The hallways of Deerfield High smelled of floor wax, old sneakers, and the suffocating pressure of social hierarchy. For sixteen-year-old Kitty Pryde, it was a gauntlet she ran every single day, her head down, her brown curls acting as a curtain to hide the world.
She reached her locker, her fingers trembling slightly as she spun the dial on the combination lock. Left, right, left. Her mind was still a foggy mess of lightning flashes and the terrifying memory of her pillow being swallowed by a wooden beam. She just needed to get through the day. Just one day of being "Normal Kitty" instead of "Monster Kitty."
Behind her, the sharp, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of designer heels on linoleum signaled the end of her peace.
"Check it out, Riley. It's the Kitty Pitty Party," a mocking voice drawled.
Kitty's shoulders hunched toward her ears. Riley and her shadow, a girl named Sarah, stopped a few feet away, leaning against the neighboring lockers.
"Look at her," Sarah snickered, popping a bubble of pink gum. "She's shaking. Probably dreading PE no doubt. Afraid she might actually have to move a muscle that isn't in her brain."
"Aw, poor thing," Riley cooed, though her eyes were cold as glass. "It's probably the only class she isn't acing. Tell you what, Sarah, let's help her out. Give her a head start on her agility training."
Before Kitty could even turn around, four hands slammed into her back.
"Hey!" Kitty cried out, but the force sent her stumbling forward. She tumbled into the dark, narrow confines of her locker, her books scattering like fallen leaves.
SLAM.
The metal door shut, the latch clicking into place.
"World closing in on you, Kitty?" Riley laughed, her voice muffled by the steel. "Don't worry, we'll tell the janitor to look for you... eventually!"
Their laughter faded as they ran off, leaving Kitty in total, suffocating darkness.
The panic didn't come in a wave; it came in an explosion. The locker was too small. The metal was cold against her skin, pressing in from all sides. She couldn't breathe. The air felt like it was turning into lead.
"Let me out!" she screamed, hammering her fists against the door. Clang! Clang! Clang! "Open the door! Somebody! Please!"
She threw her entire weight against the metal, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The "shiver"—the vibration she had felt in the basement—began to hum in her teeth. It wasn't just fear; it was a physical frequency, a buzzing that made her feel like she was dissolving.
"Let me out! I can't—I can't breathe!"
Outside in the hallway, the silence was broken by the rhythmic psssst-psssst of an aerosol can.
A boy was strolling down the hall, looking like he owned the place despite the fact that he was currently vandalizing school property. He was tall, with a mop of messy brown hair and a cocky, half-lidded expression. He wore a dark hoodie under a weathered denim jacket, baggy cargo pants, and thick-soled boots that thudded heavily on the floor.
He was whistling a jaunty tune, trailing a line of vibrant red spray paint across the lockers in a jagged, rebellious zig-zag.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of the banging lockers made him stop. He tilted his head, the spray can still hissing.
"Hey! Who's out there?" a girl's voice shrieked from inside locker 412. "Can you hear me? Please, let me out! The door is stuck!"
The boy smirked, tucking the spray can into his pocket. He started toward the locker. "Rough day, huh, babe? Hang on, let me see if I can—"
He never finished the sentence.
Inside the locker, Kitty's panic reached its zenith. She pushed one last time, screaming with everything she had, expecting to hit the hard steel door.
Instead, she felt that sickening, ice-cold tingle.
She didn't hit the door. She slid through it.
She tumbled forward, her body passing through the solid metal as if it were nothing more than a thick fog. She flew out of the locker and collided directly with the boy in the denim jacket.
"Oof!"
The two of them hit the linoleum in a tangle of limbs. Kitty scrambled back, her eyes wide and wild, her chest heaving as she sucked in the hallway air. She looked at her hands, then back at the locker.
The door was still closed. Still locked.
The boy sat up, rubbing his shoulder. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even startled. He was staring at Kitty with an expression of pure, unadulterated awe.
"Whoa," he breathed, his voice a low rumble. "Did you... did you just do what I think you did?"
Kitty scrambled to her feet, her voice trembling. "I—I just... I just got out! I don't know!"
The boy stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He walked over to the locker, running a hand over the solid steel door. No dents. No scratches. He looked back at her, a predatory, knowing grin spreading across his face.
"Babe, you walked right through the door. Solid steel. Like it wasn't even there." He let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "That is so cool. I mean, seriously. High-tier stuff."
"You're crazy!" Kitty cried, clutching her books to her chest. She backed away, her head shaking. "I'm—I'm not—I'm just going to class. I'm late. I have to go."
