Hello everyone, welcome to my second story, I hope my fellow Shadow fans will like it - Kaiser
Shadow's eyes fluttered open, and a harsh chill immediately bit into his skin. He groaned, pushing himself up from the cold, snow-covered ground, his body shivering from the freezing temperature. All around him, tall, dark trees stood like silent sentinels, their branches heavy with snow. The air was frigid, each breath forming a cloud of mist that quickly dissipated. He looked around, disoriented, struggling to remember how he had ended up in such a desolate place.
The snow crunched beneath him as he rose to his feet, his head pounding with fractured memories. Echoes of battles—of facing off against a blue hedgehog and the dark presence of Black Doom—flashed through his mind, but they were disjointed, like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit together. He tried to shake off the confusion, but something felt wrong. His body felt... different.
Spotting a small, frozen stream nearby, Shadow stumbled over to it, peering down at the smooth surface of the ice. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. Staring back at him wasn't the familiar image of a black-furred hedgehog but a human with dark, disheveled hair and piercing red eyes. He recoiled, his heart pounding in his chest as he brought a trembling hand to his face, feeling the unfamiliar contours of human skin
Before he could fully process the shock, a voice slithered into his mind, cold and malevolent
"Shadow... do you hear me?"
The voice of Black Doom echoed through his thoughts, sending a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
"The pesky blue hedgehog defeated us... but our mission is far from over. We will make do with this different world, a world ripe for conquest."
Shadow's eyes narrowed as he tried to grasp what was happening.
"Where am I? What's happened to me?" he demanded, but his voice wavered with uncertainty.
"All in due time, Shadow. For now, your task remains the same. Prepare this world for the coming of the Black Arms. Fulfill your purpose, and you will learn everything you seek to know."
As the telepathic connection faded, leaving him alone in the stark, snowy silence of the Russian forest, Shadow clenched his fists, feeling the sting of the cold against his human skin. He didn't know what had happened to him or why, but he knew one thing—he couldn't trust Black Doom. Not fully. But if this world was truly different, then he needed to find out where he was, and quickly
Without another thought, Shadow took off, his speed cutting through the snow like a blade. Even in his human form, he retained a fraction of his superhuman abilities, allowing him to move with agility and swiftness. The forest blurred around him, the cold air biting at his face as he raced through the unfamiliar terrain, the snow crunching beneath his boots
He needed to find someone—anyone—who could help him make sense of this world, who could provide answers. As the forest began to thin, signs of civilization started to appear in the distance. The world felt foreign, yet somehow familiar in a way that made his skin crawl
Shadow was no longer in the world he knew
As Shadow sped through the snowy forest, the crisp air stinging his face, he caught the distant sound of voices over the wind. He didn't slow down, his instincts screaming that he needed to keep moving, but as the sounds grew louder, he realized they were coming from a group of men not far ahead
In the thickening snowfall, a squad of Russian soldiers emerged from the trees, clad in white camouflage uniforms that blended seamlessly with the snow. They were heavily armed, their rifles at the ready as they scanned the forest. When they caught sight of a figure moving impossibly fast between the trees, their voices rose in alarm.
"Мутант!" one of the soldiers shouted, pointing at Shadow as he darted past them.
The word meant nothing to Shadow, but the tone was unmistakable—he was being targeted. He stopped abruptly, skidding to a halt in the snow, and turned to face them. The soldiers immediately raised their weapons, barking orders at him in Russian. The language was unfamiliar, the words unintelligible, but the intent was clear: they wanted him to stop, to surrender
Shadow's eyes narrowed. He didn't have time for this. His mission was too important to be delayed by these soldiers. He took a cautious step forward, hoping to communicate that he wasn't a threat, but the soldiers only grew more agitated
"Огонь!" one of them commanded
The crack of gunfire shattered the stillness of the forest. Bullets whizzed past Shadow, some grazing his newly human skin, leaving stinging cuts. He gritted his teeth against the pain, his instincts kicking in. These men were dangerous, and they wouldn't stop until he was subdued—or worse
In a blur of motion, Shadow sprang into action. His speed was still remarkable, even in his altered form. He zigzagged through the trees, closing the distance between him and the soldiers in an instant. Before they could react, he struck with precise, calculated blows, disarming two soldiers and knocking them unconscious. The remaining soldiers tried to adjust their aim, but Shadow was already gone, moving too fast for their eyes to track
As more gunfire erupted, he sped through the snowy terrain, the world around him a blur. He could hear the shouts behind him, but they grew fainter with each passing second. Shadow's heart pounded as he pushed his new body to its limits, knowing he couldn't afford to get caught—or killed—in this unknown world
When he was certain he had left the soldiers far behind, he slowed down, coming to a stop at the edge of the forest. He took a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs, and looked back at the path he had carved through the snow. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen.
