The spear darted out at him; irritated, he caught the blade in his claws and with his other arm he lashed down; his claws sheared the spearhead from the heavy iron shaft in a shower of sparks. Belasco lashed out at him with the bar, and Logan ducked to come up with his claws punching through Belasco's elbow armor. Logan wrenched them free, and with his other claws he slashed at the wrist. The gauntlet was sheared off, along with Belasco's thumb.

Belasco roared a strange curse, and flame engulfed Logan, hurling him backwards to crash into a stone chunk. There was a meaty clang as Logan crushed into the rock, then he fell out of the crater he had made, smoking. The rock at Belasco's feet hissed as his blood spattered down.

Belasco turned and stared at Lisa. He pointed at her with the hand that was still gauntleted. "Destroy her," he growled.

"We… we cannot, Sire," groveled a large black and purple demon at his feet. "Your wards… your commands…"

"It seems I must do everything myself," Belasco snarled. He picked up the heavy iron bar that had once been a spear, and he strode towards Lisa.

She watched him come, her mind racing with half-grasped memories. Her past was coming back to her, but too slowly. "Your creatures cannot touch me because you protected me from them, each and every one of them, when I was brought here," she said breathlessly.

"Yes," Belasco said. He stopped twenty feet away. "Perhaps it is not too late. Do you wish to be my apprentice?"

"Again?" she asked haughtily, her words surprising her. "I escaped you once."

"It seems unlikely your savior will be so successful a second time," Belasco said, gesturing toward the charred hunk of meat and metal that was struggling to rise. "He stole you from true power. He stole you from your fate."

Logan struggled to speak, but his lungs were still full of smoke; his throat nothing but a charred tube of meat; his tongue half bitten off from the jarring impact of his crash. He could not yet see, but his hearing was returning.

His claws were still sharp.

"If that is your choice," Belasco said to Lisa, his fingers tracing over the clean cut at the end of his staff, "then I will destroy you."

"No," she said. "I will not let you."

"You will stop me? Alone, unarmed, powerless, defenseless?"

"Not at all," she said, as memory surged in her. She stretched out her hand, and her birthright erupted through the stone before her. A column of rock shoved out of the barren ground, and a hilt punched through. Shining, silver, gleaming in an ornate twisted pattern. She grasped the hilt and tore the blade free of the rubble; it gleamed pale and did not reflect the troubled flaming sky.

"It has grown since I saw it last," Belasco said, his voice almost reverent, as the pale light reflected in his eyes, shone off his dull armor. A cruel smile twisted his face, exposing his dark teeth. "Indeed, this becomes interesting."

"Help me," Kurt said softly. Lisa spun, her blade arcing through the air with the hiss of hot steel plunged in cold water; the blade hit the ensorcerelled cage and slashed through three bars. She gripped the sword and swung again, and severed bars fell hissing as the cage went dark and began to sift rust. Kurt bounded out.

"Most interesting," Belasco intoned, his face a mask of dark joy.

Then his eyes shot wide open as his blood fountained into his mouth; he staggered forward accompanied by the screech of razor sharp claws tearing out of his armored back.

Unsteady on his feet, Logan stumbled back. Belasco whirled to face him, and Kurt sailed in. The dark and nimble attacker's blade slipped between flesh and one of the staples that held Belasco's head on; Kurt flexed, and the staple sprang out of Belasco's neck and skittered across the stone.

Belasco clapped a hand to his neck and leaped to the side, then he turned to face them both. "I see," he said. "You aren't finished with your beating yet."

"We like it," Kurt said, his brilliantly white teeth stained pink with his own blood. One of his eyes was swollen almost entirely shut. He was light on his feet and ready for more.

Lisa felt her rage building. "This soulblade is not my only weapon," she said, desperately trying to remember. "And you will not bring harm to my friends." Her eyes narrowed, and fury blossomed in her heart. As it did, she felt her sword twitch in her fist, and sleek armor hissed out across her hand, then up to encase her forearm. It glittered, and she felt her breath come hot and fast. Yes. Yes, the joy of battle was beginning to well up in her; she knew for the first time the hot rage that Logan felt, the rage that left its taste stamped in her mouth. Yes.

She turned to the demons that were waiting, unsure. "Stay out of this," she hissed, and they backed down. It seemed Belasco had forgotten about them. She felt them; she felt their lives like she had never felt anything before. Now, holding the soulblade, she could somehow sense the land itself, and all that walked upon it.

