Miyazaki, Japan
1955

Izo was stirred from his sleep by the sound of someone banging on his front door. He sat up on the futon and rubbed his sightless eyes, still trying to jolt himself awake. Finally, he realized the sound that had woken him and he rose from the futon.

He knew every inch of the small home and so had no reason for his cane. But he still took it as it concealed a sword and he wasn’t accustomed to visitors. The only people who came to see him might be enemies of the Chaste.

Izo went to the foyer and stepped down to the ground area. He unlocked the door and flung it open, prepared for anything.

“She’s gone.”

The voice was gruff. And more surprising than anything else in that area, was English. Izo recognized it immediately, but the tone was so different—dejected, despondant.

“…Logan?”

Izo took the kettle from the heater and poured the hot water into the tea pot, soaking through the green leaves contained in a small net at the top. He set the pot and two cups on a tray and carried it into the adjoining room.

There was a small table in the center of the room. Logan sat on his knees on the tatami-lined floor. Izo set the tray on the table and poured a cup of tea for Logan, then one for himself.

“Tell me everything,” said Izo.

Logan grabbed the cup and drank down the tea in one gulp. He made a face as he looked at the cup, then stood and left the room. Izo heard the sound of a door opening—likely the small compartment in the floor where the shochu bottles were kept. And sure enough, Logan returned with a large bottle of shochu, pouring the alcoholic drink into his tea cup.

“I don’t know exactly what time it is, but I’d wager that since you just woke me up, it’s still early,” said Izo. “Maybe too early for booze.”

Logan drank down one cup of shochu and then poured himself another.

“He found us.”

Izo’s heart sank. “You don’t mean…”

“Hirono.” Logan practically spat the name of Itsu’s first husband. “Somehow he tracked us down. When I returned home, I found her…barely clinging to life… His name was her last word…”

Logan’s voice trailed off. The pause before his next words was excruciating for Izo. But after Logan spoke his next words, Izo had wished the pause lasted forever.

“Her belly was cut open.”

Izo felt his jaw drop. “The…the child?”

Logan replied with a gutteral noise in his throat. Then said one word—“Gone.”

“What? He took your child?”

Logan nodded and polished off another cup of shochu. Despite Izo’s blindness, he could feel the Canadian’s eyes boring into him.

“I need your help,” said Logan.

Izo felt a sense of dread. In the past, he offered to teach Logan the ways of the Chaste. He had refused, wanting a life of peace with Itsu. But now with her dead…Izo worried about Logan’s true purpose.

“And what kind of help do you seek, my friend?”

“You know what I want. Hirono’s yakuza. If I’m going to avenge my wife and child, I need to be the best there is at what I do. And you’re the only one who can train me.”

Izo took the tea cup in both hands and slowly sipped the warm drink. He set the cup down again and his head and shoulders dropped.

“No.”

“You wanna run that by me again?”

Izo sighed. “The Chaste is a noble clan, formed for the express purpose of defending this realm from the Beast. Our ways are not meant for vengeance, but for peace.”

There was silent. And then the sound of the tea cup shattering against the wall. Izo could sense Logan’s anger practically emanating off him.

“I grieve for your loss, Logan. I loved Itsu as a daughter. But I can’t give you vengeance. I can only help you find peace.”

“There ain’t no peace for me, old man. An’ if you’re not gonna help me, then I’ll find someone who will.”

Logan’s heavy footsteps started to recede from the room. Izo called out to him just as he heard the front door open.

“Logan, please heed my words,” said Izo. “If you turn your back on the Chaste, if you go down the path of vengeance, then I fear that your life will be dominated by violence.”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, old man.”

The door slammed shut. Izo finished the tea and then took the bottle of shochu. He filled the cup.

FATHER & SON

Part I

By Dino Pollard

Somewhere over America
Now

John Wraith gripped the handrests as the private X-Corp jet went through a bout of turbulence. Kitty Pryde looked up from her smartphone and smirked at her unlikely partner. Wraith felt her eyes on him and lowered his sunglasses to look back.

“What?” he asked.

Kitty just shook her head and chuckled. “Ex-spy, current interdimensional agent, and you’re afraid of flying.”

“Who said anything ’bout me being afraid, kitty-cat?”

