Tranquil. That described the scene perfectly. The flowers of the lush garden smiled up at the morning sun, birds sang in the trees and the love-dyed cherry blossom floated around gently in the zephyr from the north. On the horizon, faint white mountains touched the sky like snowy towers. A brook wound its way through the garden, and over by the quaint wooden cottage a bridge spanned it. On the bridge was a couple holding hands, gazing down at the playful carp.
The man was scarcely taller than his partner, but she rested her head on the gap between shoulder and chin. Both had jet-black hair, ruffled and slightly wild, only the woman's was more stylish. She was Japanese, pretty and youthful. Her lover was distinctly more western, and had a roguish face complete with sideburns. They looked at ease in the ladies' homeland retreat. As the carp swam away, the man turned to the woman and they looked at each other, face to face.
"I could spend the rest of my life here with you," he said, his husky voice mellowed with love, "These past years have been the happiest of my life. This country, this place, you and Sensei, have taught me to … be at peace with the world. For the first time I don't feel anger or resentment towards anyone. I feel safe."
The woman looked at him, smiling.
"But I have to go," he continued. Her face fell. "Don't worry! It won't be for long I hope. It's just, that letter I got this morning, it was from an old friend back in Canada. He's in trouble and needs my help. I normally wouldn't go, but … I owe him,"
"I understand, Logan. You must honour your friendship," the woman said.
"I promise you I will come back. It may not be soon – his problem may take months or even years – but I will return. Wait for me, Yuriko." Logan replied
"I would wait a lifetime for you," she said. They kissed and embraced. Then Logan left the garden and went inside to pack. The breeze turned bitter, and one of the flowers began to wilt.
Logan woke up with a headache. He turned over in the dark of his bedroom. A sliver of silver radiance cut across him from the curtains, highlighting his features. He was older, and stubble forested his face. Again he turned, hoping to drop back off to sleep. But it was no use. He couldn't doze off, not when he had Yuriko on his mind. He should have been over her by now though, it had been ten years. Ten years since he had returned to her in Japan, only to be told she was dead. In truth, she still held a special place in his heart, but the wound was mostly healed. It was such a shame Logan, who as a mutant possessed an accelerated healing factor, could not recover from broken hearts so quickly.
He got up and left the bedroom, leaving his roommate Piotr snoring loudly. He was now on the landing of the Xavier mansion, Logan's current place of abode. It served primarily as a school for mutants, but also as a base of operations for a group known as the X-men. Logan, or Wolverine as he was more commonly called, was a member of that group. The 17th century manor was old but outfitted with the most modern equipment. The doors, for example, opened automatically. Heading for the kitchen downstairs, Wolverine passed the silent staircase and corridor.
Once there, he got a bottle of cola out of the fridge and sat down to drink it. His thoughts were still on Yuriko, and despite his best efforts, they remained there. She had been the love of his life, and Logan just let her slip through his fingers. If only he hadn't left her. If only he had ignored his friends' plea for help. But that was all in the past, and there was nothing that could be done to change it. He looked at his hands, and with a sound like a sword being drawn, three metal blades popped out of the knuckles of each. Wolverine let out a low growl. These were the constant reminder of his loss. These claws, he thought, cost me Yuriko. With another metallic scrape, the blades withdrew. Still pondering his history and the many 'what if?' scenarios, he finished his drink and returned to bed, but gained little more slumber.
The next morning, Wolverine's fellow X-men and the students of the academy all felt the bitter taste of his tired grumpiness. Those poor souls who had physical training class with him that day (the day job of the X-men was to teach the students) were forced on a rigorous regime of assaults courses and circuit training. And any who complained did extra. In the afternoon, Logan had no classes to teach and sat in one of the darker living rooms, brooding. It was only when his closest friend in the academy, a Chinese-American girl named Jubilee invited him to a game of basketball, did he cheer up slightly. Gambit, a Cajun ex-thief and card shark joined them. Wolverine always enjoyed beating the cocky Cajun.
The game worked wonders on Logan, relieving much of his stress and anxiety. He and Jubilee beat Gambit twice before he even managed to get a single basket. Just as they were beginning the fourth game did the beeping of Wolverine's commlink disturb them. A useful device given to all the X-men, it allowed them to communicate with each other at all times. Shaped like a 'x', it flipped open to reveal a little video screen where a blue furry face was waiting patiently.