"Let's even things up, shall we?" murmured Belasco. He gestured at Kurt again. As Kurt leaped back cringing, Lisa flung out her hand, fingers stiff. Belasco moved to tear at the elfin swordsman, throwing him sideways through underspace again. Lisa blocked him; this was her space too. For just a moment, their wills locked.

Logan could not speak yet, but he could see well enough to spot an opening. He lunged forward and slammed his claws into the side of Belasco's knee; they screeched through the armor and punched out the other side, transfixing his meat on the three blades. Simultaneously his other claws darted up and caught in Belasco's wrist armor. Logan dug in his heels and shoved sideways; Belasco tottered for a moment then Logan twisted his claws, swinging Belasco off balance and tearing his knee with audible pops of bone and tendon. Belasco howled as he slung to the ground, and Logan tore free and hopped back.

Kurt needed no further encouragement; hideously nimble, he darted in, his hands gripping Belasco's head even as the demon warrior rose to a kneeling position. In a lightning fast flurry of action, Kurt's tail popped a staple out as he went for two more with his nimble feet, prizing them free. Belasco's scream became a choke as Kurt sprang away, closely followed by the hissing slash of the iron bar. Belasco poured flaming energies after him, but Kurt spun and leaped and tumbled, unpredictable and oddly graceful.

The bar Belasco held in his other hand was momentarily forgotten. Logan slashed the bar in two and snatched up a four-foot section. He struck, all the might of his short body packed into the swing. It caught Belasco in the temple; the few remaining staples could not keep his head on. Belasco's head tore loose and sailed through the dim air, thudding down on stone, rolling a few feet, coming to a stop.

"Damn you!" screamed Belasco. "I will be back! I will slay you all! My vengeance is coming!"

Logan limped over to the head, rammed the bar into the cursing mouth, and lifted the head up. He trudged over to a hissing current of lava, then dropped the head and the bar in. There was a flare, and a horrid sizzle, then Belasco's head spoke no more. Kurt and Logan took the cautious route and dumped the body in after it.

The woman that had been Lisa stood, rigid, her sword's tip sunk into the stone, her eyes shut but her demeanor staring all the same. Then she relaxed, and lifted her blade. It had a hand and a half grip; the weapon seemed longer, more vivid than it had before. Armor gleamed on her hand, her forearm. She looked at her rescuers, and to Logan it seemed like she barely recognized them.

He was a meaty mess; his hair was flamed off, along with much of his flesh. As he regenerated, blood flowed from his ruptured body. He collapsed, the need for battle gone, the pain returned.

Kurt stood panting, his tongue pink and flat in his dark mouth. He wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand, and he glanced over the assembled demons, ready to keep fighting if necessary.

"Trespasser," Lisa said to Kurt in a clear voice. "That is your name from now on. To my Horde," she said, her voice ringing across the assembly, "he is not to be intercepted. As he travels in the realm near this one in his teleportation, leave him alone."
"Thank you," Kurt said, bowing to her with his fist over his heart. "That will be most acceptable."

She looked across the ranks. "Where is your leader? Where is Sym?"

"Here," he grunted, a huge dark-hued creature.

"You were not in the fighting," she said coolly.

"I had my reasons," he grinned. "I knew you'd win."

"Of course you did," she said. "My memory has gaps. Fill me in."

The demon drew out a cigar and lit it with his pinky finger. He took a deep drag, then puffed out a smoke ring. "You were captured from Prime by Belasco when you were three. He raised you to be his apprentice and taught you as much as you'd need to know. He had a bigger plan for you when you were snatched out from under his nose by some enterprising trespassers."

Energies swirled in her eyes. "I know how to move back and forth between the realms," she said softly. "Between this underspace and realspace."

"That would be Limbo and Prime," Sym nodded.

She looked out over the demons. "Disperse," she said. They dutifully trooped off; this was her world now. She knelt by Logan. "Looks like you saved me again, my knight in shining armor," she said.

"I think our friend needs some time alone," Kurt murmured to her. Logan managed a nod, then collapsed near exhaustion. His healing was slower; enough to keep him alive, in great pain. Kurt wondered for a moment what the Project would think if they could have seen him fight. What his will pushed him to survive.