She turned to run, but the boy's hand shot out, catching her by the wrist. His grip was firm, not hurtful, but solid.
"Wait a second," he said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming strangely intense. "Don't run. I'm the one guy in this whole plastic-wrapped school who actually gets the beauty of it. Because, newsflash, Kitty... you're just like me."
Kitty stared at him, her breath catching. "What? No. I'm not. I'm normal. I'm perfectly normal!"
The boy's grin widened. "Yeah? Check it."
He let go of her wrist and stepped back. He closed his eyes, his expression shifting from cocky to strained. A low, guttural groan escaped his throat, and his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites.
Suddenly, the world went crazy.
A deep, tectonic rumble started beneath their feet. The floor didn't just vibrate; it buckled. The lockers rattled in their frames with a deafening metallic roar. The light fixtures overhead flickered and hummed as the very foundation of the school groaned under an artificial earthquake.
Kitty shrieked, grabbing onto a nearby trophy case to keep from falling. "Stop it! Stop it! What are you doing?!"
The boy opened his eyes, the rumbling ceasing as quickly as it had begun. He stood there, looking completely unfazed, while dust motes settled around them.
"Get the picture now?" he asked, crossing his arms. "The name's Lance. And we aren't 'normal,' Kitty. We're better."
Kitty stared at the cracks in the linoleum, then at the boy who looked like he had just played God with the earth itself. The terror she had felt in the locker was nothing compared to the cold realization that she was being grouped in with this... this vandal. This freak.
"No," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're... you're just some freak! Stay away from me!"
She didn't look back. She bolted down the hallway, her sneakers squealing on the floor, her heart racing.
Lance Alvers watched her go, the red spray paint still dripping from the lockers behind him. He didn't look offended. He just smirked, his eyes dark with interest.
"Run all you want, Kitty-cat," he murmured to the empty hall. "But I'm gonna rock your world sooner or later."
The Pryde Residence - Living Room
The atmosphere in the living room was a stark contrast to the chaos at the high school. It was quiet, punctuated only by the soft ticking of a grandfather clock and the occasional sniffle from Carmen Pryde.
She sat on the sofa, her head resting on her husband's shoulder, a crumpled napkin clutched in her hand. Lance Pryde sat tall, his arm wrapped protectively around his wife, his eyes fixed on the man sitting across from him.
Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, his hands folded. Next to him, Jean Grey sat poised and empathetic. And leaning against the fireplace mantle, looking like a guardian gargoyle in a leather jacket, was Logan.
"So," Lance Pryde said, his voice weary. "You're saying Kitty is... a mutant. That what happened in the basement... that's her 'ability.' Phasing through walls."
"Precisely, Mr. Pryde," Charles said softly. "The X-gene typically activates during puberty, triggered by moments of intense stress, fear, or physical trauma. In Kitty's case, it seems her ability manifested in response to a vivid nightmare."
Lance looked down at his hands. "And how did you know? You said you 'sensed' it."
"I possess a unique telepathic gift," Charles explained. "I have built a system that allows me to detect the specific psionic signature of a mutant's awakening. It is like a beacon in the dark. I apologize for the intrusion; I understand how alarming it must have been to have us arrive so suddenly."
Lance sighed, his eyes drifting to Logan. He seemed to find more comfort in the rough-edged man than in the polished Professor. "Logan... you've seen this before? Other kids like her?"
"Plenty," I said, my voice a low rumble. I wasn't using the system, but I felt the weight of my words. "And I'll be honest with you, Lance. The world out there? It isn't kind to people who are different. They see a girl who can walk through walls, and they don't see a kid. They see a threat. Or a weapon."
Carmen let out a fresh sob, and Lance gripped her tighter. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he whispered. "I don't want her hunted. I don't want her to be a 'freak' in a lab somewhere."
"She won't be," I said, stepping forward. I looked Lance in the eye, my gaze steady. "I'll make sure of it. At the Professor's school, she won't just learn how to use her powers. She'll learn that she doesn't have to be afraid of them. We protect our own. Period."
I gestured to Charles. "The school is a sanctuary. It's hidden, it's safe, and she'll be surrounded by people who know exactly what she's going through."
Carmen looked up, her eyes watery. "But... will we ever see her? If she goes to New York... is she just gone? Are we allowed to be her parents anymore?"
Charles opened his mouth, his "Safety of the Secret" speech already forming. "Mrs. Pryde, for the safety of the student and the family, it is often best to limit contact during the initial—"
I cut him off.
