A few moments later...
Logan lay on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. His breathing was deep, steady—an expression of complete peace.
But it didn't last long.
His eyes opened in an instant, sharp and alert. Something had moved through the hallway—fast, almost like teleportation.
He sniffed the air.
Gunpowder... metal... blood... His senses flared as the distant tat-tat-tat of gunfire echoed through the halls. And then—
BOOM!
A massive explosion rocked the building, shaking the walls with its force. Dust rained from the ceiling. The shockwave sent a tremor through the floors.
Logan grunted and sat up slowly, unhurried. No panic in his bones. Just that old, familiar feeling rolling through his chest—trouble.
He reached for the cigar resting on the nightstand, placed it between his lips, and lit it with a calm flick of flame. The warm glow reflected in his eyes as he took a long drag, letting the smoke swirl around him like a mist.
He exhaled and rose to his feet.
"Just like in the damn movies," he muttered in irritation.
He moved toward the door, unfazed by the chaos.
He moved out of the room, calm steps echoing in the hall. His ears picked up shouting now. Screams. Glass breaking. The distant pulse of violence moving closer.
He didn't rush. Didn't need to.
Logan already knew who was behind this. Shaw.
The bastard wasn't here to kill mutants. Just people. He didn't care. And that? That was what made it worse.
He paused for a moment, letting the cigar rest in the corner of his mouth as he stared blankly at the hallway ahead.
'That's some dangerous thinking, Logan.'
He'd already accepted the truth—this wasn't just a dream. Crying, panicking... it wouldn't change a thing. He was in Logan's body. There was no going back.
Better to accept it and wait for the inevitable.
'Cryin' ain't gonna help now. Suck it up. Accept the mess and move with it.' he thought.
He walked slowly down the dim corridor with hands in his pockets, smoke trailing behind him like a predator's scent.
The once-luxurious hall where the young mutants were staying now looked like a war zone. Furniture overturned. Glass shattered. A blood-smeared wall told a story no one wanted to hear.
Outside the broken window, the garden had turned into a graveyard—corpses of uniformed men lay scattered like discarded toys.
Logan stepped into the room, still calm, still smoking.
He saw them—Raven, Darwin, Hank, Angel Salvadore, Sean, and Alex—all crouched under what remained of a large leather sofa. Fear and confusion painted their faces.
Then, in a flash of red smoke, a figure teleported into the room.
Azazel. The red-skinned devil with a tail, just as Logan remembered from the movies. The teleporting assassin.
On the opposite side, a gust of wind blasted through the shattered window as another man descended from the sky in a sleek suit. He spun in the air, wind swirling around him violently.
Riptide. The mutant who could conjure tornadoes with a gesture.
With a violent spin, Riptide unleashed a wind blast that tore into the walls and shattered the amplifier outside connected to Cerebro.
The others flinched and ducked, but Logan stood still. He didn't even blink.
Everyone turned to look at him. Smoke drifted lazily from the cigar in his mouth. He looked around the chaos without a flicker of emotion, then took the cigar out with two fingers.
"Could've knocked, y'know. This ain't exactly polite." he said.
The doors groaned as they opened.
Sebastian Shaw entered the room, adjusting his polished gray helmet. He strolled through the carnage like a man inspecting an art gallery.
He stopped, scanning the room with calculating eyes. "Where is the telepath?" he asked.
Logan took another drag of his cigar. "You missed him, bub. Should've shown up a little earlier."
Shaw studied Logan with interest before smirking. "I like your attitude. Looks like I didn't need this damn helmet."
He removed it slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his coat.
Logan moved forward, positioning himself between the terrified young mutants and Shaw. His stance casual, but unmistakably protective.
Shaw raised a hand, calm and composed. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "None of you. That explosion? Not for you. It was just to clear the clutter."
The tension in the room thickened as a police officer stumbled in behind them, gun raised.
"Freeze!" the cop shouted.
A red flash. BAMF!
In a blink, Azazel vanished from his spot and reappeared in front of the officer. A quick slash of his blade slit his throat.
The cop collapsed backward, clutching his throat, eyes wide in shock before the life faded from them.
Logan narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening. He looked at the dying man, then at Azazel.
"Now that's just bad manners," he muttered.
The teens looked at Logan with a mix of confusion and awe.