"You've been here before," the woman said to Kurt. He nodded.

"What do I call you?" he asked.

Her forehead creased. "I do remember the name Illyana, but I don't remember anything about it. I guess that's mine. I've been called Lisa my whole life," she said, gesturing to the man on the ground, "but it just doesn't seem to be me anymore; it was a lie the whole time. Just call me Swordbearer until I get it sorted out," she said, glancing down the length of her weapon.

Kurt nodded. "As you wish. I was assisting Logan in escaping the Project, many years ago. When I teleport, or trespass as you put it, I move through a space between realspace and here; I guess I'd call it underspace. Apparently that put an itch in Belasco that he wanted to scratch, so he diverted me, just like he did this time. Logan took exception; he was meaner then. He took Belasco by surprise. Belasco wore no armor. Logan just, whssht" Kurt gestured, "took his head clean off in one hit. You were here, locked up in a metal box, a pretty little girl. Logan said he didn't have the heart to leave you with the demons. So he took you when I trespassed us out of this place. Raised you as his own."

"No wonder he had difficulty explaining to me where I came from," she said, looking down at him. He looked back at her, not trying to speak.

"He told me that he thought you could both overcome your circumstances and be better," Kurt said quietly.

She squatted down next to Logan. "We had our uses for each other, didn't we, Logan. You raised me and I gave you a measure of humanity. The score is even between us."

He struggled to speak; first a clammy whistling noise. He closed his mouth, closed his eyes, then tried again. "I wasn't keepin score, darlin," he managed.

She stood. "The rest of my life seems like a dream," she said to Kurt. She looked around the landscape.

Rock shifted on the uneven sea of magma. Here and there were stunted growths. The sky was dark flame.

"I can make this place better," she said. "It is just raw material. I know how to shape it. I don't know how I know, but I do. Belasco wanted this. He is a fool. I will make it better."

"As you wish," Kurt said, helping Logan to his feet. "What of Tymaz Nine?"

"No human mortal poison can touch me here," she shrugged. "I imagine it would be a problem if I were to return. Now let's see what I can do here." She jammed the tip of her sword in the stone and rubbed her hands together, the gauntlet against her flesh. "Let's get started."

xXx

By the time Logan could walk and had stubble on his raw flesh, they were within a crude throne room shaped from basalt stone. A massive throne dominated one side, and before it was a scrying pool. There was space for demon courtiers on the sides, and a small platform for Sym. The style was somewhere between cave and cathedral. Kurt crouched by Logan, who sat holding very still as his body knitted itself into one piece.

"We should not overstay our welcome," Kurt said softly.

"I know. I'm tryin. I'll need some food, and a lot of it, before long."

The demon Sym grunted. "Your guests are ready to go."

The Swordbearer nodded. "Trespasser, let me save you some effort. Come stand before me."

Logan hauled himself up, and he and Kurt approached her.

She stretched her arm out towards them, fingers stiff; a flaring disc of empty light ringed in dark flame appeared under them and swept up;

Then they were standing ankledeep in the snow on the fringe of a dark wood. Dusk was falling.

"Great," Logan muttered. "Just great."

"I hate to have to say this," Kurt started.

"Then don't," Logan grunted, his voice flat.

"She's evil. She's tainted. No love can heal that. Not even yours, Logan."

"I just can't believe that," Logan said. "I won't believe it."

"You saw with your own eyes," Kurt said, a hint of anger in his smooth voice. "She rules demons."

"What are you exactly," Logan said, looking him in the eye. "How are you different from a demon, my friend?"

Kurt pursed his lips and looked away. "Enough of this. Forget I brought it up." He looked out across the snowy field. "I can't thank you enough for what you did for me, Logan."

"Who's keepin score?" Logan muttered, looking away. "We both got our debts. Forget about it. You need somethin, I'll be there if I can."

They both heard it at the same time. The dull thud of helicopter blades beating through the air.

"How'd they find us?" growled Logan.

Kurt winced. "You're tagged, must be," he said.

"I bet they stuck it in my flamin spine," growled Logan.

Kurt looked at him sideways. "Fight or flee?" he said.

"Git outa here," Logan growled. "They can't track you, you're too damn good. If they take us both nobody can save me." Then his head swiveled towards the woods in alarm as he sniffed. "Oh no—" His claws shot free of their flesh housings as something in the woods stirred.

