There was no denying it—Logan looked like death itself.
The explosion had torn through his back like a buzzsaw. Flesh was mangled, half his torso missing, blood pooling around him in a horrifying red lake. Even for someone used to pain, someone who had lived for over a hundred years, this was too much.
Back in Japan, he had once survived the blast wave of a nuclear bomb. Back then, he got back on his feet, dusted himself off, and lit a cigar like it was just another Tuesday.
So even now, when his body was broken and smoldering, he didn't panic.
Not immediately.
He bit down on his cigar with bloody lips. Then came the pain. Not just any pain—a blinding, searing agony that screamed through every nerve in his back. It wasn't fading. In fact, it was intensifying. His limbs felt like lead, his vision darkened, and just before he passed out, a terrible realization struck him.
"My… self-healing… it's gone?"
Then—bang—he collapsed, face-first into the blood-soaked floor.
Storm and Cyclops rushed to him in a flash.
"Logan! Logan, can you hear me?" Storm dropped to her knees, grabbing his shoulder. Blood coated her hands instantly.
He trembled, his body twitching involuntarily. Half his torso had been obliterated, and he was barely clinging to consciousness. His mouth opened, closed—no words came. Just ragged breaths and a dull, fading look in his eyes.
It was the kind of expression people wore at the edge of death.
"What the hell is going on?" Storm gasped, her voice cracking.
Instinctively, she turned toward the audience—toward the seats where Joseph had been watching with Shadowcat and Jubilation Lee just moments ago.
Gone.
All three of them had vanished without a trace.
Storm's gut tightened. She knew Joseph was no ordinary Mutant. His magic often felt limitless—always prepared for the worst. If anyone had a solution, it was him.
But he wasn't there.
She turned toward the next best option.
Jean Grey.
The Phoenix.
But Jean… wasn't doing well either.
Her eyes were wild. Her breath ragged. Logan's injury had shaken her to the core, and in an instant, all the bullets and shells she had suspended in mid-air began to twist and compress—fusing into massive lumps of death.
Then—
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The air erupted in a series of devastating explosions. The remaining Iron Soldiers were vaporized in the blink of an eye, reduced to molten husks.
Storm gasped.
"That power… it's not stopping!"
She could feel it in the atmosphere. Jean's psychic aura was unraveling. Her abilities, once sharp and controlled, were now surging uncontrollably, spiraling toward chaos.
Meanwhile, not far away…
Joseph, concealed beneath a veil of Invisibility Magic with Shadowcat and Jubilee, suddenly tensed.
His heartbeat quickened.
The early warning spell he had embedded in Jean's psychic aura was triggering.
"The Phoenix Force… it's waking up."
There was no panic in his voice. He had foreseen this possibility. In fact, he had counted on it.
With practiced calm, he raised his hand and cast a three-ring spiritual incantation.
Mind Communication.
In the next instant, Jean Grey's surroundings shifted.
Gone was the destroyed auditorium, the chaos, the fire. She now stood in a vast, dark expanse—her inner spiritual world.
And in front of her was a towering black cage, glowing with pulsing veins of red and crimson flame.
Inside, something monstrous churned.
A living flame—a beast of cosmic fire—slammed itself against the bars, snarling and roaring with a hatred so deep it made the space quake.
Jean stumbled back, heart pounding.
"No… not this again…"
For years, she had felt this thing slumbering inside her. Always hidden, always sealed—thanks to the mind labyrinth Professor Charles Xavier had placed deep within her psyche.
But now?
Now it was awake.
"I lost focus… it broke free…!"
Fear wrapped around her mind like chains. Her instincts screamed to run, to bury it again, to hide from the thing clawing at the edge of her consciousness.
"Am I… going to be consumed by it?"
The flames surged.
Her mind began to fracture under the pressure.
Then—
"Relax, teacher."
A familiar voice.
Jean spun around.
Joseph stood behind her, arms crossed, a warm, reassuring smile on his face.
"Logan's fine. Looks rough, sure, but give it thirty minutes. The spell will wear off and his healing factor will kick back in."
Jean's eyes widened. "Wait… you did this?"
Joseph nodded. "Just a little magic. A temporary block on his regeneration to make the injury look real enough to trigger that thing behind you."
He tilted his head toward the cage.
The flames behind the bars had stopped raging. The beast, once wild and thrashing, was… watching. Quiet.
Jean hadn't noticed the shift. Her eyes locked on Joseph.
"Your magic… it's unreal. You can even enter someone's consciousness like this?"
Joseph shrugged, smirking. "What kind of sorcerer would I be if I couldn't hold a polite mental conversation?"
He stepped forward slowly.
"But now that I'm here… let's talk about that." He gestured toward the caged fire. "That… is the Phoenix Force, yes?"
Jean's breath caught in her throat.
"It's not something you can understand," she said quickly. "It's ancient. Cosmic. Beyond our reach. It's not just power, it's a curse."
"I've lived in fear of it for years. Charles had to seal away part of my mind just to keep it from consuming me."
Joseph raised an eyebrow.
"So… you're saying one of the most powerful Mutants in history gave you a partial lobotomy—and you thanked him for it?"
Jean faltered. "That's not what I meant…"
"No, I get it," Joseph said gently. "Charles Xavier is brilliant. He's saved countless lives. But has it ever occurred to you… that he might be wrong about this?"
Jean blinked.
"Wrong?"
"Yes. Wrong to fear this. Wrong to silence it. Wrong to convince you to fear it too."
He pointed to the cage.
"That flame didn't attack until you lost control."
Jean frowned. "I didn't release it."
"But it responded to you," Joseph said, eyes locked with hers. "It reflects your emotions, your fear. Just a few seconds ago, you were overwhelmed—and it went berserk. But now…"
He gestured again.
"…it's calm."
Jean turned.
The monster of fire that once tore at its cage was now curled within it, still burning, still powerful—but no longer hostile.
It was waiting.
Listening.
"You've been in control this whole time."
Jean was frozen.
This truth—this possibility—had never occurred to her. Every adult Mutant she'd ever known had drilled one thing into her: fear the Phoenix.
But now… for the first time, someone was telling her to understand it.
"It's impossible," she muttered. "It's too powerful. Too ancient. If I ever lose control—"
"Then we help you," Joseph interrupted. "But that power chose you. It needs you."
"Needs me…?"
Joseph stepped closer.
"It didn't find just anyone. It found you. That means, in this bond, you have the power. You make the decisions."
"Since that's the case, why should you fear it at all?"
Jean shook her head. "I… I don't know if I can believe that."
"Then look," Joseph said, his voice firm now. "Look at it again. When you lost control, it reacted violently. Now, you're calm—and so is it."
"You've been controlling it, Jean. Not the other way around."
Jean turned.
And what she saw made her heart stop.
The Phoenix—once a burning storm of chaos—was now still. It sat within the cage like a sleeping god, its form more majestic than monstrous.
Waiting.
Not to destroy.
But to be understood.
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