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The Claremont-Byrne X-Men effect was of a seething virtual reality built up using accurate photo references and up-to-date travelogue descriptions of the exotic locales that the X-Men would visit in the course of each new headlong adventure (…). This kind of detailed scene setting, combined with an ever-open window into the ongoing thoughts of every single character, gave the comic a texture that was sticky like flypaper. It was imposible not to get caught up in the perfectly crafted, maddeningly compelling soap opera twists, turns, and shocking cliffhangers. No story came with no shock revelation to rival Darth Vader’s “No, I’m your father”. In X Men, everyone was someone’s father, long-lost brother, evil twin, estrangled lover, mother, wife or descendant from the furure. Soon there was nothing random in the lives of this international mutant outcasts, whitch made the introduction of any new character a source of fretful speculation. Could this mistery masked man be Nightcrawler’s missinfg sister or uncle? Or was it Colossus’s evil counterpart from a parallel world? Or perhaps the long lost son of Professor X?
Grant Morrison, Supergods.