Wolverine: The End

Issue #1

"RENAISSANCE MAN"

Part One – Out With the Old

/SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN ASIA/

"He's unstable, Baron," a shrouded voice said, muffled by the protective sterile suit he wore. "The protein bath isn't helping like we originally thought."

"Just monitor his vitals like you're supposed to and let the real scientists make those observations!" scolded the Baron. His gaze had more than once been the death sentence for his minions, a gaze which he now aimed at the stalwart young man prodding their specimen from inside the sterile chamber. From behind the glass, the Baron watched as the collective minds worked endlessly to restore something of great value.

In the monitor room with the Baron, several men and women stood recording various bits of data that streamed across terminals. They were all experts in their fields…at least what remained of their fields after the Martian attacks. They had survived, as they were part of something much bigger, something that had successfully stayed hidden during most of the occupation.

"We have a pulse!" regarded one woman. She shifted her eyes back and forth between her computer terminal and what lay just beyond them on the other side of the glass, an anxious look on her face.

"You see, Jenkins?" the Baron asked rhetorically, his accent thick. "Those who are quick to judge are usually proven wrong. Finish your analyses and exit the chamber."

Typically the Baron would punish any small amount of insolence he came across, but today he had more pressing matters to be concerned with. After months and months of waiting, hiding, and surviving his organization would finally have what it needed to make its impact in this New World. That thing he had been caring for all this time, that people had assumed was long gone and incinerated, that even the mighty heroes had begun to forget, had just regained its pulse.

A smile crept onto the Baron's thin lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, partially covering the large snake-like emblem encrusted there. The strength of HYDRA would prevail once again, thanks to the new weapon slumbering just behind the glass. When his higher brain functions appeared they would start the programming necessary to ensure his loyalty. After all, the man few knew as Logan had a deep history with HYDRA and wouldn't be compliant.

"The tissue is regenerating around the adamantium skeleton?" the Baron asked, his eyes not moving from the human bobbing up and down in the stasis tube.

"Yes, Baron," a random person answered from behind him. "Tissue growth is currently at fifty-four percent and increasing rapidly. His internal organs completed the restructuring this morning, as did the subject's nervous system. Even though the process was slow at first, we believe that Wolverine will be fully regenerated within the next few hours."

"Perfect," the Baron replied, smiling devilishly.

Tiny bits of flesh and muscle slowly wound together as the cellular makeup of Logan reconstituted itself. At present, his body resembled one that might have been found on the examination slab of a mortician. His skin hadn't yet regrown so most of his muscle and ligaments were exposed, but the nutrient and protein rich chemicals he was floating in helped stop any possibility of infection.

They say all things heal with time. For Logan, his physical lacerations were never a problem when it came to the healing process. His mind, however, was another matter entirely.

"Where am I?" grumbled the deep and raspy voice of Logan.

His surroundings were hazy for lack of a better word. His vision seemed fine but everything here looked out of focus somehow. It was like someone had smacked the universe and it hadn't quite steadied itself yet. Despite the odd atmosphere, Logan could easily tell he was in a wooded area. Trees towered over him at almost mythical heights and the underbrush was thick and green. Judging from the light, Logan guessed it was slightly after dusk.

Everything here was wrong. The most obvious being how the general vicinity looked foggy and ethereal. The sky, while dark, had no clouds or stars in it. He felt tired and slow, like he had just woken up. What bothered Logan the most, however, was his inability to smell anything.

"Trap," Logan muttered as he fell into a defensive crouch. "Keep alert. Keep awake."

"Relax," a soft and feminine voice said from behind a tree. "Everything is going to be okay. You don't have to worry about the things you used to. You've been given a second chance at life and you don't need to be shackled down anymore."

Logan swung around to face the tree, anticipating any number of his usual foes to pop out from behind it. Still in his crouch, Logan narrowed his eyes to try and cut through the haze but to little effect. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Where am I?"

"Who I am isn't an easy question to answer," she replied. "I'm someone you've known all your life, Logan. I'm sorry to say you've forgotten most of our shared past, however. But it doesn't have to be that way anymore! Your mind is healing itself and you can finally understand so much!" Whoever it was, excitement was becoming more evident in her voice. She actually seemed happy at whatever was happening here.

"I don't understand," Logan said, refusing to let his guard down. "What do ya mean my mind is healing itself?"