"Every Friday night," I said.
Charles stiffened in his chair. He turned his head slowly to look at me, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.
"Logan," Charles warned in a low voice. "The protocols—"
I gave him a side-eye glance that was as sharp as a blade. I didn't care about protocols. I cared about the look on that mother's face. If we took her kid away and locked her in a mansion in New York, we weren't a school; we were a kidnapping ring.
"As soon as she learns the basics of her control," I continued, ignoring Charles's telepathic 'stop' signal. "I'll personally fly her home every Friday. She spends the weekend with you, and I pick her up Sunday night. You're her parents. Mutation doesn't change that."
The change in the room was instantaneous. The crushing weight of despair seemed to lift from Carmen's shoulders. She looked at her husband, a spark of hope in her eyes.
"You... you would do that?" she whispered.
"You have my word," I said.
Charles let out a long, slow sigh. He looked at me, seeing the absolute finality in my posture. He knew he wasn't going to win this one. Not today. And honestly, looking at the parents, he realized I had just sealed the deal better than any speech he could have given.
"Very well," Charles said, smoothing over the moment with his characteristic grace. "If Logan is willing to facilitate the transport, I see no reason why we cannot accommodate such an arrangement. Family is, after all, a powerful anchor for stability."
Jean Grey was staring at me from the armchair. Her mouth was slightly open, her green eyes filled with a mixture of astonishment and a growing sense of awe. She had known Logan as the "wild card," the dangerous man with the claws. Seeing him act as the emotional bridge for a grieving family was... new.
Charles cleared his throat, snapping Jean out of her daze.
"Jean," the Professor said. "I believe Kitty should be at her school by now. Perhaps it is time for that peer-to-peer conversation we discussed?"
Jean blinked, then nodded quickly. "Right. Yes. I'll... I'll go find her. I'll explain everything."
She stood up, offering a final, comforting nod to the Prydes. "I'll take a taxi. It'll look more natural."
As Jean headed for the door, she paused, looking back at me for a split second. There was a smile there—small, but genuine.
I just nodded back, leaning my back against the mantle once more.
"Go get 'em, Red," I grunted.
As the door clicked shut behind her, I checked the system. The quest still hadn't been finished by I knew what was coming soon, Avalanche or Lance whichever one doesn't matter, all that matters is his power to create tremors. If I wanted to prevent the kid from getting hurt i may need to upgrade my stats, it's too soon to show my new werewolf powers. So I checked my stats,
( It's just his stats, not his other abilities, so don't expect to see his buffs like Alpha or most of the Van Helsing abilities)
Status: Logan
(STR)30 (x2 Lycan Multiplier)
(AGI)30( x2 Lycan Multiplier)
(END)35( x2 Lycan Multiplier)
(INT)15
(CHA)20
(WIL)25
(Mutation): LEVEL 1, RETRACTABLE BONES CLAWS, REGENERATION, ACUTE SENSES
(Adamanitum): Locked
Upgrade points: 10
Back with Kitty:
Kitty Pryde stood at the edge of the track, pulling at the hem of her gym shorts. A few feet away, Riley and her best friend Amy were mid-stretch, their eyes darting toward Kitty with predatory precision.
"Check it out, Amy," Riley whispered loud enough for the wind to carry. "The Kitty Pitty Party is actually showing up for PE. I guess she didn't get enough of the locker this morning."
Amy smirked, touching her toes with effortless grace. "She's probably just here to hiss at the hurdles. Look at her jog up. Pathetic."
The sharp tweeeet of a silver whistle cut through the snickering. Coach Miller, a woman who looked like she was carved out of granite and old gym mats, glared at the approaching teen.
"Pryde! You're late!"
Kitty slowed to a halt, her chest heaving slightly. "I'm sorry, Coach. I was... like, totally having trouble with my locker. I lost track of time."
"Save the 'likes' for English class," the Coach barked. "Since you're so fond of being behind schedule, you can be first up. Everyone to the long jump! Pryde, you're on the runway. Move!"
Kitty's heart sank. She walked toward the sandpit, her head down. She hated the long jump. It was a public display of her lack of coordination, a moment for everyone to watch her fail in slow motion.
She didn't notice the figure perched on the edge of the school's flat roof. Lance Alvers sat with one boot dangling over the ledge, a cunning, hungry look in his eyes. He wasn't watching the class; he was watching her.
"Go on, Kitty," Riley called out from the sidelines. "Let's see if you can actually clear the dust."