"Hank, what's the prob?" asked Wolverine, who would be appearing on Hank's own screen. A doctor of science whose mutation turned him into a blue beast, Henry 'Hank' McCoy was one of the first X-men.
"I'm up at the hospital at the moment, Logan, helping out," Hank said
"State the obvious why don't you? You always help out on Thursday," Wolverine replied, a little taken aback by the clever man's momentary stupidity.
"Yes, of course," the blue man replied, "I am contacting you because I need your help," Wary of people in need for an old reason, Wolverine eyed Hank suspiciously.
"What's wrong?" asked Wolverine
"Nothing drastic," said Hank, "but I need you to come down for blood samples,"
"Ain't Jean helping out to? Why can't she do it?" He referred to Jean Grey, another member of the X-men.
"Yes, but it is your blood that I need. It's your healing factor that I'm interested in," Hank sounded quite serious, and he was a pal. Wolverine reluctantly agreed.
"I got to go," he said to the others, closing the commlink, "Hank needs me,"
Jubilee and Gambit were disappointed, but Jubilee said she had History class anyway. And so Wolverine jumped in one of the cars parked in the garage and motored away out of the Xavier Estate and down to the hospital in nearby Salem Centre. There was heavy traffic due to the rush hour, and Logan sat in increasing impatience, waiting for the queue to shift.
A sign saying 'Route H' returned Wolverine to his reminiscing. Unwillingly, his thoughts rolled back to the day he arrived back in Canada. His flight had been full of sadness from the goodbye with Yuriko, but he got on with what he had to do. After contacting his friend, he met up with him in a bar in Toronto. Victor Creed was his name. Wolverine still cursed it. The snarling, bad tempered thug had looked no different to the last time Wolverine had seen him. If Creed hadn't of helped Logan when he had run into trouble with the law years before, he would have never spoken to him again gladly.
"Logan!" said Creed as he saw Wolverine walk into the bar. He did not reply but walked and pulled up a chair opposite the bulked up man. Creed had hooked teeth and ragged blonde hair.
"s'me who's in trouble with the cops this time," Creed began. Although the words suited modesty, the man was more boasting than anything.
"Just cut to the chase, Vic. What do you need me to do?" Wolverine cut in
"I know this guy, Dr Cornelius he calls himself, and he says if I can get you to join a gover'ment program, I won't be prosecu'ed," Creed said
"No way," said Wolverine shortly
"C'mon, Logan, you owe me. It's run by Department H, and they're good guys," Creed rebuked
"I ain't so sure, I've heard some disturbing things about them. What does this program do?"
"It's called Weapon X, you jus' gotta do some trainin' and then you go free. I have to do it as well,"
"For how long?" Yuriko was burning on Wolverine's mind
"'Bout a year"
Wolverine looked away, disgusted. He really had to do it, all his learning in Japan had taught him to honour debts and friendships. But, Yuriko… Would she wait for a year? Could Logan expect her to wait? Then again, she did love him. He so wanted to see her again. Creed was hardly a friend anyway.
"You gotta, Logan," Creed muttered
Despite feeling the surge of annoyance at being told what to do, he looked up and said coldly, "I'll do it, but the second it's over I'm outta here,"
The next day they drove up to the facility in the mountains. Situated in a tree-filled valley, it was powered by a massive damn, forming a lake that gave its name to the base. So, Wolverine took his first sight of that unholy place, Alkali Lake, as he passed a clump of dense foliage at the top of the valley.
The first six months went fine. Creed and Logan, it turned out, were not the only ones undergoing the training. There was a Cheyenne woman who called herself Silver Fox, a man known as Puck and German twins. Dr. Cornelius was a snooty bald man with thick glasses, annoying and impatient. The other enforcers of the camp weren't much better, especially one young officer, William Kincaid. He particularly enjoyed shouting orders at the 'recruits'. Creed nearly killed him once, but Logan stopped him.
But on the day that the program was meant to end, there was a nasty turn of events. The others left, leaving only Creed and Logan. Dr Cornelius had asked them to come see him in his lab before they left, for their payment. Itchy to return to his love, Logan was not as keen as Creed. But Victor Creed was a greedy man. Once in the laboratory, Logan immediately sensed the trap. He was set upon by six burly guards, and bound. Creed looked and laughed.
