The ten year old boy stood in the crowd, at the front of it waiting upon King Bradley to finish his preparations, quite curious as to what the king intended to reveal in his speech. A bright smile was upon his face, one that rarely ever disappeared unless he was working or he was genuinely upset. At the time he was neither, although it could be argued he was doing the former, albeit the fact he had no intentions of killing today. After all, he was here to observe King Bradley. What he had observed so far was the most blatant of facts, it was staring everyone right in the face, yet none of the assassins including Xavier seemed to realize it could be used to take the king down. The man's face was surgically altered, more so than the movie stars who felt the need to because it appealed to the public. His teeth were perfect, there were no errors, but Xavier felt that the blinding white of them, the unnatural colour, was a flaw. His hair probably had taken hours to prepare, and overall, he looked like a young hero from a movie, even though he was 46. The man cared too much about his public image. Xavier saw that as fatal flaw for the man, and began to wonder if it could be used against him.

Unlike the other assassins who seethed in anger at even the mention of him, Xavier's thoughts and feelings on him were very peculiar and mixed. Like the rest of them he recognized the threat, the king wanted all the assassins dead for the sole reason of gaining public favour. It was a method that Hitler had used in his rise to power and now Bradley was copying it, he placed the blame and fixated the hatred upon one group, the only difference being that this group was not innocent. Xavier recognized the basics of what he was doing, if not the whole picture and his exact intentions and plan. He was deceiving the crowd, multiple people at once and it was hardly noticed, and even if it were to be broadcasted, this man had taken care of that, his public image protected him. It was due to those methods and intent, that Xavier had mixed feelings. On one hand he was angry, he wanted the man dead for making him a target, while on the other hand, his skill at deception... Well, Xavier did not admire it per se, he acknowledged it, and acknowledged the man's superior deception skills in that area.

Although his own methods surpassed the king's when it came to his goals, and his skill in the art of deception was greater in places, but King Bradley could manipulate large crowds, something Xavier wanted the ability to do. Despite his skill, his superiority, his intentions, his methods, he was still a large threat to many assassins, including Xavier. The man would most likely have an abattoir of assassins by the end of this if he was not stopped, and Xavier would be in there, regardless of his age. It was simple, the man had to be rid of, but too many assassins were looking at this the wrong way, ignoring cause and effect. They didn't realize that killing him would only make him a martyr, and even more would support his cause. Xavier, whose ten year old mindset was probably helping him think of a better solution than what most of the assassins seemed to have, decided that he'd observe more before acting. 

It was perfect timing for him to decide this, the moment he had the thought, trumpets began to play, snapping him out of his mind, and back to reality. The trumpets were followed by the noise from the crowd, causing Xavier to wince as he contributed, for three reasons: The crowd was too loud for his liking, almost everyone there was ignorant, and worst of all he had to partake. What came next, the volume of his words, was almost enough to make Xavier stop smiling and cover his ears, but he could not bring any  attention to himself, he was at the front and if he wanted a chance to kill the king, he could not be remembered. There were things he could do however, such as roll his eyes at the things this man said. Which he did, at the words 'dawn of a new world,' the statement was absolutely ridiculous to the ten year old, yet people in the audience were actually buying it. This was signified by the cheers from the crowd which once again, he partook in, disgusted. Luckily for him, the king waved the noise down, and Xavier resumed observing.

There was no way he could have been ready for what came next. His eyes widened in shock, the smile on his face quickly replaced with a frown, he was genuinely upset now. When the man, Hugo Simmons, was brought onto stage, his rage began to multiply, and he was slow to join the crowd in their joy, adding his false joy into it, looking around to see if anyone had noticed his momentary falter. They didn't notice it, they were too engaged with the captured assassin. Xavier felt pity for the man, he was beaten terribly, and only more awaited along with humiliation, and then his inevitable death. There was no hope for him, if there ever were a situation where one was absolutely hopeless, this would be it.

Xavier's blood was boiling, he was starting to become consumed by his own rage. Was this is what the king wanted? Others to be humiliated and killed so that he could keep his power and gain public favour? No, he probably didn't care, for him the ends justified the means, and although this was right for most cases, it wasn't for this case, the ends were for asinine selfishness. Xavier, being ten years old, did not think that the ends justified the means. He moved his hands to his oversized hoodie, they were shaking in anger as he subtly grasped his guns. He had completely forgotten everything he had thought about, how killing the king would only make him a martyr, all he wanted was to kill Hugo and Bradley, the former to save him and the latter to end this. He was blinded by rage, trying to figure out which way he'd need to move and how he'd need to shoot if he were to get both before he died. Suddenly, everything rushed back to him, his previous speculation and his common sense, and he released his guns, letting his hands rise again to clap, blending in with the crowd once again. Hugo would die, and so would many others. They would be humiliated, maimed, then killed, and that's what Bradley deserved. A quick death would not cut it, he deserved more, and the ten year old would make sure of it.