The plane shook again and Wraith gripped the armrests even tighter, his entire body visibly tensing. Kitty’s chuckle from before now became a full-on snort.

“Shuddup,” said Wraith. “Why do you think I teleport everywhere?”

“Sorry if I don’t have faith in your ability to teleport across the Pacific,” said Kitty.

“How long’s this damn flight gonna take anyway?”

“After we make our stop in LA? About six hours, give or take. This is faster than commercial planes.”

“Wonderful. Why we stoppin’ anyway?”

“Dunno, pilot just said they had to. Since X-Corp is letting us fly for free, we’re on their schedule. I’m guessing your bosses wouldn’t like a last-minute round-trip ticket to Tokyo on your Landau, Luckman, and Lake expense account.”

“Fair bet.”

Japan

Ogun sat motionless in the hot spring bath, relishing the feel of the water on his skin. He’d been without a reliable vessel for far too long, and now he finally gained the one he had coveted for more than half a century. The body that once belonged to his former pupil, Logan.

The women attending to him cut his hair down as close to his scalp as possible, and then shaved him bald. After they finished, he rose from the spring and stepped out onto the cobblestone ground in the midst of an ancient valley. The attendants dried off his body and then he was provided with a light yukata robe.

Ogun entered his private quarters and examined himself in the full-length mirror. Despite the clear advantages of the Wolverine’s body, the fact that it was still a white face that stared back at him in the mirror didn’t sit well with the former yakuza. But sacrifices had to be made.

Ogun disrobed and dressed in a pair of hakama pants and a kimono. He went over to the suit of crimson armor that was held on display and removed the demonic, horned mask. Ogun pulled the mask over his own face.

He left his quarters and moved into a large, darkened room. To the untrained eye, it seemed completely empty. But Ogun knew better. These new senses were a wonder. He could hear them attempting to silently move in the shadows—smell them, even. And beneath his mask, he smiled.

They sprung their attack. At least a dozen crimson-clad Hand ninja. Ogun’s new body reacted on instinct, easily moving between the flashing blades. He carried no weapons into this fight, just used his opponents’ attacks against them.

Ogun dodged a sword thrust and then grabbed the ninja’s arms. He drove the katana into another ninja, whose death was signaled in a burst of smoke. Ogun grabbed the katana-holder’s head and twisted, cracking his neck and the body vanishing to smoke within his hangs. Two down, ten to go.

A chained weapon came flying at him. Ogun allowed the chain to wrap around his forearm and then grabbed it. He pulled the ninja towards him and wrapped the chain around his neck, pulling tight until the bones cracked. Nine left.

Swords fell on him. They closed in quickly and Ogun couldn’t dodge these strikes. His flesh was cut into, but the blades met resistance when they struck his adamantium bones. The cuts already started healing almost as fast as they could form. Ogun disarmed one ninja and relieved him of his head. He drove the sword into another ninja’s chest.

The remaining seven ninja circled him, each ready with their weapons, watching for the right moment to strike.

*SNIKT*

Adamantium claws burst through the flesh of his hands. He dove into the remaining opponents. Claws tore easily through flesh. The rage that drove Ogun felt almost euphoric as he relished in the feeling of releasing the Wolverine’s berserker rage. Why did Logan fight this? Why did he play at being a man when he was so much more?

The battle ended, and Ogun was alone, his claws dripping with blood as the smoke of the slain Hand lingered in the air. He detected a new scent and heard a single set of hands clapping.

<“Very impressive, Oyabun,”> said Matsu’o Tsurayaba in Japanese. <“I see you’re enjoying your new body.”>

Ogun raised his arms and sheathed his claws. <“Indeed I am, Matsu’o. The Wolverine’s body is the perfect vessel to contain my essence. All my manipulations over the past few years have paid off perfectly. Weapon X, the Hand, everything.”>

<“Now that you’ve claimed your title, what is your next move?”>

<“The son of Logan.”>

Matsu’o’s eyes lit up at that. <“Excellent. After my encounter with him, I’ve longed to see him dead. All I ask is for you to allow me to have the killing blow.”>

<“You misunderstand, Matsu’o. I’m not interested in killing Daken. Quite the contrary, I want him to join us.”>

<“…what?”>

California

“We’ll only be on the ground for an hour, tops,” said the pilot.