"You should never o' come, Logan," he mocked
And that was the last he remembered. The next memory Logan had was running through a snow carpeted pine forest, the lake in the distance, panting loudly. He was naked, and very cold, but that was the least of his concerns. He now had his three claws on each hand – things that had not been there before. Around his neck was a tag that had written on it 'Wolverine' – from that moment on he was known only as that, until he came to the X-mansion and through mind-reading sessions with Professor Xavier (the founder of the X-men and headmaster of the school) recovered his name. Reports given to him in hindsight told Logan that he had single-handedly decimated the facility, murdered countless doctors and soldiers, then fled into the mountains. Dr Cornelius, who had survived, had performed a cruel experiment on him. Logan's skeleton had been bonded with the unbreakable metal adamantium. He wandered in the wild for along time, living as an animal. His amnesia haunted him with fleeting shadow memories existing in his dreams alone and the feeling of deep longing in his heart. Whenever he thought about that time afterwards, he always got the feeling that so much more happened, more people were involved, but were just beyond the threshold of thought.
Then, one day, he remembered. He did not know how, or why, but Yuriko's face came to him clear as day. Logan knew what he must do. He prepared himself, and left for Japan. He did not know how long he had been gone, but to him it felt like forever. Upon his return he sought out his old spiritual teacher, a man of great wisdom who had taught Logan his ethics and code of honour. But the teacher had died – his grave was in the garden of the house he, Yuriko and Logan had shared those many years ago. There was no sign of Yuriko either. Wallowing in despair and guilt, he remained at the house. For the time he stayed there it could not be said that he lived; he existed. He had no joy or comfort. In the middle of winter, when the snow was thick on the ground, Logan was visited. His unexpected guest was a man with a sallow face, white as the snow, with jet hair and goatee beard. There was a red diamond shaped mark on his forehead. He was like a ghost; he seemed to appear out of thin air.
All he said was: "Yuriko Oyama is dead, like Sensei. Both were killed by a vicious order of warriors, led by the Silver Samurai. Their headquarters are in the mountains to the north,"
Wolverine did not believe it at first, but before he could question the man he was gone. Logan did not see him again. This news being the only lead he had, he assumed it truthful. And now there was a new emotion in him – fury. He left the house that same day, and began his quest to track down Yuriko's murderer.
It took a long time, many years, but Logan found the Silver Samurai. Actually a mutant with the gift of teleportation, he was proud and arrogant. All the same, he denied the murders. He claimed that he never heard of either person. In a fit of distraught rage, Wolverine killed the Silver Samurai and his whole tribe. Men, women, children; none were spared by the animal. It was soon after this that Professor Xavier found him, having used a machine known as Cerebro to track Logan. Xavier offered him membership in the X-men, and as part of that group Wolverine learned to control his anger, and regained much more of his memory.
The chorus of tooting cars snapped Logan out of his daydream. Apparently the other motorists weren't too happy about the idleness of the X-man's car. The traffic jam had cleared – at least up to Wolverine. He rubbed his eyes, and drove on. Darkness had fallen. Now into Salem Centre, the tall hospital skyscraper loomed up ahead of him at a junction, higher than most. Salem Centre Hospital blazed at the peak in neon, more so in the new night.
Logan parked the car, and went through the revolving glass doors into the spotless hospital. The place was busy, and Wolverine had to master his irritation waiting in a long queue up to the reception. Asking at the desk, the receptionist told Logan that Dr McCoy was on the top floor, in his research laboratory. He took the lifts and arrived with a ping on level 70. There was no corridor, but the lift opened straight onto the lab instead. But it was deserted. Logan found Hank's desk, and on it, a note.
Logan – I have just popped up to the roof to get better reception for my commlink. If I'm not back, take the stairs to the right and you'll spot me. Hank.
Sighing in annoyance, Wolverine jogged up the stairs. However, there was no one there. He was in the cold open air and the only light was from the neon sign. With a low growl, he leant against the stairwell that rose up out of the previous floor.
Then he heard a voice that made his heart race and the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He straightened up immediately. The sound leered out of the past, but unlike it's sweet, kind former self, it now had become synonymous with a mechanical, robotic whine as if the person were talking into a tin can.
"Hello, Logan," it said.
Wolverine turned to his left slowly, as if in a trance. And there, to his utter surprise, was Yuriko. But no longer was she the woman he had left in Japan. Her hair could not be seen under a beige head-dress. She thick strips of brown leather that criss-crossed her torso, covering a baggy white robe. She also wore in thigh length leggings. And then there were her arms. They had become elongated and instead of fingers in her hands she had twelve-inch talons. The bare skin at her shoulder showed strange patterns that resembled circuitry. But what shocked Wolverine the most was her face. It was a shadow of the prettiness Logan had known, and the eyes were cold and inhuman. She had a fixed expression of mingled satisfaction and contempt.
