Azabu, Japan

One of the most expensive residential areas in Tokyo, Azabu was home to many of the rich and famous. High levels of security were not unusual in this area, and that’s something the man called Daken had counted on.

“Koko made,” he told the cab driver. The taxi pulled to the curb and Daken passed him a handful of thousand-yen bills. The cab driver nodded his thanks and remotely opened the rear door for his passenger.

Daken stepped out of the cab and strolled down the stone sidewalk. He’d obtained the address from a yakuza oyabun in Kabuki-cho. Daken cut through a side road, circling around the home. He climbed over a stone barrier and landed in the rock garden of one of his target’s neighbors. From there, he quickly scaled a tree that gave him access to the roof. Daken crouched low as he moved swiftly across the surface, jumping from the roof of one home to another.

From his current vantage point, he could see the house of his target. Guards stood outside the front doors and outside the gate of the large home. More guards were stationed at the rear entrance and even on the balcony.

The balcony only had one guard, however, and he would be the easiest to take out. When the guard’s back was turned, Daken sprung from the roof and with aschlukt sound, a pair of bone claws emerged from between the first and second and third and fourth knuckles of each hand. He embedded those claws in the side of the home and used them to climb up until he reached the tall ledge of the balcony.

His heightened senses told him the guard’s soft footsteps grew slightly louder. Daken waited until the sound reached its peak and then after a moment, the volume slowly decreased. Daken retracted his claws and flipped over the edge, landing on the balcony behind the guard. The mutant grabbed the guard from behind, wrapping his right hand over his victim’s mouth and placing his left hand behind the man’s back. A third claw emerged from beneath Daken’s wrist, severing the guard’s spine.

Daken set the guard down silently and opened the door into the house. He could hear the sound of running water and Daken stalked through the halls. One of the doors had a light coming from under it. Daken stood at it, waiting until the sound of the running water stopped. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The Japanese man in the opulent bathtub faced a large, bay window looking out over Azabu. He slowly turned. His hair was long, and he was missing his nose, right ear, and left arm. He narrowed his eyes at the intruder.

“Matsu’o Tsurayaba,” said Daken. “Yoroshiku.”

<“You speak Japanese well for a half-breed,”> said Matsu’o in his native language. <“And what is your name, mongrel?”>

“You just said it yourself,” he responded in English. “Daken.”

Matsu’o gave a slight grin. “Before I kill you, care to tell me why you’ve interrupted my evening bath?”

“I’m looking for a man named Izo.”

“Izo? So you seek a myth?”

“I know he’s real, and I know he has connections to the Hand,” said Daken. “That’s why I’ve come to you.”

“You’ve wasted your time.” Matsu’o rose from the tub, climbing over the edge and moving to a closet. He opened it and inside was a cybernetic arm. Matsu’o placed it over the stump where his left arm once was and then took a light yukata robe and pulled it over his body, tying the sash. He closed the closet and faced Daken. “You look familiar.”

“I think you knew my father.” Daken’s fingers tightened into fists and his claws emerged. At the sight of those bone protrusions, anger burned in Matsu’o’s eyes.

“Wolverine!” Matsu’o charged at Daken, raising his cybernetic arm and bringing it down with a thunderous blow. Daken sprung from the path just as the fist struck the tile floor, leaving a deep crack.

Daken lunged forward, claws first, but Matsu’o moved far faster than he expected. The ninja master side-stepped the claws and grabbed Daken’s arm with his right hand. Matsu’o slammed the elbow of his cybernetic arm on Daken’s forearm, breaking the bones beneath it. Daken screamed and then Matsu’o threw a punch at Daken’s face, shattering his nose. Matsu’o grabbed Daken by the ears and brought the mutant’s head down, slamming it against his knee.

Daken rocked back, when Matsu’o launched forward with a kick to Daken’s chest. He followed it up with another blow from his cybernetic fist, cracking a few ribs. Matsu’o stepped back and held up his cybernetic arm.

“Words can’t express how disappointed I was to hear of Logan’s death. After all the damage he inflicted on my body, I was the one who deserved to kill him. So to hear that he was taken down in a weakened state by a dishonorable bastard like Sabretooth was a sad day indeed,” said Matsu’o. “But I suppose killing his son will give me some consolation.”

