The drywall dust hung in the air, a choking white mist illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the shattered window. In the darkness of the downstairs hallway, a pile of debris shifted.
Mystique groaned, a sound that was less human and more like a wounded animal. She pushed a slab of plaster off her chest, her blue skin bruised and coated in white dust. Her jaw was hanging at a sickening, unnatural angle—the result of a right hook that felt like getting hit by a freight train.
She grasped her chin with both hands, her yellow eyes watering with hateful tears. She took a sharp breath through her nose.
CRACK.
She screamed, a short, sharp yelp, as she forced the bone back into the socket. She rolled her neck, feeling the shapeshifter physiology already knitting the ligaments back together, but the phantom pain throbbed like a drumbeat.
"Animal..." she hissed, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the carpet. "Filthy, feral animal."
She reached into the pocket of her ruined suit jacket—which was currently mimicking the texture of a high-end tuxedo—and pulled out a phone. Her fingers shook with rage as she dialed.
"Answer me, Irene," she snarled.
"Raven?" Irene's voice came through, frantic. "Did you find her? Is she—"
"Shut up!" Mystique screamed into the phone, her voice cracking. "You said he was coming. You didn't say he was already here! That... thing... that Wolverine... he hit me before I even knew he was in the room! He's faster, Irene. He's stronger than when we last met!"
"Raven, listen to me—"
"No, you listen! He took her!" Mystique scrambled to her feet, stumbling slightly. "He has the girl. And I can't take him alone. Not like this."
She wiped the blood from her lip, her eyes narrowing into slits of pure venom.
"Call him, Irene."
"Raven, no... it's too volatile..."
"CALL HIM!" Mystique roared. "Tell him to bring them here. Tell him to bring the cat and the speedster. If Xavier wants a war for this girl, then we're going to burn the whole state of Mississippi to the ground to get her back. She is my daughter, MINE!"
She hung up and smashed the phone against the wall, breathing heavily.
Upstairs:
I heard every word.
My Apex Senses picked up the conversation from downstairs as if she were whispering directly into my ear. Magneto. Brotherhood. Sabretooth. The band was getting back together, and they were bringing the heavy artillery.
"We gotta go," I muttered, the growl vibrating in my chest.
Rogue was still on her knees, sobbing into her hands, lost in memories that weren't hers. "Who am I... I don't know... make it stop..."
"Kid, we don't have time for the breakdown," I said, my voice urgent. "Her friends are coming, and they ain't the friendly type."
"Where... where are we goin'?" Rogue stammered, looking up with tear-filled eyes.
"Someplace safe. Now hold on."
I didn't wait for permission. I swept her up into my arms in a princess carry, her weight negligible against my enhanced strength.
"Hey! Put me down!" she cried, startled.
I didn't answer. I turned and leaped through the shattered window, clearing the sill without touching it. I hit the lawn running.
And when I say running, I mean running.
With 90 Agility, and my semi-wolf state the world blurred. The trees became streaks of black against the grey night sky. The wind roared in our ears like a jet engine. I was cutting through the neighbourhood at almost 90 miles per hour, my boots tearing up clods of earth with every stride.
"Stop it! You're goin' too fast!" Rogue screamed, clutching my shirt. The G-force pressed her against me, and the panic that had been simmering in her gut boiled over.
She didn't know who I was. To her, I was just another monster who had burst into her life. She was scared, disoriented, and desperate. Though he comforted her before, his face was still the same as the one who attacked her.
"I said put me down!"
She started to squirm, kicking her legs.
"Rogue, stop moving!" I gritted out, dodging a low-hanging branch. "I'm trying to save your life!"
"I don't know you!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"
In her blind panic, she lashed out. Her hand—her bare, ungloved hand—slammed onto my cheek.
The connection was instant.
It felt like someone had hooked jumper cables to my brain and clipped the other end to a dying battery.
[WARNING: LIFE FORCE DRAIN DETECTED] [CRITICAL ALERT: MENTAL SHIELDS BREACHED] [SUBJECT 'ROGUE' IS ABSORBING HOST MEMORIES/VITALITY[ ADAPTIVE REGENERATION IN PROGRESS]
"ARGH!"
My vision flashed white. My knees locked up mid-stride.