"Do you recognize this place?"

Logan opened his mouth but no sound came out. He hadn't expected her to answer his question with another question. Standing up slightly and looking around again, Logan took in the large trees and the cool night air. Like her voice, there now seemed something familiar about this tree grove. Things were definitely not as they seemed.

"All right!" he growled. "I've had enough o' this! Come out from there before I take ya out!"

Instead of verbally answering him she slowly stepped out from behind the tree. First he only saw her foot, delicately placed on the ground beside the tree's thickest root. Then her leg, which was mostly covered by a long skirt that seemed dull and ordinary. Next her slender arm that was bare and pale. Finally her face came into view, sparsely covered by her hair, which was a deep red.

"Who…"

"My name is Rose," she spoke softly. "This place is where we used to sit as children and talk about whatever crept into our little heads." She smiled and stepped closer, causing him to step back again, a look of confusion on his face.

"You can't be real…"

"I'm a piece of your recovering memory," said Rose. "That's what this whole place is. A memory. You've been through a lot, Logan. I know this is difficult but now you have a choice to make."

"No," he whispered, glaring at her from across the grove. "No! This isn't real! You aren't real!"

Logan pulled his arms back into one of his signature stances, which he only took when he was ready to bare his claws and fight to the death. He flexed his forearms and listened for the SNKT! that was like music to his ears…but it never came. He hesitated before taking his eyes off of the woman and looking down at the back of his hands. Between his knuckles where there should have been several shards of indestructible metal was nothing but plain skin.

"You're reforming, Logan," the woman named Rose said, stepping even closer. "Your mind is trying to sift through everything that it's been through, using my image to help you make sense of it all. You have a chance at a pure birth, a new life without the weight of your former one. You can finally be who you were meant to be."

It started to make sense now. It wasn't that this place was just part of his mind, but part of his soul. His mutant powers, his bloodlust, his claws…they were all gone here. He was normal. He stood up straight and breathed in, the crisp air filling his lungs as if for the first time.

"I…I died?" Logan asked, surprising even himself. The words hadn't fully been his. It was more of a feeling than anything else, like his recovering mind needed answers.

"Yes," Rose answered, now mere feet away from him. "Your body was destroyed but somehow you've come back to start over again. Your mind was in tatters before, Logan, but you don't have to worry about that anymore. All the manipulations and torment that your mind has gone through has been wiped away."

"I don't…I'm not sure what to do. If you're a memory o' mine and I don't even know you…what does that mean about myself?"

Rose smiled and took another step forward, her face only inches from his own. "It means you finally get to meet yourself. Would you like to know your real name?"

Logan hesitated for the second time, almost scared by the thought of revelation. For so long he had lived without knowing his true identity or where he belonged in this world. He had become accustomed to living a life unlike his peers, always drifting from place to place in search of his own past. To know the truth would mean all of that would be gone and replaced with something foreign to him.

"Tell me," he quietly requested.

"Your name is James," she said. "James Howlett."

"We're registering brain patterns, Baron," Jenkins said from beside Logan's stasis tube.

"Already?" The Baron stepped closer to the glass, leaning forward in anticipation. One of his eyebrows raised up to form wrinkles on his scarred forehead; countless marks of past battles both won and lost. "Begin the virtual reality programming. The closer he comes to full consciousness the farther away he slips from our grasp. Upload the stormbreaker program at once."

Jenkins nodded in understanding, turning away from the stasis tube to pick up a bulky, metal helmet with various wires extruding from the sides of it. It was cold to the touch, even through his sealed gloved. He paused a moment to reflect on the idea of virtually taking over another person's mind…but quickly abolished the passing thought before the Baron decided he was expendable. Linking the helmet to the terminal, Jenkins turned back to the tube. Technological growth had been stifled since the invasion, but HYDRA had managed to hold onto enough information to redesign the brainwashing process. He knew the process was painful for anyone wide-awake and he could only imagine what it would be like for someone barely alive.

"God forgive us," Jenkins whispered, making sure the intercom was off. The Baron, for all his leadership and worth, had denounced God long ago. He much preferred to play the role of God and take what he wanted. Now, he would have this poor feral creature just as soon as the helmet was in place.

"You were born and raised in Alberta, Canada," Rose continued. "You mother's name was Elizabeth Howlett, a lovely woman that always struck me as…beautiful."

