I really didn't expect to enjoy this comic book. Chris Claremont isn't exactly my favorite writer, and given the premise, I don't really see why King Arthur's legendary sword would be selected as the title of this new series. Still, the notion of Charles Xavier as a mutant missionary is a strong one, and it brings a fresh quality to a character that's been around for four decades. Furthermore, Aaron Lopresti's art is strong, successfully conveying the harsh nature of the setting. Unfortunately, the character designs here leave a lot to be desired.
Charles Xavier has left his students and his X-Men behind in Westchester, New York, and he's travelled to the ravaged mutant nation of Genosha with little more than the clothes on his back. He's determined to help heal the physical and social wounds of those mutants who survived the devastating Sentinel attack that killed millions, and he soon meets a helpful and seemingly willing new student. But Xavier must also contend with those amoral mutants whom the X-Men fought in the past, including Unus the Untouchable.
It's a shame Igor Kordey was removed as artist from this title, as his gritty style would have bee well suited to the rough and ravaged qualities of the setting and those characters that call it home. Still, it's tough to miss Kordey when Lopresti offers up such strong visuals. The double-page splash on pages two and three is stunning, and it tells the reader a lot about what s.he has to know to understand the premise. There's a rich level of detail at play in the backgrounds and foregrounds here. The one aspect in which the art is a letdown, though, is in terms of character design. Wicked is visually uninteresting (though the ghostly manifestation of her powers is lovely), and Unus and his lackeys are rather generic in appearance.
At the heart of this story is the notion that Charles Xavier is doing penance for his perceived failure as a leader of mutantkind, for the millions of deaths in Genosha. Claremont needn't even tell the reader. Xavier clearly punishes himself here, forcing himself to carry out physical tasks he's really not equipped to deal with. Appropriately, it's not until he finds someone he can help that he allows anyone to help him, to ease his burden.
I really don't know how I feel about Xavier's imaginary conversations with his dead lover. On the one hand, it provides Xavier with an equal with whom he can interact, but on the other, it creates the impression he's a little bit crazy. What did work for me was the revelation on the final page. Clearly, we can't just take it at face value, but I'm genuinely interested in discovering what it means. Claremont's successfully lured me back for another issue. What remains to be seen is if he can keep doing it month after month.