Flash. The smell of cigar smoke. The pain of the Adamantium bonding. The face of Jean Grey not of today but of the possible future. The cold snow of Japan.
I tried slowing down as much as possible but still I tripped. At sixty miles an hour, tripping is not fun trust me.
We went down. I tried to twist my body to take the impact, but momentum is a cruel mistress. We tumbled across the rough asphalt of an empty street. I slammed into a guardrail, metal groaning, while Rogue was thrown from my arms, skidding across the gravel.
"Ugh..." I groaned, the world spinning. My healing factor surged, knitting together the road rash on my arms instantly.
I looked up. "Rogue!"
She was lying on the grass a few feet away. Her stockings were torn at the knee, and there was a nasty gash on her forearm from a sharp rock. She was gasping, clutching her head.
"No... no more pictures..." she whimpered.
Then, she froze. She looked at her arm.
The gash—the bleeding, jagged cut—was steaming. Before her eyes, the skin knit itself together. The blood vanished. In three seconds, the arm was pristine, leaving only smooth, pale skin.
She stared at it, horrified. She looked at me, then back at her arm.
"I... I healed?" she whispered, her Southern accent trembling. "Just like... just like you?"
I pushed myself up, shaking the dizziness from my head. The drain had been short, but intense. My stats flickered in my HUD.
[VITALITY: RECOVERING (85%)] [MENTAL RESISTANCE: 39% (TEMPORARILY COMPROMISED)[LIFE FORCE DRAIN 20% RESISTANCE]
"Yeah," I rasped, spitting out a blade of grass. "Just like me."
Rogue scrambled backward, scrambling away from me until her back hit a tree. She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arms. "I hurt you... I didn't mean to... Oh god, I'm a monster... I stole it from you..."
I sighed, the anger vanishing as quickly as it had come. I stood up slowly, holding my hands out to show I wasn't attacking.
"You didn't steal it, kid. You borrowed it. And I got plenty to spare. Believe me"
I walked over to her, but stopped a few feet away. "We can't stay here. But we can't run like that again. Come on."
I spotted a rusted chain-link fence nearby, marking the edge of a small, playground. "Let's sit. Just for a minute."
We walked in silence towards an old rusty swing set. It was old, the paint peeling to reveal rusted iron underneath. It creaked while moving slightly in the wind.
Rogue sat on one swing, wrapping her arms around the chains as if they were the only things keeping her tethered to the earth. I sat on the other, the metal groaning in protest under my enhanced weight.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the crickets and the distant hum of the highway.
"Why is this happenin' to me?" Rogue whispered finally. She didn't look at me. She stared at her boots. "First Cody... now you. I touch people, and they fall down. And I... I become them."
I took a deep breath, leaning back. I needed to tell her the truth. No sugarcoating.
"You're a mutant, Rogue," I said softly. "Like me. Like the people coming to help you."
She flinched at the word. "A mutant? You mean... like on the news? The freaks?"
"We ain't freaks," I corrected gently. "We're the next step. But evolution... mutations, it ain't always pretty. Sometimes it hurts."
I looked at her, seeing the young girl terrified of her own skin. I remembered her future, her life from the comics, from the shows. I knew her story. I knew about her mother, of how she'd spend years looking for a place to call home. I knew about the isolation that was coming.
"Your power," I continued, choosing my words carefully. "It's absorption. Skin-to-skin contact. You take their life force, their memories, their abilities. It's why you healed back there. You took a bit of my healing factor."
Rogue let out a shaky sob. "So I can't... I can't ever touch nobody? Not never?"
"I ain't gonna lie to you, darlin'," I said. "Right now? No. It's uncontrolled. It's raw."
She looked up, and the look on her face broke my heart. It was a look of absolute, crushing devastation.
"Then I'm cursed," she cried, the tears spilling over. "I'm alone. I can't hug my mama. I can't hold a boy's hand. I'm just... poison."
She buried her face in her hands again. "I should just go hide somewhere alone and die. It'd be better for everyone."
The darkness of that thought hung in the air. I could feel it rolling off her—the desire to just end the pain before it really started.
I stood up.