These people—whoever they were—thought he was something else. A mutant. And they weren't going to welcome him with open arms
But that didn't matter. Shadow had a mission to complete, and he couldn't let anyone stand in his way. With renewed determination, he turned his gaze forward, toward the distant lights of civilization flickering through the snow
He wasn't going to stop until he had the answers he sought—even if it meant tearing this world apart to get them
In the United States in New York
Logan leaned back in his chair, the dim light of the room casting shadows over his rugged face. He held a report in his hands, his eyes scanning the words with growing interest. The report detailed a recent incident in Russia—an encounter with a mutant who moved at incredible speeds, evading Russian soldiers in a remote forest. The description of the flurry of motion and the quick takedown of the soldiers caught Logan's attention.
*"Fast mutant, huh?"* Logan muttered to himself, tossing the report onto the cluttered desk. His first thought was Quicksilver. The speed, the evasion—it all pointed to Pietro. But something didn't add up. If it was Quicksilver, there would have been more damage, more chaos. Pietro didn't just run; he made a statement wherever he went.
Logan scratched at the stubble on his chin, his instincts telling him there was more to this than met the eye. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't Pietro's doing. This mutant, whoever it was, seemed more controlled, more precise. But why Russia? And why now?
He stood up, his mind made up to at least consider checking it out. But he hesitated. The last time he'd gone chasing after reports like this, it hadn't ended well. Yet the nagging suspicion that something was off wouldn't leave him alone. If this wasn't Pietro, then who—or what—was it?
Logan paced the room, the gears in his mind turning. He had to make a decision, but he couldn't shake the sense of unease. This wasn't just about a fast mutant causing trouble; there was something deeper at play here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on
### Meanwhile, back in Russia
Shadow crouched in the shadows of a narrow alleyway, his breath visible in the frigid air as he carefully scanned his surroundings. The city he had found himself in was on high alert, the streets crawling with police and military personnel. He had managed to slip into the city under the cover of darkness, but it hadn't taken long for him to realize that something was terribly wrong.
The tension in the air was palpable. The people moved quickly, heads down, as if afraid to attract attention. Shadow had overheard enough snippets of conversation to piece together what was going on—there had been reports of "mutant terrorism," and the authorities were on the hunt.
He had no idea what they were talking about, but he knew he couldn't afford to be caught. Every move he made was calculated, every step silent as he navigated the labyrinthine streets. He needed to stay hidden, at least until he could figure out his next move.
As he pressed himself against a wall, avoiding the gaze of a passing patrol, something caught his eye—a small, tattered book lying on the ground. He glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, before quickly snatching it up. The cover was worn, but the title was legible: Russian to English Phrasebook
It was a stroke of luck—perhaps the first since he had woken up in this strange new world. Shadow flipped through the pages, realizing that this book could be his key to understanding his surroundings, to blending in better.
He tucked the book into his jacket, his mind already racing with how he could use it to his advantage. But as he moved deeper into the city, his thoughts kept returning to the word he had heard so many times since arriving: mutant
Who were these mutants? And why did the mere mention of them send people into a panic? Shadow needed answers, and he needed them fast. But first, he had to find a safe place to lay low, at least until the heightened security died down.
Shadow finally found a secluded spot behind a row of abandoned crates in a dimly lit alley. The freezing wind howled through the narrow passage, but it was the best shelter he could find for now. The city outside remained tense, with the occasional sound of police sirens in the distance, but here, he was hidden—at least for the moment.
He leaned back against the cold, rough wall and pulled out the small phrasebook he had found. Flipping it open, he began to scan the pages, his red eyes flicking over the unfamiliar characters and translations. The language was foreign, but he quickly picked up on patterns, his sharp mind piecing together the basics.
As he read through the book, context began to filter through. The word "Russia" appeared frequently, and he began to understand that this was the name of the country he had found himself in. He had heard the term "Russia" before, somewhere deep in the fractured memories of another world, but it was hazy—like a dream he couldn't fully remember.