Three metal claws extended from Matsu’o’s cybernetic hand and he grinned as he waved them in front of Daken’s face. “They may not be adamantium, but they get the job done. I’d hoped to tear out your father’s throat with them, but I suppose you’ll have to do.”

Matsu’o slashed at Daken’s neck, tearing the flesh and leaving a splatter of blood. He grabbed Daken and threw him through the window, breaking the glass.

Daken struck the ground below, struggling to get up. He heard the guards coming closer and clasped the hand he could still move over his gaping throat wound. He was losing blood fast and even though his healing factor worked to repair the damage, it wasn’t fast enough to fix him up to take on the Hand.

The son of Wolverine darted from the scene, climbing over the wall and running off into the night. He managed to get a few blocks away and cross over into Azabu when he collapsed, his blood seeping out onto the pavement.

AFTER DEATH

Part I

By Dino Pollard

Alberta, Canada

Brent Jackson walked through the corridors of the top-secret government facility. Located in northern Alberta meant they were away from any potential prying eyes, enabling their work to continue without concern from the locals.

“Agent Jackson.” The man who addressed him was dressed from head to toe in black, tactical gear, complete with a face mask and a visor to conceal his identity. He gave a salute and Jackson followed suit

“At ease, Agent Zero.” Jackson turned and looked at the giant glass cylinder in the center of the room. Through the glass, he could see a figure floating in the liquid, an oxygen mask over the subject’s face and tubes and cables feeding into the naked flesh. “How’s things at the facility?”

“Running at optimal conditions, sir,” said Agent Zero.

“And the subject?” asked Jackson, approaching the glass.

“Doc, care to fill in our guest?” asked Agent Zero.

One of the scientists approached, adjusting his glasses as he shared Jackson’s gaze on the subject in the glass. “Things are progressing nicely. Since obtaining the subject, we’ve managed to boost the healing factor to previously unseen levels. It made the adamantium bonding process a rousing success. Even better than with the subject called Wolverine.”

“Good,” said Jackson. “The Director sees this subject as a bright new beginning for Weapon X.”

“A bright new beginning for Weapon X? That’s one sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

Jackson and Zero turned to the source of the new voice. Up on a catwalk stood a black man with a beard, sunglasses, and fedora. He wore a brown trench coat with a matching suit beneath and a cigar held between his teeth.

“Take it from someone who’s been there, gents.” He took the cigar from his mouth and walked to the edge of the catwalk. “No good ever comes from Weapon X.”

“Wraith…” muttered Jackson. “Kill him!”

Soldiers stationed around the lab readied their weapons, pointing them at the intruder. But John Wraith, the man once called Kestrel, maintained his cool exterior. He flicked the cigar from the catwalk and vanished with no visible energy signature. When Wraith rematerialized, it was behind a pair of soldiers and he held a .45 caliber pistol in each hand. Wraith fired a bullet from both guns simultaneously, blowing a massive hole through the heads of the two soldiers. The sound of the shots drew the attention of the other guards, but all they saw were their dead comrades lying on the ground.

“He’s a teleporter, you morons! Fan out, watch each other’s backs!” shouted Jackson. “Zero, you’re supposed to be the new top dog around here, so it’s time you live up to it!”

“With pleasure,” said Agent Zero, drawing his pistols. But before he could jump into action, he heard the sound of a gun again and another dead soldier.

Wraith teleported around the room in rapid succession, taking out guards from behind with each jaunt, then vanishing before anyone else could catch him in the act. But Agent Zero took a careful mental note of each location Wraith appeared in. Even if the former Weapon X operative didn’t know it, there was a pattern to his actions and Zero was beginning to see it take shape in his mind’s eye.

Zero ran towards a seemingly empty part of the room, raising his guns and aiming them at absolutely nothing. He fired at no specific target and it seemed that the operative had lost his mind. But then Wraith suddenly appeared, directly in the path of the rounds. They struck him in the chest and he groaned, dropping to his knees.

Wraith was stunned, but the lightweight body armor he wore beneath his suit protected him from the brunt of the bullets. It did manage to slow his reaction time, and Zero was on him in an instant, moving with incredible speed and delivering a swift kick to Wraith’s head. The head of the man once called Kestrel rocked back, his hat falling to the ground.

