" We're under attack!" a guard's voice cracked through the morning silence—followed immediately by a scream that was cut short, sharp and final.
It was still early. Most of us hadn't even gotten out of bed. The gunfire started like thunder, echoing through the orphanage walls, followed by the heavy thuds of boots and guttural shouts. Panic spread like wildfire.
The kids were hysterical, crying and scrambling for cover. Roxanne and I rushed to calm them, her voice cutting through the chaos, mine trying to steady their fear. We didn't know who the enemy was—but we knew something was horribly wrong.
That's when Doctor Trask appeared, stepping in from the back with a sleek remote in hand and that same calm, eerie expression he always wore when things got serious.
"Everyone, settle down," he said smoothly. "Do what I say, and you'll be safe."
It was like a switch flipped. The kids froze mid-panic. Their tears dried. Their eyes glossed over. One by one, their expressions went blank—eerily blank.
"Roxanne?" I called her name, waving my hand in front of her face. Her pupils were wide, unblinking, like her soul had been locked out of her own body.
"Doctor… something's wrong with them. They're not themselves," I said.
Trask didn't answer. He was too busy fiddling with the tablet in his hands, a smirk twitching at the edge of his lips.
"Their vitals are optimal. Mind-link connection is solid. I did it…" he muttered to himself, then laughed—a short, joyless sound that sent chills down my spine.
Then he looked at me.
"You've been a problem from the beginning," he said, that grin turning cruel.
"Your integration was successful, but you retained your independence. That makes you a failure."
A failure? My mind spun trying to grasp what he meant.
"Integration? What are you talking about?"
He adjusted his glasses, eyes wide with twisted pride. "You're all part of the Sentinel Program. Nanotech-enhanced hybrids—human shells with machine minds. Obedient, lethal, perfect. Except you. You kept your free will. That makes you… defective."
The words hit like a punch. I staggered back mentally, fury boiling in my veins. I didn't want to hear more. My body moved on its own, a surge of rage driving me straight at him.
But Trask was ready.
He pressed a red button on the remote, and lightning shot through my spine. My body seized up, every muscle locking in place. I dropped, numb and convulsing, tasting metal in my mouth as I hit the ground.
"Stay down," he warned, stepping closer. "Unless you want to suffer worse."
His voice was colder now—flat, cruel. He turned back to the kids, now under his full control, and barked an order: "Eliminate the intruder."
My vision blurred. I tried calling out to Roxanne again, my voice barely more than a whisper. But she didn't respond. She wasn't there anymore—not really.
Darkness claimed me.
I don't know how long I was out, but when I came to, my body was my own again. My limbs still felt like lead, but I pushed myself upright, every nerve screaming in protest. I staggered to the corridor, driven by instinct and dread.
What I found was carnage.
Blood smeared the walls. Broken bodies lined the floor—children I'd trained with, laughed with, protected. Now they were twisted piles of limbs and metal. Some had been decapitated. Others weren't even recognizable.
Then I heard it—a sharp cry behind the training quarters.
I turned the corner just in time to see him.
Wolverine.
His claws were buried in Roxanne's gut, blood dripping off the tips like ink off a brush. Her face was pale, eyes wide with pain and shock. She didn't scream. She just stared forward, frozen.
He pulled back.
Roxanne collapsed into my arms as I rushed over. Her eyes flickered, then dimmed. No words. Just silence.
I didn't cry.
Not because I didn't want to—but because my mind was beyond tears. My chest was hollow. My hands trembled, but my heart had gone still.
Then Wolverine looked at me.
And something in me snapped.
A violent energy surged through me, raw and unfamiliar. My muscles tensed, pulsing with a new strength I didn't understand. The floor cracked beneath my feet as I moved—faster than I ever had before. My fist connected with his ribs like a hammer to stone, sending him flying.
He rolled, snarled, and pounced again.
But I was ready.
He leaped with his claws gleaming, aiming to run them through my chest. I didn't flinch. My eyes burned—literally. In a burst of white-hot pressure, searing beams of light exploded from my gaze, catching Wolverine mid-air and slamming him into the far wall with a crash.
He healed fast. Of course he did. His flesh knit together almost instantly. But his eyes narrowed as he saw what I had become.
A figure stepped through the smoking hole in the wall—me, glowing eyes, fists clenched, rage barely contained.
The cathedral behind us was wrecked. Debris littered the floor. The only sound was the tense crackle of energy still humming around me.
I looked up at him.
"I'm going to fucking kill you."
We stood still for a moment—just one breath.
Then I lunged.
He roared and charged back, claws raised, glinting in the sunlight. The battlefield was set, and neither of us planned to walk away.
The battle exploded like a storm.