“Good, just text me once you’re ready for us,” said Kitty as her and Wraith walked down the tarmac away from the private X-Corp jet.

It was a small airfield just outside of Los Angeles and they headed towards the hangars when Kitty stopped and looked over her shoulder. Wraith took notice of her and stopped as well.

“You okay?”

Kitty’s eyes went from side to side. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. And then, a small explosion went off behind them that threw both Kitty and Wraith face-first on the ground.

Kitty was back on her feet almost instantly. Though she was dressed in street clothes, she kept her gauntlets on, each of which housed a single claw. She extended those claws and readied herself for the as-yet-unseen attacker.

Then, they sprung, flipping from behind some freight and landing in front of Kitty. It was a ninja, dressed all in black—so that ruled out the Hand. But Kitty could tell from the body type that it was a woman.

She didn’t seem armed, which Kitty thought was her biggest mistake. Whoever this was, Kitty needed answers. Was someone trying to get her and Wraith off Logan’s trail?

The ninja attacked, springing across the distance that separated them. She was fast and her kick was expertly executed. But unfortunately for her, Kitty was trained by the likes of Ogun and Wolverine, and could easily deflect the kick.

The ninja recovered from the block and moved in at Kitty. There was something very familiar about the ninja’s fighting style. More than that, there was also something almost…playful?

Kitty had thought she figured out who it was under the mask. And she realized that this wasn’t an attempted hit. No, this was something else.

While Kitty had the ninja’s attention, Wraith teleported behind the ninja and raised his gun. Kitty realized what was about to happen and she called out, “No!”

The ninja turned and held out her arm. Bursts of brightly colored energy that resembled fireworks shot forth from her fingertips, striking Wraith and knocking him back.

Kitty ran up beside the ninja and the two of them looked at Wraith. Kitty gave the ninja a gentle slap on her shoulder.

“What the hell was that all about?” she asked. “That’s how you say hi?”

The ninja chuckled and pulled off her mask, which revealed the face of an attractive young Chinese woman with short, dark hair.

“Gimme a break, Pryde. Been a while since I’ve seen any action, so I thought I’d test your skills,” said Jubilee.

The two of them approached Wraith, who groaned as he got off the ground. He picked up his glasses and hat and put them back on, then looked at Jubilee.

“The firecracker,” he said with a huff. “You grew up.”

“Don’t get any ideas, old man. Or else you’ll start callin’ me ‘nutcracker,’” said Jubilee.

“What are you doing here, Lee?” asked Kitty.

“After you told Warren you needed to borrow an X-Corp jet, he gave me a call,” said Jubilee. “Technically I’m still part of his Champions group, even though I’m on a bit of a leave. He thought I might wanna know what’s up, so he told me your flight plan had a stop in LA.”

“So what? You are chaperone? Here to make sure we don’t break Worthington’s little plane?” asked Wraith.

“Nah.” Jubilee looked at Kitty. “Logan. Warren told me you’re trying to find him. An’ you don’t do that without me.”

“Usually, the less people who know about an operation, the more successful it has a chance of being,” said Wraith. “An’ you should know before we go any further—we’re not savin’ anyone.”

Jubilee furrowed her brow. “What? Pryde, what’s this bullshit comin’ out his mouth?”

Kitty sighed. “It’s…it’s the truth.”

Jubilee spun on Kitty and raised her finger, sparks igniting on the tip. “Maybe I’ve been blasting Spotify too loud, because it sounds like you just said you were down with killing Logan after we got him back?”

“You don’t understand, Jubilee,” said Kitty. “Whatever this…thing is, it’s not Logan. Not anymore. It’s just his body. His soul is…somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere better.”

Jubilee shook her head. “No…I can’t listen to this shit…”

“And right now, the Hand has his body,” said Kitty. “Whatever they’ve got planned, you can bet it’s not pretty.”

“To put it simply, firecracker, this isn’t a rescue mission,” said Wraith. “When we find Wolverine, we’re gonna honor his last wishes—we’re going to make sure he can rest.”

