Of all the X-Men, Kurt Wagner is the most comfortable being fictional. Why would Muir Island-or anywhere-have a fleet of rakish musketeer robots? (Or the capacity to produce solid holograms of them, which isn’t much different.) Because it’s ridiculous, and so is Nightcrawler. Each golden arm ends in a matching golden épée and each golden head is crowned by a red cavalier hat complete with voluminous ivory plumage. He’s fighting gleaming golden robots decked out like swashbuckling musketeers. Amid a tangle of metal pipes designed for climbing and swinging, Nightcrawler is suspended in midair, brandishing an épée in each hand and his prehensile tail, face algow with a devilish grin. The scene opens with some unusually spare and elliptical Claremontian captions, describing the location as, “Muir Isle… the gymnasium… fun and games.” Alan Davis’ images are considerably grander. It’s shocking, heart-wrenching, and important-for Nightcrawler, for me, and for understanding why people like me can’t quit loving made-up mutants from thirty-year-old funnybooks. This uncannily agile mutant, who generally jaunts through another dimension with little more than a thought, is powerless in a way superheroes seldom are. Kurt can’t teleport to safety his powers aren’t what they used to be. Instead, his brush with death happens during a seemingly playful training exercise. Kurt’s life isn’t imperiled saving the world, or a teammate, or someone who hates and fears him. My favorite scene is the one where Kurt Wagner nearly dies. But it’s not the scene where he tosses Captain Britain in the ocean, or the scene where he makes a courageous, foolhardy attempt to stop the Technet from kidnapping his friends. Surprising no one, it involves Nightcrawler. My favorite scene from my best X-Men story encapsulates why I love it.

In other words, it’s a great X-Men story, and my own personal favorite. It’s also a deeply human story about disability, trauma, grief, found family, and the struggle to keep going when you’re not sure why you should. Excalibur: The Sword is Drawn is a silly romp involving cosmic beings, surreal dreams, and two sets of intergalactic bounty hunters, one of which is made up of talking dogs resembling liquid mercury.

Blade by Chris Claremont