Wolverine and I tore through the cathedral, reducing it from a house of prayer to a heap of splintered stone and burning rubble. Pillars collapsed. Stained glass shattered. Nothing sacred remained.
He fought like he was born for it—and maybe he was. Each strike he landed reminded me how green I still was. My only combat experience was from sparring drills, trading friendly hits with Roxanne or the other kids. This was different. This was survival.
He slashed across my chest—fast, brutal. I staggered, expecting agony to follow. But then, something strange happened. I watched in stunned silence as the wound knitted itself closed. The nanotech in my blood had kicked in, repairing tissue like it was patching a tear in a shirt.
Trask may be a monster, but he knew his science.
Wolverine stepped out from the rubble, brushing dust off his jacket like this was routine. The gash I'd just burned into him? Gone. His healing was insane—like nothing I'd seen, even among other mutants.
Fear crept in. Not the loud, screaming kind. The quiet, creeping kind. But anger was louder. It screamed in my blood, hotter than fear could ever be.
He charged again, claws gleaming like death. I fired a barrage of optic blasts—each one missed by inches. He closed the gap in seconds.
His claws slashed toward my face—so close I felt them slice strands of my hair. I flipped back, landed, and fired again. This time, he blocked with his claws crossed, soaking up the hit like a tank.
Then he lunged.
This time, I didn't retreat. I trusted my training. I read his movement, stepped into him, hooked his arm, and flipped him over my shoulder. He crashed hard. I didn't give him a second to breathe—I blasted him point-blank in the face with my optic lasers.
He howled and flailed. But still—he endured. He slashed out, catching my leg. Pain flared. I staggered back.
We both stood there, panting like beasts. His face was scorched, eyes burnt out, yet already healing. It was unreal. This guy was unkillable.
Still, my leg regenerated quickly. I blinked. Something in me stirred. I couldn't win with lasers alone—there had to be more.
Then it happened.
My eyes shifted, flickering like scanners. I saw him move in slow motion. My arm tingled—like metal screaming against metal. Then it morphed. A cannon formed from my forearm, thick and gleaming with power.
"Okay… that's new."
Wolverine's eyes widened. I grinned, aimed, and fired.
The blast was a miniature explosion—ten times stronger than my lasers. It hurled Wolverine across the battlefield, vaporizing what was left of the cathedral. Smoke and fire curled upward like a funeral pyre.
When the dust settled, Logan lay on the ground—half of his body burnt to the bone, his adamantium skeleton exposed. Anyone else would've been dead. But not him.
My cannon-arm hummed, still locked in battle mode. I approached him, ready to end it. "You're done."
Then, out of nowhere, pain screamed through my skull. The tumor.
No. Not now.
I collapsed to one knee, the cannon dissolving back into flesh. My vision swam. Dizziness hit like a wave. The tumor had returned—worse than ever. Trask's meds had kept it suppressed, but now… it was like my brain was tearing itself apart.
I gasped for air as Wolverine rose again, slower this time, wounded but alive. His breath was ragged. He staggered toward me, claws out, eyes wild.
I couldn't fight anymore.
He stood over me, claws raised, ready to strike. My body was done. My vision flickered—fading to black.
Then—blood.
Warm. Wet. Splattered across my face.
Wolverine jerked, stiffened, and dropped. Just like that.
I collapsed beside him, barely breathing, as the light in his eyes dimmed and went out.
...
(X-Men pov)
"He's alive," Hank said, adjusting the unconscious boy on his shoulders. "No pulse, but still breathing."
Jean furrowed her brow. "I can't sense his mind. It's like there's a wall… something's blocking me."
Logan scowled, eyes flicking to the body on the ground—his own doppelgänger, still and broken. "I hate this. Someone made a copy of me. That's twisted."
"Logan, Kitty, Jean, Hank—let's move. We're heading back to the school," Scott ordered, calm and firm.
Logan growled under his breath. He hated taking orders from Scott. If Xavier had said it, fine. But Scott? It grated.
"And Logan," Scott added, "bring your clone. We need to study it."
Logan didn't answer, just hoisted the body silently, jaw clenched. He wasn't mad about the weight—he was mad about Scott.
(Somewhere else)
I floated in darkness. No floor. No ceiling. Just blackness and the soft glow of my own body.
Then—light.
It cracked through from behind, growing until it swallowed the darkness. A shattered mirror appeared, each fragment flashing with memories. My memories. But not of this world. Of the one before.
I remembered everything.
The life I had. The moment I died. The truth behind the tumors. Behind Trask's experiments. Behind who—or what—I really was.
The memories crashed into me like a wave. I staggered under their weight.
Then, a voice. Distant at first.Then louder.
"Wake up…"
I opened my eyes.