Kitty took a breath, sprinted down the path, and leaped. Her form was awkward, her timing off. She didn't soar; she plummeted, her foot catching the edge of the pit. She landed face-first in the sand, a gritty mouthful of dust greeting her.
"Pathetic!" Amy laughed.
"Meow, Kitty! Need a litter box?" Riley mocked, making scratching motions in the air. "Take notes, 'Pitty.' This is how actual athletes do it."
Riley stepped up to the line, her face a mask of arrogant confidence. She began her sprint, her ponytail whipping behind her.
Up on the roof, Lance's eyes rolled back, turning a milky, terrifying white. He slammed a hand onto the gravel of the roof.
The ground didn't just shake; it cracked. A localized tremor tore through the runway, racing toward the sandpit like an invisible mole. Just as Riley hit the take-off board and launched herself into the air, Lance surged his power.
The sand beneath her didn't stay still. It erupted upward like a geyser, a mountain of grit and dust exploding ten feet into the air. Riley didn't land in a pit; she was buried under a collapsing dune.
"Gah! Help! I can't breathe!" Riley's voice was muffled as she scrambled out of the heap, looking less like a queen bee and more like a swamp monster.
The class fell into a stunned silence. Kitty, still on her knees, looked up. Her eyes caught a movement on the roof.
Lance was standing there, silhouetted against the grey sky. He gave her a slow, mocking wave and a wink before disappearing behind the ledge.
"Oh no," Kitty whispered. She scrambled up, ignoring the Coach's confused shouting, and ran. She needed to hide. She needed to be anywhere else.
She sprinted toward the side entrance of the school, head down, and slammed directly into a wall of red leather and soft perfume.
"Whoa! Careful!"
Kitty looked up into the concerned face of a beautiful older girl with vibrant red hair.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Kitty blurted out, her voice high and frantic. She didn't wait for a response, ducking around the stranger and disappearing into the building.
Jean Grey stood in the hallway, watching the girl go. She frowned, her fingers touching her temple. "So that's her."
Kitty found herself in the darkened theater room. The stage was set for a play—a dining room scene with a heavy mahogany table and stiff-backed chairs. It was quiet here. No mean girls. No earthquake boys.
"Stupid Riley," Kitty hissed, kicking one of the stage chairs. "Stupid school. Stupid... everything."
She leaned against the table, trying to catch her breath, but her weight caused the prop to tilt. She slipped, her feet sliding on the polished floor, and her arm swept across the table. A bowl of plastic fruit launched into the air.
"No!" Kitty reached out, her fingers splaying to catch the bowl.
Her hands passed right through the plastic.
The bowl fell through her palms, through her wrists, and clattered loudly onto the floor.
Kitty gasped, her hands trembling. She stared at them, looking for blood, for holes, for anything. They looked solid. She crouched down, tentatively reaching for the bowl again. This time, her fingers met solid plastic.
She took a deep breath. She concentrated on the feeling of the "shiver." She closed her eyes and pushed her hand down.
Her fingers sank into the bowl like it was made of water.
"Oh, god," she choked out. "It's happening again."
"Kitty?"
Kitty jumped, spinning around so fast she nearly fell. Her back hit the stage wall.
Jean Grey was walking down the center aisle of the theater, her expression soft, her hands held out in a gesture of peace.
"Are you... are you, like, one of Riley's friends?" Kitty demanded, her voice shaking. "Because I had nothing to do with the sand thing! I swear!"
"I'm not Riley's friend," Jean said, stopping at the edge of the stage. "And I know you didn't do the sand thing. That was... someone else."
"Then what do you want?" Kitty snapped. "Just leave me alone!"
"I can't do that, Kitty. Because I know what's going on with you."
"You don't know anything!" Kitty shouted, her anger masking her terror. "Neither does that creepy guy on the roof!"
Jean paused, her brow furrowing. "The guy on the roof? You mean Lance?" She shook her head. "This isn't about him, Kitty. It's about you. It's about the wonderful new gift you've been given."
"It isn't a gift!" Kitty cried. "I don't want it! I just want to be normal! Is that, like, too much to ask? To just be a normal girl who doesn't fall through floors?"
"Kitty, please. Just watch."
Jean raised her hand. Her eyes narrowed, a faint green glint appearing in her pupils.
The bowl of fruit on the floor began to rattle. Then, slowly, it lifted. It hovered in the air between them, rotating slowly.
Kitty's jaw dropped. "How... how did you do that?"