When Wraith opened his eyes, the lenses of his sunglasses were shattered. He took them off and tossed them aside, then vanished. He reappeared behind Zero, but the assassin anticipated the movement and spun, firing his gun in a wide arc and striking Wraith in the arm before the teleporter could fire.

A klaxon sounded in the room and one of the scientists ran to a console. His face went pale when he saw the readings on the screen. “Oh no… Nonononono…”

“What is it?” asked Jackson, coming up behind him.

“I-it’s the subject, sir!” said the scientist. “The heart rate is through the roof and the sedatives are wearing off!”

“So pump in some more, what’s the problem?” asked Jackson.

“That’s just it, the system is trying!” The scientist gave Jackson a panicked look. “But the subject’s healing factor has adapted to them!”

Japan

The smell of disinfectant was the first thing Daken noticed as he regained consciousness. He could feel something soft beneath his body. When he opened his eyes, his vision was blurred at first but slowly an overhead fluorescent light came into focus. He felt groggy and then realized there was something cold around his wrists. Daken tugged them and heard the rattle of chains and the clanking of metal against metal. He sat up to the best of his ability and saw his wrists were handcuffed to the sides of the hospital bed.

<“Who are you?”>

Daken could tell the voice came from the shadows of the room. He could see a figure standing in the darkness who slowly came into view. He wore a white suit and his hair was cut short to his head.

<“I could ask you the same question,”> said Daken.

<“My name is Kenuichio Harada. But you may call me the Silver Samurai.”> He stepped closer to the bed. “Now I’ll ask you again, and I’ll do so in English just to be certain you understand. Who are you?”

“Daken.”

“There was some commotion in Azabu earlier tonight, at the home of a man named Matsu’o Tsurayaba. Given that you were found bleeding and near-death not far, I’d say you had something to do with it,” said Harada.

“They always call in Big Hero 6 whenever someone is found bleeding to death?” asked Daken.

“No, but they do call in me when someone who had a gaping throat wound a few hours ago now doesn’t even have a scar. There are only a handful of people I know who could heal that quickly. And your x-rays, well…” Harada brought his hands out from behind his back and held up an x-ray of Daken’s broken arm with the three claws showing up on there. “That list is far shorter. I only know of one man with this kind of mutation and he died some time ago.”

“You knew Logan?”

Harada raised an eyebrow. “Evidently, so did you.”

“Not really, only recently found out about him,” said Daken. “He was my father.”

“I see. And are you also aware of your father’s relationship with Tsurayaba?” asked Harada. “Because if so, he’s the last person you should go anywhere near. What could have possibly possessed you to do something so stupid?”

“My father left a message for me,” said Daken. “He said I could find peace in a man named Izo.”

“Izo?” Harada snickered. “That message is clearly out of date, or some sick joke. Izo is long dead.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Daken. “Can’t believe it.”

“You believe whatever you wish, my young friend. Either way, deportation procedures have already begun. As soon as you’re mended—which will probably be morning at this rate—you will leave Japan and never return. It’s for your own safety.”

“Few things you should know about me, Harada. First off, I’m a lot older than you.” Daken yanked hard on the handcuffs, the chains snapping. He hopped up on the bed, extending his claws and staring at the Silver Samurai with a dark grin. “And second, I heal faster than you think.”

“You’re certainly stubborn enough to be his son.” Harada reached into his suit jacket, drawing a short sword and activating his mutant power to generate a tachyon field around any object. Harada rushed at Daken, swinging his blade down.

Daken flipped over the Samurai and the weapon cut through the bed with ease. Harada spun on his heel, but Daken delivered a quick kick to his throat, temporarily cutting off his air supply. Harada fell to his knees and Daken stood over him, looking down at the claws and contemplating his next move. The claws slid back into his arms.

“You’re probably the reason Matsu’o hasn’t found me yet, but I can’t leave when I’m so close.”

Daken heard noise from the hall and went to the window. He jumped from it, his hands taking hold of a power line and swinging from it then landing on the roof of an adjacent building. Daken took off in a sprint, hopping past the buildings and moving into the night.

From the roof of the hospital, a ninja watched.

Canada

Brent Jackson heard the pounding on the glass tube. He turned and looked at the glass, watching in horror from behind his yellow-tinted glasses. The noise wasn’t enough to distract Wraith or Zero from their fight, but it was enough to make Jackson’s blood run cold.