Jubilee huffed and lowered her head. She seemed to recover quickly. Kitty had underestimated just how hard the past few years had been on the girl. Her teammates in Generation X, then Logan, the Professor, and Bobby—all gone. And even though most of her teammates had returned, the other three were a different story. Kitty had spent so much of the past few years removed from the X-life that it made those losses easier on her. But clearly that wasn’t the case with Jubilation Lee. There was a hardness to her now that wasn’t there before.

“You said the Hand’s got him?” asked Jubilee. “Then you know who else is probably involved in this.”

Kitty nodded. “Yeah, I suspected Tsurayaba. Maybe sees this as his chance to get revenge on Logan.”

“Right. So I’m still goin’ with,” said Jubilee.

“You hear what I said? We’re going to make sure Logan stays dead,” said Wraith.

“Yeah, I heard you,” said Jubilee. “And you’re right. It’s what Wolvie would’ve wanted. Besides, if you’re goin’ up against the Hand, you’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

Kitty smiled. “Come onboard, then.”

Wraith sighed and scratched behind his neck. “Great, now there are two of ’em. At the rate we’re goin’, soon I’ll end up with my own damn X-team.”

Amiko Kobayashi saw the dragon overhead, and at first she was excited. But then her excitement turned to dread as the dragon’s giant form began knocking down buildings.

Her mother picked her up and ran, trying to carry her to safety. But they weren’t able to get far before one of the buildings came down around them. Amiko could pull herself free, but her mother…

“Konnichiwa. O-jô-sama wa dô desu ka?”

The Japanese was almost perfect, though pronounced with the hint of an accent. Amiko cried over her mother as the man pulled her away. He was dressed in a brown and gold outfit with a mask over his face. His arms were exposed and lined with thick, dark hair.

“Musume-san, chotto shizuka ni shite kudasai. Okaasan ni meiwaku o kakenaide.”

He was telling her not to bother her mother, to let her rest. And then she looked upon her mother’s face and she weakly spoke, her eyes on the man she would later come to know as her samurai.

“Shinu ka na?” she asked.

“Hai,” said the samurai.

“Osoreteru.”

“Ore wa soba ni imasu.”

“Atashi no musume—Amiko—dare wa sewa o shimasu ka?”

Without hesitation, the samurai spoke the answer. “Ore desu. Ore wa musume ni mamorimasu. Ore no musume no yô ni sodatsu shimasu. Yakusoku da yo.”

Her mother managed a soft smile just as the light left her eyes and she said her parting words: “Arigatô, samurai-sama. Dômo arigatô…”

That was what had happened. But the strange thing was what the samurai said next.

“First your mom, then me.” He looked up at her and pulled off his mask. He was a little different than she remembered. His body had aged and there was gray in his hair. “Guess I didn’t do such a good job keepin’ my promise, eh?”

“No, that’s not true, Logan,” said Amiko. “You did the best you could…you saved me…gave me a home with Yukio…”

Logan looked around, sniffing the air. Amiko realized that her mother’s body had vanished and that she wasn’t a little girl. She was in her own body.

“What’s going on, Logan?” she asked.

“It’s here…it’s back…” muttered Logan, his claws extending. But they weren’t adamantium like when she first met him. No, they were bone.

“Logan…?”

“The dragon!”

It burst up out of the ground. But the dragon was different. The beast that killed her mother was green. This dragon, though, it was red. And there were horns protruding from its head.

Logan ran for the dragon, leaping into the air with his claws out. And the dragon simply swallowed him whole.

Madripoor

Amiko didn’t know how long she’d been screaming when a slap across her face finally snapped her awake. She shook her head and at first she saw Logan’s face. Amiko gasped, but then the lights were turned on and the features changed slightly, becoming those of Daken’s.

“You okay, kid?” he asked.

Amiko shook her head. “What happened?”

“Damn-near woke all of Lowtown is what happened,” said Izo. “Y’know, I’m over five hundred years old. If anyone needs their beauty sleep, it’s me.”

“Môshiwake gozaimasen,” said Amiko by way of apology.

Izo shook his head and waved his hand. “Shikata ga nai yo.”

He took his leave and Daken focused his attention on Amiko. “Something tells me that wasn’t just a simple dream.”

Amiko shook his head. “I…I think it has something to do with our father…”

To be continued…