"It's just like you, Kitty," Jean said, stepping up onto the stage. She moved slowly, like she was approaching a wounded animal. "One day, I woke up and I just... had this power. I was terrified. I thought I was a freak, too."
Jean reached out, placing a gentle hand on Kitty's shoulder. "You can trust me. I hated it at first, too. But there are people who can help. A school—"
"I don't believe you!" Kitty shouted, twisting away. "It's a trick! You're probably just using magnets or wires or—"
"You do believe me, Kitty," Jean said, her voice calm and gentle. "Because of my other power, I can read minds."
Kitty froze. Her eyes went wide with a new kind of horror. "You... you're in my head? Stay out of my head! GET OUT!"
Kitty jumped off the stage and bolted for the exit, her heart hammering against her ribs. Jean watched her go with sadness whena rough hand grabbed her shoulder and forced her to turn around.
"Hey! Back off, Red!"
Lance Alvers stood there, his eyes dark and spiteful. He shoved Kitty behind him, stepping into Jean's space.
"Here's a piece of advice," Lance sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "I'm the only friend this girl is gonna need. I'm the one who's gonna be showing her 'what's up,' so you should just back the hell off before I bring this whole theater down on your head."
Jean didn't flinch. She met his gaze with a cold, telepathic intensity. "You're making a mistake, Lance."
"Watch me," Lance spat.
Ten minutes later, Kitty was at her locker, shoving books into her bag with frantic, clumsy movements. She just wanted to go home.
A light tap on her shoulder made her spin around, a scream dying in her throat.
Lance was standing there. But the aggression from the theater was gone. He looked gentle, his eyes soft, a stark difference from the thug who had threatened Jean.
"Whoa, relax," he said softly. "It's just me."
"You're the earthquake guy," Kitty accused, slamming her locker door shut. CLANG. "And you're... you're reading my mind, too, aren't you?"
"No," Lance said, shaking his head. "I don't do the brain-spook stuff. I just... I went through it, too, Kitty. The shaking. The feeling like the world is too small for you. I know how lonely it is."
Kitty hesitated, her grip on her bag loosening. "You... you do?"
"Yeah. My foster parents thought I was a demon. My friends ran away." He stepped closer. "Meet me at the Principal's office in an hour. School's out, and the place will be empty. I'll show you how I have control. I can teach you, Kitty. No spooky mind-reading, no 'gifted' speeches. Just us."
Kitty looked at him. He seemed so sincere. So... like her.
"Okay," she whispered. "An hour."
The Pryde Residence:
Inside the living room, Carmen Pryde glanced at the wall clock. "School's out. We should go pick her up." She looked at Logan and the Professor. "Would you... would you like to come with us? I think it might be better if she sees you all together."
"We would be honored," Charles said.
I stood up, stretching my back. My supernatural senses were already on edge. The air felt... heavy.
"I'll pull the car around," Lance Pryde said, grabbing his keys.
Suddenly, the Professor's phone chirped. He answered it immediately. "Jean? What's the status?"
I watched Charles's face. His expression went from calm to grim in a heartbeat.
"I see," Charles said. "Do not lose sight of her, Jean. We are on our way."
He hung up and looked at the Prydes. His voice was no longer that of a recruiter; it was the voice of a commander.
"We need to go. Now. Kitty may be in danger."
Carmen let out a stifled cry. Lance didn't ask questions; he ran for the door.
"What's the word, Chuck?" I asked, my claws itching to break the skin.
"Lance Alvers has made contact," Xavier said, his wheelchair humming as he sped toward the exit. "And Jean believes he is planning to use her for something far more dangerous than a conversation."
I didn't wait. I vaulted over the porch railing and beat the parents to their own car.
"Move it, Lance!" I growled. "We got to help your kid !."
Kitty POV:
The shadows behind Deerfield High were long and cool, stretching out like dark fingers across the asphalt a stark contrast to the heat of the afternoon sun. The air was still heavy with the scent of the morning's rain, but the atmosphere around the school building felt different—charged, vibrating with a frequency that set my teeth on edge.
Lance Alvers was leaning against the brick wall near the back entrance, his expression unreadable until he saw Kitty walking toward him. She looked small, her shoulders hunched, her eyes red-rimmed.
"How do you... how do you take control?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I stopped a few feet away, my fingers twisting the hem of my shirt. "Because it feels like... it feels like everything is just falling apart. It's like admitting something that no one else wants to. That we're outsiders. That there's something... something wrong with us."
A single tear escaped my eye, tracking a path through the dust on my cheek.