[WARNING: MENTAL RESISTANCE AT 39%] [ADVISORY: PHYSICAL CONTACT NOT RECOMMENDED]
I ignored the prompt. I walked over to her swing and knelt down in the dirt, putting myself at eye level with her.
"Look at me," I said.
She shook her head.
"Rogue. Look at me."
Slowly, she lifted her head. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, haunted.
"You ain't poison," I said firmly. "And you sure as hell ain't dying in no swamp. You think you're alone? You think nobody understands what it's like to be dangerous?"
I held up my hand. SNIKT.
I popped the claws. Just for a second. The metal gleamed in the moonlight.
"I got claws in my hands, kid. I've hurt a lot of people. I've spent a lifetime thinking I was nothing but a weapon. Thinking I didn't deserve to be around decent folks."
I retracted the claws.
"But I found a family. A strange, dysfunctional, messy family. And they took me in. They'll take you in, too."
"But I can't touch them!" she wailed. "I'll hurt them!"
"You won't hurt me."
I held out my hand. Palm up. Ungloved.
Rogue stared at it like it was a live grenade. She recoiled, pressing herself back against the swing chain. "No! Are you crazy? You saw what happened! I almost killed that boy! I hurt you!"
"You surprised me," I said calmly. "I wasn't ready. Now I am."
"I can't!" she sobbed. "I won't do it!"
"Rogue," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "You need to know that you aren't broken. You need to know that you can have a connection. Trust me."
I reached out.
"Don't!" she screamed, pulling her hand back.
But I was faster. I gently, deliberately, wrapped my fingers around her hand.
ZZZZZT.
The connection hit instantly.
[ALERT: ABSORPTION DETECTED] [LIFE FORCE DRAINING...] [ADAPTIVE REGENERATION: LIFE FORCE DRAIN RESISTANCE +20%]
My veins bulged instantly against my skin, turning dark. I felt the energy rushing out of me like water from a firehose. I felt the dizziness, the nausea. I felt her mind trying to claw into mine, trying to pull out the memories of the wars, the pain, the blood.But I also felt my regeneration working over time and faster than before I could feel my life force return while my mental defense slowly lowered by 1% every 3 seconds eventaully reaching 0.5% every six seconds.
But I fought back.
Hold the line, I told the System. Block the memories. Feed the body.
[MENTAL RESISTANCE: HOLDING] [REGEN RATE: MATCHING DRAIN OUTPUT]
It hurt. God, it hurt. It felt like burning ice running up my arm. My hand started to tremble.
Rogue's eyes went wide. She tried to pull away. "Let go! I'm hurtin' you! I can feel it!"
"I'm fine," I gritted out through clenched teeth. I forced a smile. It was tight, but it was there. "See? I'm still here."
I squeezed her hand.
"I'm the best there is at what I do," I said, my voice straining. "And what I do... is heal. You can't drain me dry, Rogue. I've got too much life in me."
She stared at our joined hands. She could feel the energy flowing, but the man in front of her wasn't collapsing. He didn't fall like Cody, and he smiled, God he smiled so gentle at her it felt surreal.
"Why?" she whispered, the tears flowing freely now. "Why would you do this?"
"Because everyone needs an anchor, Sugar," I joked softly. "If you ever need a hand to hold... if you ever need to know you're real... I'm right here. You ain't gotta be scared of me. I can take it."
The wall she had built around her heart in the last few hours—the wall of fear and isolation—crumbled into dust.
She didn't pull away. She launched herself forward.
She fell off the swing and crashed into my chest, wrapping her arms around my neck. She buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tight. The drain had stopped fortunately and I was exhausted but I managed to do it. I managed to help her even if just a little.
"Thank you," she choked out into my shirt. "Thank you... thank you..."
"I gotcha," I murmured, resting my chin on her head. "I gotcha, kid."
We stayed like that for a long time, the unkillable man and the girl who couldn't touch, holding onto each other in the dark.
"LOGAN!"
The shout broke the silence.
I looked up. Running across the grass of the park, phasing through the chain-link fence, was Kitty Pryde. And right behind her, popping into existence with a BAMF, was Kurt.
"There they are!" Kitty yelled, pointing at us.
They sprinted over, breathless.
"We saw the debris!" Kurt gasped. "Are you alright? Is this her?"