SNIKT

Adamantium claws burst through the glass, reducing it to millions of tiny shards. The liquid poured out of the remains of the tube and the subject pulled the IVs loose and removed the oxygen mask. That was enough to draw both Zero and Wraith’s attention.

“Oh fuck me…” muttered Jackson.

The subject was short, only about five-foot-three. His naked body was covered with coarse, dark hair. The black hair on his head was long and despite emerging from a liquid nutrient bath, somehow already styled in peaks on either side of his head, resembling the wears of a wolf. His eyes were wild and his teeth gritted in anger. He threw his arms out, which had three adamantium claws extending from between the knuckles, and let out an animalistic howl.

The Wolverine was loose.

To be continued…

CUTTING EDGE

I know what you’re thinking: What the hell was that?

What that is, my friends, is the beginning of a brand new era for the Ol’ Canucklehead. First, some background. So gather ’round, children, as your Uncle Dino tells you a story that begins a little over a decade ago.

Back in the early aughts, Marvel Omega didn’t exist. Instead, it was still part of a site called Marvel-X. Ryan Krupienski, who I’d known for a while through the Heroes group and had really admired for his stellar work on a little title called Uncanny X-Men, approached me about some co-writing. Ryan had some big things in mind for Marvel-X’s two core X-books, but there weren’t enough hours in the day to keep up with his ideas. So he asked me to join him, taking on the reins ofX-Men, sort of alternating between stories of my own and stories Ryan and I would collaborate on. Ryan had set it up pretty simply—Uncanny X-Men would be more focused on the goings-on at the mansion while X-Men would center on an away team led by Nightcrawler and Domino. Ryan had some characters he wanted on the team and he also encouraged me to throw in some of my contributions as well. I had a pretty long list of characters in mind and I remember the first question I asked him as if it were yesterday:

“Can I have Wolverine?” I asked.

“He’s lost his healing factor,” said Ryan. “And he doesn’t have his adamantium.”

“Can I have him anyway?”

“For a little bit, but I’m killing him off.”

“Well that sucks. How long do I get him for?”

“About nine issues.”

“Any chance I can change your mind? I know you don’t like Wolverine, but I’d love it if he could stay around.”

“Nope, sorry. Nine issues, that’s all you get.”

I was kind of bummed about that, but it was Ryan’s show and I didn’t want to step on his toes. Ryan killed off Wolverine at the conclusion of the “Into The Light” story-arc and in the epilogue, Ryan established that Jean had Logan cremated to prevent any of his enemies from trying to get their hands on his body. To take it one step further, in the pages of the Generation X limited series, Chris Munn (another great writer I was fortunate enough to work with) had Wolverine’s soul essentially die in battle with Thunderbird.

Over the years, a lot has changed. Our little corner of the X-universe split off from Marvel-X and formed the foundation of the new Marvel Omega site (and while MX has died, MO is still going strong, over a decade later). Ryan still provides the hosting for the site, but he hasn’t been a writer for us in some time. We also loosened the “dead means dead” restriction we established early on.

When Stuart Fairchild was writing Alpha Flight, he introduced Daken into MO’s continuity and later, he and Hunter Lambright wrote a single issue of what was supposed to be a new solo Wolverine series that featured Daken taking up his father’s mantle.

The series never really went beyond a single issue. Meanwhile, Hunter and I had begun collaborating (with Chris) on Astonishing X-Men. And as we were tossing ideas back and forth, we started wondering about whether or not there was some way to bring Logan back to the land of the living. We’d brainstormed some things and had kind of a rough idea in place. But then Chris had to drop out of fanfic and other things got in the way.

Then not too long ago, I had a really awesome idea that would bring back Logan, set up some awesome stuff for the future, while still honoring the work Ryan and Chris had done on his death and also paying homage to Logan’s extremely storied legacy. I talked to Hunter about doing it in the pages of Wolverine since the title seemed dead and he gave me the go-ahead to rework a lot.

Hunter also has more to contribute to this title, and his contributions will be appearing at a later date. But I just went full-tilt and plotted out a great six-part story that could only be called “After Death.”

What you’ve seen here is just the beginning. This series promises to be a wild ride that no Wolverine fan should miss. I had a blast plotting out this story and writing this first issue. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Snikt, bub.

Dino Pollard
February 2015