Lance's expression softened, but it was a calculated softness. He stepped forward, reaching out and placing his hand under my chin, gently lifting my head so I had to look him in the eye.
"Don't sweat it, Kitty. Embrace it," he said, his voice a low, soothing hum. "The way I see it? Fate dealt us the winning cards. We just have to play them together. The 'normals' out there? They're afraid because they know we're the future."
"Nothing makes any sense anymore," I sobbed, her resolve crumbling.
"That's why I'm here," Lance whispered. "To light your path."
He draped an arm around my shoulder, steering me toward the wall of the Principal's office. "Fate is leading us right inside. Behind this wall is the key to evening the score. You want to feel powerful, Kitty? You want to feel like the world can't touch you? Then walk through."
I looked at the solid brick. I was trembling, but the fear was being overtaken by a desperate need to belong, to find someone who didn't look at me like I was a ticking time bomb.
So I stepped forward.
Lance stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders, a wicked, triumphant smirk playing on his lips which I didn't see. "Go on, Kitty-cat. Show me the ghost."
I took a breath, closed her eyes, and walked.
The cold tingle washed over her—the sensation of molecules sliding past molecules. I stepped through the brick, through the insulation, and into the darkened office. I didn't fall. I didn't panic.
I landed on the carpeted floor inside and let out a breathless, joyful laugh. Hopping on the spot, my eyes wide with wonder. I ran to the door and turned the lock, swinging it open to let Lance in.
"Did you see me?" I asked, my voice high and giddy, like a child showing off a new toy. "Did you see what I did?"
Lance stepped inside, looking around the office with a predator's gaze. "Wow, Kitty. How did it feel?"
"It was... it was totally unbelievable!" I cried, throwing my arms around him in a sudden, impulsive hug. "I didn't feel heavy! I felt like... like air!"
"That's it," Lance murmured into my hair, his eyes already drifting to the computer on the desk. "You're making it yours. Once you own it, it doesn't own you."
Logans( Liam)Pov:
Outside, a sleek black SUV screeched to a halt in the school's parking lot.
I vaulted out of the back seat before it even stopped moving, my boots hitting the pavement with a heavy thud. The Pryde family—Lance and Carmen—stumbled out after me, followed by Charles in his modified chair.
Jean was already there, pacing in front of the main entrance. Her face was pale, her fingers pressed to her temple.
"Where is she?" Lance Pryde shouted, his voice cracking with desperation.
"She's in the office," Jean said, pointing toward the administrative wing. "She... she broke in. She used her gift to phase through the wall."
"My Kitty? Breaking in?" Carmen gasped, clutching her husband's arm. "She's never even had a detention! She's a good girl!"
"She's a scared girl," I grunted, stepping past them. "And she's being led by a little shit who knows exactly which buttons to push."
Charles looked at Jean. "Go with them, Jean. Logan, lead the way. I will follow, but my chair will slow you down in the narrow halls. Use your senses."
I didn't need to be told twice. I didn't wait for the others. I took a deep breath, filtering out the smell of floor wax and old paper. There it was. The scent of ozone, fear, and the metallic tang of Lance Alvers' power.
I shifted. My muscles felt denser, my vision sharpening as the Van Helsing template hummed in my blood. I was a hunter, and the prey was cornered.
Inside the office, the only light came from the blue glow of a computer monitor.
Lance was tapping away at the keyboard, his face illuminated by the flickering light. A series of beeps echoed in the quiet room. He pulled a floppy disk from the drive, snickering to himself.
"Test answers, present and accounted for," he said, tapping the disk against his palm.
Kitty, who had been watching him with growing unease, took a step back. "Wait. Is that what this is about? Cheating? You told me we were... we were evening the score."
Lance looked at her, his expression hardening. The "gentle" mentor was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating opportunist. "The school uses tests like these to keep us down, Kitty. To label us, to rank us, to tell us we aren't good enough. No more. We take control now."
He turned back to the screen, his fingers flying. "Let's see... Kitty Pryde. Straight A student. Let's see how you feel about a few D-minuses. Or maybe we change the bully's grades to straight Fs."
"No!" Kitty shouted, lunging forward. She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him away from the desk. "Don't do that! It's wrong! I want to go home, Lance!"
Lance stood up, his height towering over her. He didn't let go; instead, he grabbed both of her wrists in one of his large hands, squeezing tight.
"Look, nobody loses here," he hissed, his eyes beginning to glow with a faint, tectonic light. "We're just evening the score. Don't be a coward, Kitty."