Kitty skidded to a halt, looking at the scene. She saw the tears on Rogue's face. She saw me holding her, looking paler than usual but steady.
"Is she... is she okay?" Kitty asked softly.
I looked down at Rogue. She pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes. She looked at the blue elf and the girl who just walked through a wall. She looked scared, but for the first time, she didn't look like broken.
"She's gonna be fine," I said, standing up and helping Rogue to her feet. I kept my hand on her shoulder, letting her draw just a little bit of strength to keep her steady.
I looked at Rogue. "Meet the family, kid."
Rogue sniffled, looking at Kurt's tail and Kitty's concerned face. A tiny, fragile smile touched her lips.
"Hey y'all," she whispered.
Kitty Pryde, her face a mask of bubbly enthusiasm, bounced slightly on her heels as she looked at the newcomer. Beside her, Kurt Wagner an excited toothy grin, his yellow eyes wide with friendly curiosity.
"Hi! I'm Kitty," she beamed, stepping forward. "And this is Kurt. We're… well, we're the students. It's so awesome to meet you."
Kurt gave a little bow, his tail flicking nervously behind him. "Hallo. It is gut to meet you, fraulein."
Rogue, standing wrapped in her layers of clothing, warm despite the night looked between them with a mixture of longing and trepidation. She adjusted her gloves, her voice soft and thick with a southern drawl. "I'm… I'm Rogue."
"Nice to meet you, Rogue!" Kitty chirped. Instinctively, she reached out her hand to shake Rogue's, a universal gesture of welcome.
The reaction was instantaneous and heartbreaking. Rogue recoiled as if Kitty's hand were a live flame. She snapped her hand behind her back, taking a sharp step backward, her eyes widening in panic.
"No!" Rogue gasped out, her voice trembling. "I… I can't. You can't touch me."
Kitty froze, her hand hovering in empty air, confusion knitting her brows. Kurt tilted his head, his ears drooping slightly. "Did we do something wrong?"
Logan, who stood beside Rogue smiled warmly at the girl. "Ease up, half-pint," he grumbled, though his tone wasn't unkind. He placed a hand on Kitty's shoulder, gently lowering it. "It's complicated. She's got her reasons. You'll understand later."
Kitty looked at Logan, then back at Rogue's terrified expression, slowly nodding. "Oh. Okay. Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It ain't your fault," Logan muttered.
But as the words left his mouth, the air shifted.
It wasn't a sound. It was a smell. A sudden, acrid spike of ozone mixed with a musk that made the hair on the back of Logan's neck stand up like steel wire. His nostrils flared. His mind, usually a chaotic storm of two lifetimes—Liam's memories and the Wolverine's instincts—snapped into a singular, razor-sharp focus.
How? The thought screamed in his head. How did they get this close?
His senses were unparalleled, stronger since his mutation reached level 2. He should have smelled them a mile out. He should have heard the heartbeat of a squirrel three trees over. But he had been distracted. He had been looking at Rogue, focused on giving her a semblance of peace.
Amateur, he snarled internally, self-hatred boiling in his gut. The real Wolverine never drops his guard. Gabriel Van Helsing would never be so sloppy. And now, they're going to pay for my mistake.
"Get down!" Logan roared, his body dropping into a defensive crouch.
But he was a split second too late.
A silver blur tore through the serene park setting. It moved with such violence that the wind pressure alone knocked Kurt off his feet. The blur whipped past Logan, the displacement of air feeling like a physical slap, and in the blink of an eye, Rogue was gone from her spot.
The blur coalesced into a solid form twenty yards away, near the park entrance.
Standing there, radiating a cold, imperious aura, was Mystique. Her blue skin was stark against the greenery, her red hair slicked back. But there was a mar on her perfection—a small, purple bruise on her cheek, a souvenir from a recent encounter. Beside her stood a teenage boy with striking silver hair, clad in a blue skintight suit with metallic silver guards on his chest and shoulders. He wore a smirk that dripped with unearned arrogance.
And at his feet, face down in the dirt, was Rogue. Her hands were pinned behind her back, her face pressed into the grass.
"Let me go!" Rogue screamed, thrashing against the boy's grip.
The boy, Quicksilver, merely laughed. It was a mocking, grating sound. "Sorry, sweetheart," he drawled, vibrating slightly as if standing still was painful for him. "Can't do that. Your mum says no."