The effect on seeing the love of his life, whom he had thought dead, alive before him was like throwing a bucket of icy water on Logan. He stood stunned on the spot – mouth open, eyes wide. But was she even alive? What were these changes? What had happened? He mouthed her name, the words losing their way to the outside.
"Aren't you pleased to see me?" she said with mock laughter.
"But…you were… dead." Wolverine mumbled
"Dead? Ha!" she shrieked, "I am beyond death,"
"How…what…why?" said Logan breathlessly.
"I shall tell you the whole story," she said, "so that you know the absolute truth of your sins,"
"Sins?"
"Yes, SINS!" he voice once again rose to a scream as she said it. Anger seemed to have been brought about in her. "Do you even know what you have done, Logan? When you left me for Canada, you left for a life of murder and deceit!" Wolverine looked horrified, "Yes, I know about Weapon X. And the murder of Silver Samurai's tribe. You animal! How could you? You spilled innocent blood,"
"Heh, those maniacs at Alkali Lake weren't innocent!" defended Logan, his stubborn sense of justice rising up in spite.
"WEREN'T INNOCENT!" she wailed, her voice shaking in fury, "HOW DARE YOU! Did you know, Logan, that one of those maniacs was my father!"
Wolverine spluttered in the midst of his counter argument. He had no idea – no memory at all of his time between being betrayed by Creed and running through the forest. People – the Professor, special agent Nick Fury, Kincaid (whom he had met briefly the year before) – had told him that after being infused with the adamantium he had gone on the rampage, killing as he went. Quite easily he could have slaughtered Yuriko's father, and never had known.
"I didn't know…I don't remember," said Wolverine, reduced by this revelation back to his mumbling.
Yuriko continued, quieter but with the same damning tone, "My father was the man who invented the bonding process that gave you that unbreakable skeleton, and those claws. Now, nestled behind your knuckles you have the murder weapons. I would gladly rip them out of you. I felt like that when I was told, and so I sought a way to gain my revenge. Ironically, it was Dr Cornelius – the same man who dealt with you – that offered me the means to exact my vengeance. He knew the training you had been through, and as I was I stood no chance. With the help of other Weapon X survivors he trained me to become as deadly as you are. But unlike your brutal animalism, I am a refined and honed assassin. Even with that though, I could not beat you because of your healing power. Well, Logan, it turns out that I too have an accelerated healing factor. Because of that, Dr Cornelius offered to perform a series of experimental operations on me so that I could be above even your level. I accepted, and I became what I am today: half woman, half machine – a cyborg."
Wolverine was crest-fallen. He felt the bitter sting of his actions so long ago. It was his fault that his beloved was now a cyborg. He was to blame for her maddening quest of vengeance. But both mutants had paid the price.
"Yuriko –" Wolverine said, moving forward to touch her. But she recoiled as if burnt by boiling water.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she yelled, "I ceased being Yuriko Oyama the day I found out you had betrayed me," she raised her hand and admired her claws, "I am known now as Lady Deathstrike,"
The sadness of the situation gripped Wolverine – Yuriko hated him that much that she had changed her name. But through his guilt-laden misery, there swam into his mind's eye an image of a blue furry man in a white lab coat.
"What have you done with Hank?" Logan asked
"Your friend is safely asleep in the broom cupboard of his lab," Lady Deathstrike replied
"How did you force him to get me here?"
"I did nothing. I had an accomplice," a snide smile twisted Yuriko's features. "An old ally who owed me a favour. She has the ability to shape-shift into any other person. It was she who drugged your friend and contacted you,"
"Let me guess, Mystique? No wonder Hank sounded stupid on the 'link."
"You know of her then?"
"You could say that," the many unpleasant memories of the X-mens' encounters with the genetic terrorist called Mystique floated to the fore of Logan's mind. Shaking his head to rid himself of them, Wolverine felt his duty. He had to dissuade her from this crusade.
"Yuriko, I love you," Wolverine said, again going forward. He did mean it, deep down. But Yuriko backed off.