"It doesn't feel right!" she cried, struggling against his grip. "Let me go! I want my mom! I want—"
SNIKT.
The sound of metal sliding through flesh and bone echoed through the office like a gunshot.
"I'd let her go, bub. Before I decide to shorten your arms."
Lance spun around, pulling Kitty with him as a human shield.
Standing in the doorway was a nightmare in leather. I stood there, my claws extended, the three blades on each hand gleaming with a cold, blue light. Behind me, Lance and Carmen Pryde stood frozen in shock, with Jean Grey—now clad in her dark training suit—flanking them.
"Kitty!" her father cried, his heart breaking at the sight of his daughter held captive. "Let her go!"
Lance Alvers didn't back down. "Far enough, old man!"
He slammed his free hand into the ground. A shockwave ripped through the floorboards. A massive, heavy oak bookshelf began to tilt, groaning as it prepared to crush Lance Pryde.
I didn't think. I didn't even feel the movement.
With the Apex Speed of the Van Helsing template, I was a blur of motion. I appeared beside the falling shelf before it could drop more than an inch. My claws moved in a whirlwind of silver.
Slash. Rip. Shred.
The heavy wood and hundreds of books were reduced to splinters and confetti before they could touch the floor. I stood in the debris, my eyes glowing a feral, predatory yellow.
"No! Stop it!" Kitty screamed, her eyes wide with terror.
"They're just trying to confuse you, Kitty!" Lance shouted, tugging her toward the back wall. "We're leaving. They don't want you; they want to control you!"
"Kitty, please!" Carmen cried, her hands reaching out. "We can work this out! Just come to us!"
"Let go of me!" Kitty sobbed, trying to phase through Lance's grip, but his own energy was disrupting her focus. "Lance, stop! You're hurting me!"
"We're in control now!" Lance roared, his ego overtaking his logic. "We make our own way!"
Lance Pryde took a step forward. He wasn't a superhero. He wasn't a mutant. He was just a father. He looked at his daughter—really looked at her—and the shame of the previous night washed over his face.
"Kitty," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I pushed you to this. I know I did. I was afraid, and I made you feel like you had to hide. I'm learning, baby. I'm not perfect. But you..."
He took another step, ignoring the vibrating floor.
"You are perfect just the way you are. And no new gifts, no changes, no walls... nothing will ever change that. I love you, my little girl. Please. Come home."
Kitty's face crumpled. "Daddy..."
Lance Alvers let out a roar of pure, frustrated rage. If he couldn't have her, no one would. "THEN ROT HERE!"
He channeled everything he had into the foundation of the building. The walls began to groan. Cracks spider-webbed across the ceiling. Dust and plaster rained down as the entire wing of the school began to buckle.
I moved instantly, looming over the Prydes, my broad shoulders acting as a shield as the first of the heavy debris began to fall. Jean raised her hands, her eyes glowing emerald as she projected a telekinetic shield to hold back the larger slabs of concrete.
"Logan! I can't hold it all!" Jean strained, her nose beginning to bleed from the effort.
I knew I could end Lance right now. I could put a claw through his throat before he could blink. But I looked at Kitty. She was the one who had to make the choice. If I saved her by force, she'd always be a victim.
"Kitty!" Jean shouted over the roar of the collapsing building. "You said your powers were a curse! If you go with him, they will be! He'll use you until there's nothing left!"
"Listen to her, Kitty!" Carmen pleaded. "We love you!"
Lance Alvers pulled her toward a hole he had blasted in the wall. "It's too late! She's with me now!"
Kitty looked at Lance. She saw the rage, the selfishness, the hollow promise of "control." Then she looked at her father, who was willing to stay in a collapsing building just to be near her.
"No," Kitty whispered. "I'm not."
She concentrated. Not with fear, but with the memory of her father's voice. She phased, her entire body turning into a ghost. She slipped through Lance's grip like smoke through fingers.
"NO!" Lance roared.
Kitty turned and sprinted toward her parents.
But the building was done. A massive section of the concrete ceiling, tons of steel and stone, gave way directly above her.
"KITTY!" her parents screamed.
I didn't hesitate. I didn't care about the secret. I didn't care about the template.
My eyes flared a brilliant, divine gold. I launched myself forward, a blur of fur and muscle. I didn't reach for her; I covered her.
I slammed into the floor, pulling Kitty beneath me, my body arching like a dome. The ceiling came down with a sound like the world ending.
BOOM.