Logan let out a roar that shook the leaves from the nearest branches. "Raven!"
He stepped forward, his fists clenched so tight the knuckles were white. "Let the girl go! How far have you fallen, Raven? Ambushing kids? Dragging them into the dirt?"
Mystique's yellow eyes narrowed, flashing with a venomous hate. "Spare me the lectures, Wolverine," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "Look at you. Playing the hero. Pretending to be a kind man, a teacher." She laughed, a cruel, hollow sound. "You're a coward, Logan. You've never been anything but an animal. A weapon for the garbage humans who hunt us. You don't save children; you turn them into soldiers. You and Charles"
Logan's teeth grinded against each other. He wanted to tear her apart, but Rogue was too close to the speedster.
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced the tension.
"LET GO OF ME!"
Logan spun around, his heart hammering against his ribs. In his focus on Raven, he had committed the second sin of the battlefield: tunnel vision.
Standing behind where the group had been, towering over a struggling Kurt, was Victor Creed. Sabretooth. The massive mutant had one hand wrapped entirely around Kitty's head, lifting her feet off the ground, while his other hand held Kurt by the tail, dangling him like a caught fish.
"Hello, Jimmy," Sabretooth rumbled, his voice like gravel grinding in a mixer. He grinned, exposing yellowed fangs. "You've lost your edge. I walked right up on you. Did the domestic life dull your edge, little brother?"
Logan stared at him. He felt different. The anger wasn't just the berserker rage of the Wolverine anymore; it was the cold, calculating fury of a man who had lived a thousand lives and killed things that went bump in the night. The power in his veins felt ancient, heavier, stronger.
"Let her go, Victor," Logan said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly low octave.
"Make me," Sabretooth sneered.
Something inside Logan snapped.
He didn't just run; he exploded into motion. The ground beneath his boots shattered, sending clumps of earth flying backward. He moved faster than Sabretooth expected—faster than he had ever moved before.
"Kitty! Phase!" Logan bellowed.
Sabretooth's eyes widened. He squeezed, intending to crush the girl's skull, but his massive hand suddenly passed straight through her head as if she were made of smoke. Kitty gasped, her body turning intangible just in time, and she dropped through Sabretooth's body, solidifying only when she hit the ground and rolled away.
"What the—?" Victor started.
He didn't finish. Logan was there.
Logan slammed into his half-brother with the force of a freight train, his shoulder driving into Victor's gut. But before Logan could follow up, the air crackled with ozone again.
Quicksilver.
The speedster arrived in a blur of motion. He didn't punch Logan; he used his momentum to deliver a strike that hit with the force of a cannonball.
CRACK.
Logan's head snapped back. His body was lifted off the ground and hurled backward. He flew through the air, crashing through the steel supports of the children's playground set. Metal screeched and twisted, the slide and swings collapsing on top of him in a heap of tangled iron and dust.
"LOGAN!" Kitty and Kurt screamed in unison, scrambling toward the wreckage.
Rogue, still pinned near Mystique, stared in horror at the pile of metal. She turned her gaze to Raven, tears welling in her eyes. "Why are you doing this?" she cried. "Who are you people?"
Raven walked over to Rogue, crouching down. Her expression softened, but it was a twisted, possessive kind of softness. "Is that any way to look at your mother, my dear?"
Rogue froze. The world seemed to stop spinning. The breath hitched in her throat. "My… my mother?"
Raven nodded, reaching out to stroke Rogue's cheek. "It's the truth. I am your mother, and that woman… the one who raised you… I asked her to raise you for me."
"No," Rogue whispered, shaking her head. "No, you left me."
"I left to protect you!" Raven lied, her voice smooth as silk, weaving a web of deceit. "I left because the world wasn't safe for us. I did it out of love, Rogue. I did it so I could come back when I was strong enough to keep you safe from people like him." She pointed a clawed finger toward the wreckage where Logan lay.
Behind them, the pile of steel shifted.
A low, guttural groan emanated from the debris. Then, a roar that sounded like it came from the depths of hell.
Metal beams were thrown aside like matchsticks. Logan rose from the dust. His healing factor was already knitting the flesh on his face back together, steam rising from his skin. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, and looked at the Brotherhood.
