There aren't many ways I can get hurt, even less ways I can get killed. Not that that fact has stopped a whole crap load of people from trying to achieve one or the other. Cutting my head off would likely do the trick, so would tearing out my heart, but both of those methods would involve getting through adamantium bones, and I think I can count on my claws just how many people have the weapons to do that. Fire, or an explosion, if it was hot enough and sustained enough like Phoenix fire, or re-entry temperatures, would probably burn away what's left of the human part of me, so that would be another way. Of course someone could always cut off my oxygen, I still have to breathe; that might be the easiest way. You might be asking yourself, Logan? Why the hell are you spending your free time sorting out how it is that you could die? Simple answer, when you've lived as long as I have, and seen things go to hell that way I have, sometimes you're just looking for an out.
Scott calls this place Utopia, I have my own names for it, 'piece of shit rock' comes to mind just at the moment. Used to belong to Magneto, one of my best friends, you might want to re read the second sentence of this little work; he falls into the category mentioned therein. (See I can use big words too.) It was a space base, knocked to earth and submerged at the bottom of the sea for years till Scott decided to dredge it up and make it into the Mutant homeland. Course it has its problems, name not withstanding, no resources to speak of, no means of really sustaining a population, and the best one, it's sinking back into the ocean.
Magneto, Erik, whatever he's calling himself these days, he's on our side now. I still don't quite understand how some people can go from trying to kill you to working to save your sorry ass in such a short time. Don't really feel like asking him about anyways. If he uses his power to keep this rock afloat he won't be able to toy with me anymore, and that suits me just fine.
So I spend a lot of time by myself right now, at least when I'm here on the island. I go to the mainland as often as I can, I pass for normal pretty easily, long as nobody pisses me off. And I still have people who owe me favors, which means I can get supplies. I do my part for our little civilization; don't let anyone say I ain't a team player. I'm just trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life; I guess that's what most of us are trying to do. I sure as hell am not going to spend the rest of it hiding, or sitting on a rock, waiting for someone to decide to drop a bomb on us and rid themselves of the mutant problem once and for all. Right now though, I just don't have the foresight to figure out how any of this is going to get any better. Short of mutant-kind solving the greenhouse gas problem or bringing universal peace I can't see a way that we are going to be heroes any more. But I leave sorting out that shit to people like Scott and Xavier and Fury.
Sometimes I can go off on tangents, you might have noticed. I didn't start writing this to express my great displeasure with my current situation in life. No, believe it or not, I'm trying to sort out something that's been bothering me, in the back of my swiss cheese brain, for quite some time now. I just never had the free time to spend on thinking about it, like I do now. So, now I'm gonna figure it out, or rather, figure her out. If I write it all down I'm less likely to screw it up.