Something was very wrong with this guy.
Shaw took a step forward. "You're calm under pressure. I like that."
Logan narrowed his eyes. "Don't flatter me. I've seen worse."
Shaw chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure you have. Still, you and I—we're not that different."
Logan raised a brow. "Yeah? I've heard that line before. Usually right before the guy gets his teeth kicked in."
Ignoring the jab, Shaw continued with an amused grin. "I like you. You're not like the others."
Logan snorted. "Sorry, bub. I don't swing that way."
Shaw chuckled, brushing the rejection aside like it was nothing. "You're easy to talk to. That's rare. Let me explain something."
He turned to the teens.
"Mutants are the next step in human evolution. If mankind discovers what we are—what we can do—they'll fear us. They'll hunt us. Wipe us out before we can claim our place. We're trying to prevent that. We're going to ensure our kind rules this planet. Not in secret. Not in shame. As kings and queens."
He took a step forward, "We—mutants—we're the next step. The future."
He spread his arms wide, voice rising. "We can shape the world. Rule it. No more hiding. No more fear. Join me, and you'll be kings and queens of a new era."
He stretched out his hand. "You have a choice. Live in fear with humans… or rise above them. Rule without fear. Come with me, and you'll never have to hide again."
Silence. The offer hung in the air like poison.
They looked at one another. Hesitating.
Logan exhaled slowly, letting smoke curl from his lips.
"Been in a lot of wars, bub," he said coldly. "One thing I learned—the brave always die first."
He flicked ash to the floor. "You wanna sell fairy tales, do it somewhere else."
Shaw's smile faltered. "Is that so?"
Logan's voice dropped an octave. "Yeah. Now fuck off… before I make you regret knockin' on my door."
Shaw's eyes narrowed. "That a threat?"
"It's a promise."
In another blink, Azazel teleported again—this time reappearing beside Logan.
But Logan was faster.
His hand shot out like lightning, grabbing Azazel by the throat mid-teleport. With a savage growl, he slammed the red mutant into the ground so hard the floor cracked beneath them.
THUD!
Azazel went limp.
Dead silence.
Everyone stared—mutants and enemies alike. Eyes wide. Jaws slack.
Raven's mouth hung open. Hank stood up slightly, staring like he couldn't believe what he just saw.
Darwin blinked. "Did… did he just…?"
Angel whispered, "Holy shit… He didn't even use his claws..."
Sean was speechless. Alex had a thousand questions and no words.
Logan stood up slowly, dusting his jacket.
He popped the cigar back into his mouth, a low growl building in his chest. "You brought the wrong devil to this fight."
With a slow, deliberate SNIKT, his claws extended from both hands—three bone blades dripping with menace.
He looked at Shaw again with blank expression, "Last chance. Walk away. Or I'll start takin' parts."
The chaos hadn't ended. If anything, it had only just begun.
Riptide, that wind-throwing bastard in the crisp gray suit, took a confident step forward. His eyes glinted with anger as he raised his arms.
The air around him twisted violently.
A small tornado began to spin in his palms, fast enough to send paper, glass shards, and broken debris flying through the shattered room. The walls groaned as the air pressure shifted.
Then—he let it loose.
Whoosh!
The mini-cyclone barreled toward Logan like a spinning drill of compressed wind.
But Logan wasn't some rookie kid with shiny powers. "Wrong move, bub," he growled and took a step to the side, dodging it with ease. The confined space made the vortex weak. Riptide couldn't summon full strength here—not without harming the mutants which Shaw ordered not to.
"Everyone—take cover!" Logan barked. Raven pulled Sean behind the couch. Hank grabbed Darwin and Angel and ducked behind a broken piano.
Logan's eyes scanned the ground. A half-broken bottle lay among the debris.
Without warning, he grabbed it, then hurled it toward Riptide with precision.
Riptide saw it and twisted to avoid the projectile—but that was the bait.
By the time the bottle crashed into the far wall harmlessly, Logan was already in motion.
In a blur, he closed the distance.
CRACK!
A solid punch connected with Riptide's jaw.
His head jerked sideways. Blood and teeth flew midair like shattered glass. The force of the hit launched him across the room. He crashed into a column with a sickening thud and slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Logan stood there, breathing through his nose, fists clenched.