Snikt.
It was chime of Adamantium. His claws a foot long each potruding out the gap between his knuckles, the skin arround them stitching up tightly around the blade as they pierced skin.
"Stay back," Logan growled to Kitty and Kurt, stepping in front of them. "I'll handle this."
"But Logan—" Kurt started, his tail twitching. "We can help!"
"No!" Logan barked. "You're kids. Not soldiers!"
It was the one thing Liam and Logan shared perfectly—the absolute refusal to let children bleed for them. The protector in him, the past life in him, refused to let them be soldiers.
Logan charged.
He was a force of violence. He intercepted Quicksilver's next run, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to predict the path, forcing the speedster to veer off. He clashed with Sabretooth, sparks flying as claws met claws. But it was three against one. Quicksilver was too fast, landing cheap shots and darting away. Sabretooth was a tank, absorbing blows and laughing. Mystique fired precise shots from a handgun she had drawn, the bullets flattening against Logan's skull but slowing him down.
Kitty watched, her heart pounding. "He's getting killed out there," she whispered. "He like can't protect us if he's dead !"
Kurt looked at the chaos, then at Rogue, who was looking more confused and terrified by the second. "We have to do something," the elf teleporter said.
"I have a plan," Kitty said, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Logan said no fighting. He didn't say no rescuing."
She turned to Kurt. "Grab Rogue. I'll distract the blue lady."
"Are you crazy?" Kurt hissed.
"Just be ready!" Kitty shouted.
She didn't wait for permission. Kitty sprinted toward Mystique.
"Hey! Lady!" Kitty yelled.
Raven turned, sneering. "Foolish girl."
As Kitty lunged, Raven, with decades of combat experience, spun into a lethal high kick aimed squarely at Kitty's temple. It was a blow meant to shatter bone.
Kitty didn't flinch. She concentrated, and just as the blue boot connected, she phased.
Raven's leg passed harmlessly through Kitty's head. The momentum of the kick, meeting no resistance, threw Raven off balance. Her eyes went wide in shock.
"Gotcha," Kitty smirked. She solidified her shoulder just as she tackled Raven's midsection, driving the shapeshifter into the dirt.
"NOW, KURT!"
BAMF.
The air exploded with the smell of brimstone. Kurt appeared directly behind where Rogue lay. Before Quicksilver could react, Kurt grabbed Rogue's shoulder.
"I am here to help, fraulein!" Kurt shouted.
BAMF.
They vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, reappearing thirty feet back, near the tree line where they had started.
Mystique, snarling in rage, shoved Kitty off her. She swung a backhand slap, but Kitty phased again, the hand swiping through her cheek like she was a ghost.
"Can't touch this!" Kitty mocked, scrambling backward and running toward Kurt and Rogue.
Meanwhile, Logan had found his rhythm. Quicksilver, seeing Raven tackled, lost his cool. He zoomed in, aiming to break Logan's knees.
"You're too slow, old man!" Pietro taunted.
"Am I?" Logan grunted.
As Pietro passed, Logan didn't try to hit him. He anticipated him. He threw his elbow back blindly, timing it with the instinct of the beast.
THWACK.
Adamantium-laced bone connected with the speedster's chest. The breath left Pietro in a wheeze, and he tumbled across the grass, skidding to a halt.
Logan didn't pause. He lunged at Sabretooth, who was distracted by Pietro's fall. Logan tackled the giant, driving him into the ground. He pummeled Victor's face, ignoring the claws raking his own chest.
"Pietro!" Raven screamed, scrambling to her feet. "Get the girl! Now!"
Pietro, gasping for air, shook his head and glared at the trio of students by the trees. "On it," he wheezed.
He blurred into motion.
Kurt saw him coming. "Hold on!" he yelled to Rogue and Kitty.
BAMF.
Pietro arrived at the spot they occupied a millisecond too late, his hands grasping empty air.
BAMF.
Kurt reappeared twenty feet to the left. Pietro spun and charged again.
BAMF.
Kurt teleported again, this time placing himself directly in front of a massive oak tree.
Pietro, blinded by frustration and speed, saw Kurt appear and pushed his legs to the limit. "Got you!"
