult for the local farmers. If something did not happen soon, another hard harvest was on the horizon and Eisenhardt was not looking forward to that possibility. He stopped pushing the plough for a moment and took a deep breath. He needed a good rest but knew it was impossible, with only him to work on this farm; he had no other options but to work as hard as he could in order to buy enough food and fuel to get through winter. It would be a hard task, even if he had no other distractions…

"Hey! Jew!" (8) Came a shout from behind Eisenhardt, causing him to sigh in exasperation and turn around. To no surprise at all, two Russian soldiers sat on horseback, looking down on Eisenhardt from there height. One pointed directly down in front of his horse and shouted "Get over here Jew! We have something to tell you!"

Taking as much time as he could to maximise any insult possible, Eisenhardt stood away from his plough and sauntered over to the soldiers, looking like he had no care in the World "And what would Russia's finest want with a lowly Jew? I have neither food for you to steal nor women for you to rape. Unless I am speaking to a pair of sodomite Russians which I wouldn't be surprised, considering those whores you call your wo-" The insult was cut short with a gun shot hitting the space directly in front of Eisenhardt's feet. He managed to keep himself from jumping back and returned the glare the soldiers were giving him with a cool look.

"Watch your mouth you stinking Jew or the next bullet will be between your eyes!" The soldier with the gun snarled, leaving no room for ideas that he was bluffing. His partner grabbed his hand and shook his head. There were to be no murders, not now at any rate.

The calmer soldier turned to Eisenhardt and gave the words "We were just passing by to tell you that you and all the other Jews around here can expect a true Tsar's… celebration of your people within the next few days. Let the others of your kind know, won't you?" Spitting on the ground in front of Eisenhardt's feet, the soldier twisted his horse around and trotted away with his compatriot in tow who gave Eisenhardt one last black look before following his comrade in moving away from the farmer.

As they left, Eisenhardt felt a chill run down his spine, knowing what the two soldiers meant by their words. A Pogrom was about to take place. Eisenhardt had heard all about them, Jews all over the Empire were targeted, either by the Army or the Okhrana (9) and attacked brutally, usually with many Jews dying in the process. (10) The small village Eisenhardt was in seemed to be another target of this and he knew there was little he could do about it. He would warn the others of course but it would only be a matter of slightly limiting the damage. He knew that this would be a bloody event and the helplessness was the worst part…

To be continued…

1: William Melville was one of the architects of modern British Intelligence Services, had a long distinguished career even before founding the Secret Service Bureau in 1906. In this Timeline, the rise of Adapts has furthered his career somewhat.

2: Melville was from Ireland, not the most popular of places for a British Civil Servant to come from. I imagine years of working amongst the highest ranking English serviceman would have had an impact upon his brogue.

3: Koos de la Rey was a Military leader of the Boers during the Second Boer War (1899-1902). He had managed to maintain a good resistance against the British presence in South Africa before he and his forces were overwhelmed by Britain's Armies. In this Timeline however, the interference of our plucky protagonist has ended the Second Boer War quite prematurely.

4: Gregor Mendel was a Priest dubbed 'the father of genetics'. He did research with pea plants which revealed the laws behind inheriting biological traits. His work was woefully overlooked during his lifetime and was only rediscovered during the turn of the twentieth century.

5: Located at one of the hubs of London's railways systems, the Great Central Hotel was a luxury hotel opened in 1899.

6: Opium dens were a fairly common sight in Victorian London. Squalid, seedy and usually the front for criminal gangs such as the Triads, they were spread via the use of opium, ironically once a major export towards China from British merchants.

7: Translated from Mandarin.

8: Translated from Polish.

9: The Okhrana were the Tsarist Secret Police, forerunners of the KGB.

10: Pogroms had been a feature of the Russian Empire since the mid-nineteenth century with the spark being the assassination of Tsar Alexander II which was rumoured to be the fault of the Jews despite most of those involved in the conspiracy were Christians. They lasted for a good way into the twentieth century until eventually dying out after the Russian Civil War in the early twentieth century.

Here's the first chapter of this story. Inspired by/Ripped off from Marvel: 1602 and the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, this'll focus on the early twentieth century with many Marvel characters popping up although the main plot will follow those from the X-Men group as they're the ones I'm most familiar with. Hope you enjoy and give us your thoughts about it.