Smoke curled from the end of his half-burned cigar.
"Amateur," he muttered.
A slow clap echoed across the ruined room.
It was Shaw. He stood in the center, adjusting his cufflinks with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Wonderful performance," he said, "You've got raw power and instincts. Join me, My friend. Together, we can rule this world. The old ways are done. Why serve humanity when we can rise above them?"
The teens froze, stunned by the offer.
Raven's mouth parted slightly. Hank looked between Logan and Shaw, unsure of what came next.
Logan dusted himself off, rolled his neck with a crack, and stood tall.
"You're not the first snake to offer me the world on a silver platter," he said, flicking ash off his cigar. "Thing is… it always comes with poison baked in."
He walked forward. One step. Then another. Each one slow, deliberate.
Until he stood face to face with Shaw.
"Not interested."
Shaw's smile didn't falter. "Shame."
Then, like a coiled spring, he struck.
His fist came from nowhere, fueled by stored kinetic energy from earlier impacts—likely the explosion and small fight. The blow connected with Logan's chest like a freight train.
BOOM!
Logan flew through the air, crashed through the wall behind him, and tumbled across the garden outside, flattening grass and cracking decorative stones beneath him.
Shaw adjusted his jacket and turned toward the teens, brushing imaginary dust from his lapel.
"The offer still stands," he said coolly. "Stay here. Watch. While I educate our stubborn friend."
He turned and strolled through the hole in the wall, heading into the garden with calm steps.
----------
Outside, in the garden...
Logan groaned as he pulled himself from the rubble. His healing factor worked fast.
'Bastard hits hard. Can't match him punch for punch… not with that energy absorption trick.'
He stood up and his eyes followed Shaw's slow approach.
Logan's mind raced. Fighting Shaw head-on was suicide. His mutation let him absorb kinetic energy and convert it to strength. The more you hit him, the stronger he got.
'I need to limit his movement. Keep him from building momentum. If I can keep him busy, stop him from absorbing more energy… I might just outlast him.'
His eyes scanned the garden. Statues. Stone benches.
'Can't let him fight freely. Gotta pin him. Or contain him.'
Shaw arrived while smirking. "Still standing," he noted, amused. "Impressive."
Logan didn't answer.
Instead, he ran—toward Shaw.
"Good," Shaw said. "More fuel."
Shaw threw a punch. Logan ducked.
Then Shaw kicked. Logan blocked—but it sent him sprawling again, crashing into the side of the water fountain.
He got up slower this time, but he was smiling.
"Gotta say, Shaw… that all you got?" he rasped.
Shaw raised an eyebrow.
Logan used the moment to grab a heavy iron bench and hurled it—not at Shaw, but at the base of the pillars supporting the fountain's outer ring.
The structure wobbled.
As Shaw advanced, Logan led him toward the weakened area.
This time, he didn't dodge. He absorbed a brutal hit—but used the momentum to tackle Shaw, both of them crashing against the cracked fountain base.
CRACK—BOOM!
The ring collapsed.
Water gushed out, and the broken stone trapped Shaw's legs in a makeshift cage of debris.
"You son of a—!" Shaw growled, trying to stand.
But Logan was already moving.
He grabbed thick steel chains from the fallen garden lights and wrapped them around Shaw's arms, yanking them tight and tying the ends around the fountain's structure.
Shaw struggled. Power radiated from him. The air shimmered with potential energy.
Logan didn't wait.
He went to restrict his movements, not to damage him—but to anchor him.
The goal wasn't to win by force. It was to keep him contained.
Back inside, the teens watched in stunned silence.
"He's fighting Shaw… alone," Alex said.
Raven clutched the window frame, her fingers trembling, she said softly. "He's something else."
Back in the garden, Logan's body ached, blood dripping from cuts along his side. But he stood firm.
Shaw snarled beneath him, "You think this'll hold me?!"
Logan leaned down close and held Shaw's throat. "You talk too much."
---------
Author's Note:
Hey everyone!
How did you like the chapter?
I'd love to hear your thoughts—what do you think Logan should do to defeat Shaw? Got any cool strategies or ideas? Drop them in the comments!
Also, just a heads-up: for now, I'm planning to keep Emma Frost and Storm as the only female leads in this story. Let me know what you think about that too!