Within the world of the comic, it’s actually made clear in a slightly obtuse way. When Nightcrawler is speaking to Wolverine about the colony of underground mutants, Logan changes the topic to Jono, making it apparent that the trip to London for the trio of X-Men was not solely about the spike Cerebra detected. The key phrase: “HE NEVER SHOWED.” What’s made out to be a bit of coincidence that he’s there at the same time as them is subtly turned into something else. He was invited to be an X-Man and he never actually arrived. Headhunted to get a real job at the premier superhero mutant team and he buggered off to Europe. It’s all pretty obvious when you read the words. And a bit clichéd, admittedly. “Backpacking around Europe to find himself” is not an original idea. It’s almost beside the point.
The point is that the X-Men don’t let go. Call it loyalty, call it protectiveness, call it a fucking cult... they don’t let the boy go. When you think about it, Nightcrawler, Iceman, and Archangel are just three guys Chamber has maybe met twice? Exchanged how many words with? They’re these legendary alumni and all of them were sent to put the hard-press recruitment on him? It’s like there’s only one path into the ‘real world’ for Chamber and X marks the spot (sorry). Insulation is the word. Hermetically sealed, bagged and boarded, kept in mint condition this little world of theirs. Even when the underground mutants burns a little hole in it, it’s still like the Mansion is everywhere...
It’s an oddity of fiction. The workplace comedy where coworkers at like family. Those scenes in big crossovers where, as a kid, you wonder why it seems like the Human Torch barely knows Vision... you have this macroscopic view of this biodome world where you know everyone and every story revolves around these characters and you think that, because you know them all, they all know each other. Like the rules of the literal real world don’t apply. Chuck Klosterman’s essay on Saved by the Bell in Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is my favourite example of breaking this phenomena down when he discusses what he calls the “Tori Paradox,” where, for half of the senior year of the characters, Kelly and Jessie were nowhere to be seen but the remaining characters hung out with a previously-unseen character, Tori, who quickly filled the role of both characters. Viewers tend to think of this as an odd moment for the show because two longstanding characters are swapped out for a brand new one and no one seems to notice anything strange. Beyond that, episodes featuring Tori and episodes featuring Jessie and Kelly were shown concurrently or even back to back, giving the impression that the characters swapped constantly without anything thinking anything of it. Completely unrealistic and maddening for fans. However, Klosterman writes,
the more I think
back on my life, the more I’ve come to realize that the Tori Paradox might be
the only element of Saved by the Bell
that actually happened to me. Whenever I try to remember friends from high
school, friends from college, or even just friends from five years ago, my
memory always creates the illusion that we were together constantly, just like
those kids on Saved by the Bell.
However, this was almost never the case. Whenever I seriously piece together my
past, I inevitably uncover long stretches where somebody who (retrospectively)
seemed among my closest companions simply wasn’t around. I knew a girl in
college who partied with me and my posse constantly, except for one semester in
1993—she had a waitressing job at Applebee’s during that stretch and could
never make it to any parties. And even though we all loved her, I can’t recall
anyone mentioning her absence until she came back. [...] Coming and going is
more normal than it should be.
Chamber wasn’t given the option to just fade out, an event that happens with common frequency in superhero comicbooks. Team books, in particular, embrace the Tori Paradox with lineups changing every few issues, sometimes, the makeup of the team seemingly set at the random whims of that month’s writer. That’s what happened here, after all. Joe Casey, enamoured with Chamber as the perfect modern mutant, has to contend with all that means. He’s got to be part of the book, but also be true to himself and try to flee it. He’s given his own story about a popstar looking to use him to bolster her image until it’s too much and he bounces off the edges of the story right back into the X-Men. All the while, they’re running around in the background fighting a racist mutant killer and trying to save mutants that don’t want their help... you witness Jon Starsmore do his best to walk out into his own story, his own world, and the glass pens him in. He can’t pass for what he’s not... he was born into this... he has no choice... until the next writer has no use for him...