Dust billowed outward, choking the air. Lance Alvers, horrified by what he had done, turned and fled through the hole in the wall, disappearing into the night.
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Jean was on her knees, her shield flickering as she tried to keep the remaining structure from crushing the Pryde parents. Charles's voice echoed in her head. [Jean! Use everything you have! I am with you!]
The parents were sobbing, clawing at the massive pile of rubble where their daughter had disappeared. "Kitty! Oh god, Kitty!"
Then, a sound rose from beneath the stones.
It wasn't a human sound. It was a low, guttural, beast-like roar of pure, stubborn defiance.
The rubble began to shift. A massive slab of concrete was heaved upward, thrown aside like it was made of cardboard.
I stood up from the wreckage.
My shirt was gone, shredded to ribbons, revealing my bare, chiseled chest. There were cuts on my shoulders that were already knitting shut, and dust coated my skin.
And in my arms, I held Kitty.
She was tucked against my chest, her head resting over my heart. She slowly opened her eyes, looking up at me through the dust.
"You... you saved me," she breathed, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and profound gratitude.
I didn't have a witty comeback. I just looked down at her and gave her a small, tired smile. "Just glad you're alright, kid."
"KITTY!"
The parents rushed forward. I gently set her on her feet, and she flew into their arms. The three of them collapsed into a huddle of tears and laughter, the kind of embrace that reminded me why I was doing this in the first place.
I turned to Jean. She was swaying, her energy spent.
"Hold on, Red," I said.
I stepped over to her and, before she could protest, I hoisted her up onto my back.
"Logan! What are you—" she started, her face flushing crimson even through the exhaustion.
"Piggyback ride. Don't make it weird," I grunted.
I turned back to the Prydes. I didn't wait for them to walk. I reached out and scooped the three of them—Lance, Carmen, and Kitty—into a massive, awkward bear hug, pinning them against my sides.
"Hang on tight," I growled. "Jean, keep that bubble up for ten more seconds."
I didn't use the stairs. I didn't use the doors. I turned and sprinted, charging through three interior walls like they were made of wet paper, the adamantium in my bones and the werewolf strength making me an unstoppable force.
We burst through the final wall and out into the cool night air, skidding to a halt on the grass far away from the groaning school.
I set everyone down.
The Pryde family stayed huddled together, shaking but alive. I stood there, patting the dust out of my hair, my bare chest steaming in the cool air.
Jean slid off my back, leaning against me for a second to steady herself. She looked up at me, her eyes soft and sincere. "Are you okay, Logan?"
I looked at the cuts on my arms, watched the last of them vanish. "Ain't nothing I can't take, darlin'."
Jean smiled, a real, heartwarming smile that reached her eyes. "Thank you."
Charles rolled up to the group. The Prydes stood up, and for the first time, there was no fear in their eyes when they looked at him.
"Katherine," Charles said, his voice warm. "I am so very glad you are safe. And I am glad you have accepted the truth of your gifts."
Lance Pryde looked at his daughter, then at the smoking ruin of the school. He looked at Charles, and then finally, his gaze settled on me.
He walked over and extended his hand. I took it. His grip was firm.
"The Professor tells me he has a school," Lance said. "To teach her how to use... all of this. I trust him to help her."
He paused, looking me dead in the eye.
"But I trust you to protect her."
I nodded, a silent promise. "She's family now, Lance. And we don't let anything happen to family."
Kitty looked at me, then at Jean and Charles. A small, hopeful smile lit up her face. "I trust them too," she whispered.
As the sirens of the first responders echoed in the distance, a golden screen flickered in my mind.
[QUEST COMPLETE: KITTY CAT OUT OF THE BOX]
[OBJECTIVE MET: RECRUIT KATHERINE PRYDE]
[BONUS: PARENTAL TRUST SECURED]
[REWARD: +10 INT, +5 CHA, MUTATION LEVEL2]
[INTELLIGENCE HAS REACHED LEVEL 25. UNLOCKED BETA LEVEL TELEPAHY REISTANCE]
[CHARISMA HAS REACHED LEVEL 25. UNLOCKED CHARM OF THE ANIMAL]
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS: KITTY PRYDE (HEROIC GRATITUDE)]
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS: JEAN GREY (ADMIRATION)]
I looked at the group, the weight of the day finally settling in. I had the girl. I had the trust. And I had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
"Alright," I said, cracking my neck. " I'm beat anyone up for some hot chocolate?"
Kitty/Jean: "ME!"
Prydes/Charles:" HAHAHAHA!"