At the last possible second, Kurt grinned.
BAMF.
He vanished.
There was a sickening THUD.
Pietro, unable to stop, slammed face-first into the solid oak trunk. The tree shook, leaves raining down. Pietro peeled off the bark like a cartoon character and collapsed backward, unconscious.
"Ooh," Kitty winced, reappearing next to Kurt and Rogue. "That's gonna hurt."
Kurt shrugged innocently. "Can't catch the fuzzy guy huh ?!."
Back in the center of the park, the battle was ending. Logan had mounted Sabretooth. His fists were pistons of rage. He punched Victor once, twice, three times, shattering the mutant's nose. Then, with a roar, he popped his claws fully.
"RAAAAAH!"
He drove the foot-long blades deep into Sabretooth's shoulders, pinning him to the earth. He hauled the screaming giant upright, lifting him clear off the ground by his impaled flesh.
"Get. Out."
Logan spun and hurled Sabretooth. The massive mutant flew through the air, crashing through the chain-link fence Raven was standing near, landing in a heap at her feet.
Silence fell over the park, broken only by Logan's heavy breathing. He stood there, blood dripping from his claws, his shirt in tatters, looking like the nightmare Raven had accused him of being.
"Logan!"
The voice was calm, authoritative. A mental balm.
A van screeched to a halt at the curb. The side door slid open, and Professor Charles Xavier wheeled himself onto the lift, flanked by Scott Summers and Jean Grey.
"Are you alright?" Charles asked, his eyes scanning the scene, his mind already checking the students for trauma.
Logan didn't turn. He kept his eyes on Raven. He gave a curt nod.
"We're good," Kitty called out, her voice shaky but defiant. "We're okay, Professor."
Raven stood up, helping a groaning Victor to his feet. She looked at the X-Men, then at Logan, and finally, her gaze burned into Charles.
"Give her to me, Charles," Raven demanded, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "She is my daughter. She belongs with me."
"I cannot do that, Raven," Charles said softly, his voice echoing in their minds. "She is not property. She is a person. And I will not let you corrupt her."
"SHE IS MINE!" Raven screamed, her composure shattering. She turned her desperate eyes to the girl. "Rogue! Come to me! Now! Don't let them take you!"
Rogue looked at Raven. She saw the rage, the manipulation, the violence. Then she looked at Logan. He was bloody, terrifying, and brutal—but he stood between her and Raven like a wall of Adamantium. He hadn't asked her for anything. He protected her, he even gave her his hand knowing it would hurt.
Slowly, deliberately, Rogue took a step. Not toward Raven.
She stepped behind Logan.
Logan felt the movement. He heard the small scuff of her boot. A low, rumbling growl started deep in his chest. He locked eyes with Mystique.
His eyes weren't just white or brown. They glowed with a faint, predatory yellow luminescence.
Raven took a step forward, and Logan snarled. It wasn't human. It was the sound of a predator claiming its territory.
A ripple of psychic pressure hit Raven. She froze. She felt it—a cold, ancient certainty radiating from the man standing before her. It wasn't Wolverine. It was something older. Something darker. The monster that was Gabriel Van Helsing stared out through Logan's eyes, and the message was clear: Take one more step, it will be your last.
The beast had decided. The girl was under his protection. And for the first time in years, Mystique felt true fear. She knew, with absolute certainty, that her next step toward Rogue would be the last step she ever took.
She stepped back.
She signaled to the groaning Pietro, who was dragging himself upright. "We're leaving."
She looked at Charles, then glared hatefully at Logan and Rogue.
"This isn't over," she hissed. "Mark my words, Charles. Your dream will die. Humanity will never accept us. They will come for us with torches and pitchforks, and when they do... don't say I didn't warn you."
She ordered Pietro to grab Victor. The speedster groaned, grabbed the unconscious brute and his mother, and in a blur of silver, they were gone.
Logan stood still for a long moment, the scent of them fading. Only when he was sure they were truly gone did he retract his claws. The metal slid back into his hands with a wet snikt.
He turned to look at the kids. Rogue was trembling.
Logan sighed, the yellow fading from his eyes, replaced by a weary kindness.
"Hey chuck, meet Rogue." he said with a hand on her shoulder and looking at Charles.