"Maybe I once loved you as well," she answered, "But no more. I am incapable of any feeling except my desire for vengeance and sense of honour. That, and PURE HATRED," The words seemed to raise Lady Deathstrike to a frenzy, and she clenched her fists as best she could without cutting her own hand to pieces.
"Listen, I didn't know about father. I never would have laid a finger on him if I had known," Logan pleaded
"So does that excuse the murders of all those others? Those scientists, those villagers," Deathstrike retorted
"I thought Silver Samurai's tribe had killed you, Yuriko," Logan said desperately
"How could little children and honest woman have committed murder?" said the woman that had been Yuriko long ago, "And for the last time – Yuriko is gone, there is ONLY DEATHSTRIKE!" And with that she held back no longer, and leapt at her ex-lover. When Wolverine unsheathed his own claws to defend himself, the sight of them incited Deathstrike further, and her assault doubled in ferocity.
The battle was long and bloody. Because both mutants could heal any injury rapidly, neither could be grievously hurt. Lady Deathstrike unleashed fifteen years of loathing in her furious onslaught. She slashed, stabbed, ripped and tore with all her might. But such was the skill of Wolverine that few blows made their way through his adamantium defence. He had no heart to harm Yuriko, and only parried her. She drove him steadily towards one edge of the building, where a satellite pylon extended the building's height by another dozen metres. Noticing this, Deathstrike pivoted round and scuttled up it like some giant mechanical spider. At the top she turned, still clinging to the triangulated struts, to look down on Wolverine. She was coiled like a viper, ready for the kill. Logan stepped back to take her position in, and found himself at the precipice between roof and sidewalk. All that stopped him were flimsy iron railings.
"Come down, Yuriko! I love you!" Logan shouted. His normally gruff voice was diminished to a lovelorn whimper.
"I have forsaken my humanity for revenge," Deathstrike hissed down at him through clenched teeth, "I will not give in now!" She launched herself at Wolverine, who instinctively dashed aside. Her full force crashed into the railings, which easily tore asunder. Clawing at the fallen barrier, she tumbled off the roof. Logan howled as he saw her hand disappear from view. His heart threatened to burst out, and his whispered her name in sorrow.
Then a gasping sound like a steam train struggling up a hill made Logan look round. There, with her talons scratching away at the concrete and her head bobbing up, was Lady Deathstrike. She was struggling to get a grip, and kept slipping down with a jolt. Wolverine scrambled up to help, but when he got near she slashed him viciously across the face. Then she lost her hold completely, and fell away. Logan lunged after her, looking down over the edge of the building to the street below. And still she wasn't gone. She had just caught the dangling railing, which was obviously stronger than it looked as it was holding her weight. Yuriko however seemed to know her fate, and surveyed the ground far below. When her head turned back to Logan, he thought he saw a glimmer of humanity return to her cybertronic eyes.
"My death is not one you will know, Logan," she said grimly, "No slow solemn sleep for Lady Deathstrike. Only an eternity of replacement parts and the smell of hot solder," After the next glance to the street, Yuriko's eyes returned to their lifeless selves. Wolverine could find no words to say, and only looked longingly at her. He tried again to reach for her hand, but she batted it away.
"Let me help you, please," Logan said
She ignored him, and instead said, "You have won, Logan, for now!" and the railing gave way. Lady Deathstrike fell to her doom. Her last words echoed in Logan's head for a long time after they had been blown away by the wind.
How long he stayed there for he didn't know, but suddenly he realised that Yuriko's broken body would be on the pavement, and that he should give her an honourable burial. Logan raced down the stairs, remembering half way about Hank in the broom cupboard. He was obviously awake, because a loud banging was issuing from the door. Mystique had tied him up, so Wolverine cut Hank's bonds, and ran off before the good doctor could even thank him. He took the lift, and paced it's interior impatiently while he descended through seventy floors. He squeezed out the lift doors before they had fully opened, and sped outside. But no matter where he looked on the road or pavement around the building, and indeed nearby buildings, he could find no sign of Yuriko. In vain hope he searched for two hours long, until Hank managed to find him three blocks away from the hospital. Logan didn't feel much like explaining, and slouched off back to the car. As he began his journey back to the mansion, he found himself cursing his own name, Victor Creed and the vile Dr Cornelius.
And far away, a pale faced man with a red diamond mark on his forehead was flexing his long fingers. A muscled lackey entered his pristine room, and dumped the crippled figure of Lady Deathstrike on a table behind the mysterious man. As the minion exited, the creepy man laughed; his plan complete.