Logan, or now James, tilted his head forward in deep thought. It all sounded familiar but that was all. There was no click of recognition or splash of images. The information sounded correct but he couldn't corroborate it. He felt that Rose was telling him the truth but he had no real reason other than his instinct to believe her.

"What about my father?" he growled. For years he had suspected some kind of relation between himself and his mortal enemy, even going so far as to think of him as a possible father figure. The idea of it actually being true made him want to vomit, but in this dreamscape, he wasn't even sure he could throw up.

Rose caught her breath before it escaped her lips. Blinking, she tilted her own head forward slightly as if she were trying to choose her words carefully.

"His name was Thomas Logan," she finally answered. "He was the groundskeeper of your family's estate. I…we…we didn't get along very well. He's dead now."

A weight was lifted off of his shoulders, visibly causing him to stand up straighter. Sabertooth, a menace that had followed him for what seemed like decades, wasn't his father. The haze that permeated the surrounding trees actually began to dissipate slightly. For the first time in as long as he could think, hope had entered his soul again.

"These memories," Logan said. "You, this place, my parents…I don't really remember them. I don't know for sure if it's really right or not, but I feel like it is. Maybe I can--"

The night sky caught his attention as it began to change colors. What had once been a deep, deep blue was now churning into a silky gray. Clouds formed along the edges of his vision and lightning danced and arced between them. Rose stepped back in apprehension, bringing Logan's attention back to her.

"What's happening?"

"You have to choose, James," Rose urged. "Quickly, before it's too late."

"Choose what?"

"Don't you recognize this?" She pointed straight up to the clouds swirling overhead, terror plainly showing on her face. "Your mind is being invaded, again. I'm afraid you won't be able to stand tall during this ordeal. For now the choice is yours on how you handle this. Soon, however, the choice will be made for you."

"I don't understand! Ya have to--"

From the haze still etched in between the trees two glowing eyes suddenly appeared. They were deep and feral, both soothing and relentless at the same time. Below the eyes appeared a row of white, glistening teeth, sharper than anything he had ever seen before. Saliva slid down the teeth and collected into a large drop at the tips, dripping onto the cold ground.

The creature stepped forward out of the murky shadows, revealing itself fully to him. The animal looked strong and virile, even invincible. The powerful muscles were hidden by a sleek coat of fur that reflected the flashes of lightning coming from the sky above. There was no mistaking what the creature was and what it represented in this place. Logan instantly understood what Rose had meant about making a choice.

"Either I embrace the beast inside of me that has been growin' all these years, or I have to risk this fight on my own."

One of the trees splintered, cracking in half as the clouds overhead lowered closer to them. Bits of wood shot out toward them, gently blowing away in the wind. Rose glanced at the sky and then back to the wolverine that had come forth. She looked sad and grief-stricken, her eyes watering.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "The human mind is a delicate thing and yours has been tampered with so many times. But you don't have to do this alone! You don't have to choose that…that thing!" She took another step back and stretched out her hands, opening them to Logan as her skirt blew in the building wind. "You can choose to be with me. I'm the life you should have led, James Howlett. You're stronger than you think! You don't need that monster to get through this!"

He felt like the choice should have been obvious. Rose was offering him what he always desired and with her he might finally be able to escape it all. But the decision wasn't actually that easy. The truth was that his past scared him. He wasn't sure if he could handle finding out which parts of his life were lies. What if the small traces of happiness he clung to turned out to be false? It shamed him but he honestly didn't know what to do.

The wolverine growled and its fur stood up. It lunged forward, covering half the distance between them in one leap. Logan looked the beast over and in it he saw something infinitely more familiar than anything Rose had revealed to him. Despite the longing he felt for the truth, Logan felt at home beside the beast. It was primal and basic. He understood what it needed and how it functioned.

"Don't take the easy way out, James!" Rose called over the ensuing wind. The storm was growing closer and closer. "I promise you that we can handle anything together!"

Looking into the beast's eyes once more, he turned away from it and ran for Rose, determined to not let whoever was causing the maelstrom above win the fight.

"We're experiencing some kind of feedback," Jenkins said, a small amount of alarm in his voice. "He's resisting the program, Baron."

"I see." The Baron leaned over the shoulder of a technician sitting at the console in front of him, keeping his agitation in check. The monitor showed spikes in Wolverine's alpha-wave patterns but as he understood the equipment it was nothing to be seriously alarmed about. "Loop the program back and increase the capacity."