It was too late to trespass. The huge shape that leaped out of the woods landed a solid blow between Kurt's shoulder blades, hurling him forward and knocking out his breath. Kurt's reflexes got his hands up in time; he slammed into a tree and bounced, landing senseless and sprawled on the snow. A fraction of a second slower, and Kurt would be dead instead of unconscious. Logan faced the attacker, his face set in a grim mass.

"Heya runt," Creed grinned, snow still clinging to his mane.

"Creed," Logan said. "Just can't seem to shake you for long."

"You have something I want," Creed said.

"More trouble'n it's worth,"

"Sez you, mister prototype," sneered Creed. "Your skeleton gives you the edge you need to survive me. When I get one like yours, then we'll have this conversation again. The adamantium coated your bone claws. What d'ya think it'll do for mine?" he leered, easing the razor sharp black talons out of his fingertips. "Anything you can survive, I can survive."

"I'm tired, Creed. Let's get on with it."

"Whassamatter, Logan, lose the old fire?"

"Don't talk to me about fire," Logan winced. "You gonna throw a punch or jabber at me till the soldiers show up?"

Creed started circling him. Logan stood with his head down, alert, waiting. Creed was hesitating. This was not what he expected.

"You can't take me, runt," Creed mocked. "On a good day, maybe. Yer lookin old."

"Know what?" Logan said. "Figure next time I knock you down I'll take your head off. Figure that'll do the trick."

Creed paused. "You know somethin I don't?"

"There's a hole with no bottom," Logan muttered. The helicopter cleared the horizon, thudding up into the sky like a massive unwieldy locust, moving as fast as it could move.

With a loud clang, a bullet ricocheted off of Logan's skull; he flew through the air and slammed to the ground some distance away. Creed snarled at the chopper just as a bullet crashed into his head; he flipped, thudding down on his back. Another bullet smashed into his jaw; teeth flew.

Then the chopper hovered over the site, powerful floodlights illuminating the three bodies on the ground. Creed was dragging himself to his feet. Snipers lined up on him. He was thinking fast. He couldn't speak yet, but he raised his hands, palms out. Soldiers on ziplines skimmed down to the ground as the chopper lined up its minigun on Creed.

It was a short business to slap shackles on the three and haul them into the helicopter; in less than five minutes the edge of the wood was again quiet, with only disturbed snow and splotches of blood to show they had been there.

xXx

"Thought I wasn't a prisoner; came under my own steam," Logan said wryly to Bryant, who stood almost face to face with him. Logan flexed to test the shackles his hands and feet and waist were gripped by, but it was more reflex than curiosity. He knew this setup. He had tried its limits before and come up wanting.

"True enough," Bryant said with a smile. "But you didn't sign the paperwork for the release. This is a secret facility, you know."

"Usual fine for skipping paperwork a fifty caliber knock to the head?"

"A little thing like that between us, Logan, is just a little thing. No damage, really."

"I'll remember that," Logan said, flexing. "I'm glad you won't take offense. Should the opportunity arise."

"Enough of this," Bryant sighed. "Our program has a considerable investment in you, Logan. You chose not to work with us, and proved your resourcefulness in refusing to be controlled. We have little choice but to accept that. But you do owe us a lifetime of service, so we'll have to extract it in other ways. Not to mention the expense of the last facility on this site. Not much of it survived your rather melodramatic exit."

"Yeah," Logan grinned. "Keeps me warm at night, just thinkin about it."

"So it seems we're back to where we started. The charade of your cooperation is over, the girl is gone, and your charm has once again reached a record high. I've enjoyed this conversation. I suspect by this time tomorrow you'll be snarling and spitting like a cat; it won't be too long before we've stripped away all the civilization we managed to burn into you."

"Your civilization," Logan spat. "Torture is civilized?"

Bryant smiled as he stepped out of the room. "In the name of science, everything is civilized." He pushed the door control, and the thick bulkhead slid shut.

Logan sagged in his restraints. He felt the needles punch into his back, and he knew what it was; the nutrient flow.

"Don't get to lay down to sleep, don't get to chew when I eat… I hate this place," he muttered. He tried to shift his hands, but the shackle had clamps that locked the tips of his claws against the back of his wrists; try as he might, he could not unsheathe his claws while they were there. He sighed. "So this is it," he whispered to himself, and he leaned his head back.