"But, that might kill him--"

"Do as I say immediately!" the leader commanded. His voice and accent cracked slightly as the threat of insolence dared to show itself in the puny Jenkins. "The man is practically immortal, you imbecile! Crush his mind or I shall be forced to crush your throat with my bare hands!"

The wind had changed from a simple whimper to a gargantuan roar. Lightning flashed all around them and the clouds seemed to be practically falling on the pair. As scary as the situation was before, it was downright horrifying now.

"Hold on to me!" Rose screamed. "There's no telling what will happen if you let go!"

He wanted to yell back but the force of the wind kept him from being able to utter a single word. He believed her when she had told him that they could get through it together, but now he was starting to have his doubts.

Lightning tore open the sky, quickly followed by an earth shattering snarl of thunder. The blast knocked him off of his feet and the wind caught him, sending him flailing away from Rose. She reached out but it was too late. He was beyond her grasp.

He pleaded to no one, crying out for the catastrophe to stop. He tried to reach into himself and dig out that familiar primal strength but it wasn't there to grab. The storm tossed him back like a doll and there was nothing he could do but watch as Rose was struck down by a bolt of lightning. Tears filled his eyes as the memory of the woman disintegrated, fragmenting in his psyche. The wind continued to whip him about inside the grove…until a sudden and spiking pain overtook his spine.

He looked over his shoulder to see the lumbering beast from before, his claws firmly planted into his back. The pain obviously hurt but it felt deeper than it actually was. He could feel the pain on multiple levels, and he was almost ashamed to think that he was comforted by it.

The pull of the wolverine was enough to halt his flight and his feet touched the hazy ground once more. Hunching forward, he tried to yank himself free from the beast's claws but to no effect. The tips of the creature's talons were firmly imbedded in his muscle but there was no blood flowing freely. Bending his arm back to the point of dislocation, he wrapped it around the feral animal's head and pulled. The claws finally dislodged, Logan choked the beast's throat with his free hand after grabbing its fur to hold it still.

The wolverine snapped its powerful jaws at him but it couldn't shake free. He could barely here its gasp over the roar of the wind, but it was definitely there. He met its eyes with his own, and delved into the primal instincts that the creature represented. There was a snap of electricity between man and beast as their dual natures mixed, no longer fighting each other like oil and water. He felt power surge up from an almost bottomless well. The beast had not conquered him; he had conquered it.

The storm began to subside as the restless man known by several names tamed the beast within, using its strength to give focus to his mind.

Wolverine opened his eyes inside the stasis tube. The first thing he saw was Jenkins jumping back in surprise, even though he had been keeping track of the program and knew that Wolverine would probably awaken soon. Next he saw the Baron scream from behind the glass, although whatever he was saying Logan couldn't hear it.

The images from his recent mental ordeal were still fresh in his mind and he instantly knew these men were behind it. His one chance at actual piece had been ripped away from him once again. He recognized the crest on the Baron's chest as that of the villainous organization HYDRA. Rage bubbled up from the bit of his stomach and he ground his teeth behind the breathing mask strapped to his face.

Reaching out with his hand, Logan pressed against the glass stasis tube, noticing his confinement for the first time. His anger tripled as he realized what was going on. Most of his memory now restored, this was much too close to a past experience for him to simply be upset. It was like he was reliving the hell he had experienced all those years ago. He felt the animal inside him demand satisfaction, tearing to get out.

Glancing down at his other arm, Wolverine flexed his forearm. Even through the viscous liquid swirling around him he could hear the sound the animal needed to hear. It was the sound that marked his freedom and the death of everyone in the building. Three long, metal blades erupted from his knuckles, assuring him that he was again in control. With a surge or aggression, Wolverine sliced into the glass housing of the stasis tube, spilling the protein-rich liquid onto the sterile floor.

He was violently angry but it felt different. He didn't blindly crave the fresh smell of blood anymore. Now he had his berserker rage in check, using it to fuel his strength and motivation.

Stepping out, Wolverine placed his wet foot onto the cold floor and stared directly at Jenkins, who was frantically trying to escape the room. Raising his other arm, Wolverine flexed his forearm yet again in order to elicit the signature sound that would be the last thing Jenkins ever heard…other than his own screaming.

"SNKT!"

TO BE CONTINUED