Further clues in the book pointed to a specific region: Siberia
He absorbed the information, realizing that this was the cold, desolate part of Russia, far from the warmer, more populated western regions. Shadow's eyes narrowed as he contemplated his next move. If he was in the eastern part of this massive country, it made sense to head west, toward more populated areas where he could gather information and potentially find a way out of this world—or at least figure out what had happened to him.
But as he closed the book, a sense of unease gnawed at him. What "was" this world he had found himself in? The more he learned, the more alien it seemed. There were no familiar landmarks, no sign of the world he once knew. The people spoke a language he didn't understand, and they were on high alert for beings called "mutants," something he had never encountered in his previous battles.
Shadow clenched his fists, his mind racing. If this world was truly as different as it seemed, then he was at a severe disadvantage. But that also meant the Black Arms might not have a foothold here, giving him a chance to prepare—to either stop them or fulfill whatever twisted destiny Black Doom had in mind. But first, he needed to survive.
With a determined look, Shadow stashed the phrasebook in his jacket and stepped out from his hiding spot, careful to remain unseen. The snow crunched softly under his boots as he began to move westward, his thoughts fixated on the unknown journey
Over the next few hours, Shadow studied the phrasebook intently, carefully memorizing key Russian words and phrases. The more he learned, the more he understood about his surroundings. He managed to pick up enough to grasp simple sentences, which could potentially help him avoid trouble or at least communicate his intentions. He was getting better at it, but the language was still challenging, and he knew he'd need more time to fully master it.
Unfortunately, time wasn't on his side.
As Shadow moved cautiously through the snow-covered streets, he noticed something odd—a faint buzzing sound in the air. He tensed, instinctively glancing around, and his sharp eyes caught sight of several small security drones hovering in the sky above. They were scanning the area, their sensors sweeping the ground below as they passed over the alley where he was hiding
The drones paused, and Shadow realized with a sinking feeling that they had spotted him. Before he could react, a red light on one of the drones blinked rapidly, and within moments, the faint sound of boots crunching through the snow echoed in the distance. Russian soldiers were on their way, drawn by the drones' alert.
Shadow cursed under his breath, his mind racing. He had to act fast.
The soldiers arrived in force, rifles at the ready as they surrounded the alleyway. Their harsh voices barked orders in Russian, some of which Shadow could now understand.
"Выходи с поднятыми руками!" one of them shouted. "Вы окружены!"
He recognized the words—something about coming out with his hands up. They were telling him to surrender. But surrender wasn't an option. Shadow stepped out from behind the crates, his hands raised slightly, trying to appear non-threatening as he attempted to piece together the right words.
"Я..." Shadow began, his voice rough with the cold, "я... пытаюсь... выйти."
The soldiers exchanged quick glances, their eyes narrowing. They didn't lower their weapons. One of them, apparently the leader, took a step forward, his expression suspicious.
"Западный террорист, так и знал!" the leader spat, his voice laced with contempt.
The words hit Shadow like a blow. He only understood bits and pieces, but it was enough—Western... terrorist. They thought he was some kind of enemy. His broken Russian hadn't convinced them of anything, and now they were going to attack.
Before he could say another word, the soldiers opened fire. Shadow's reflexes kicked in instantly. He dashed to the side, his speed carrying him out of the line of fire as bullets tore through the spot where he had just been standing. But the cold air, thick with snow, bit into his limbs, slowing him down more than he expected.
He couldn't stay and fight—not like this. His only option was to flee.
Shadow bolted, zooming westward through the city streets, weaving between buildings and dodging the incoming gunfire. The soldiers gave chase, but they were no match for his speed. However, the drones were a different story. They whirred to life, tracking his movements from above and coordinating with the ground forces. Their sensors locked onto him, sending out pulses that disrupted his path and forced him to change direction repeatedly.
The biting cold drained his energy, each breath becoming a painful struggle as he pushed his new body to its limits. He could feel himself slowing down, the relentless chill seeping into his muscles, making it harder to keep up his usual speed. The drones closed in, their mechanical wings slicing through the air as they gained on him.
Shadow's vision blurred as the exhaustion set in, his body on the verge of collapse. He couldn't keep this up much longer. He needed to get away—now.
In a last-ditch effort, Shadow concentrated what little energy he had left, his focus narrowing on a nearby warehouse. With a deep breath, he summoned his power, feeling the familiar surge of chaos energy coursing through him. In a flash, he teleported, disappearing from the soldiers' sights just as the drones closed in.
He reappeared inside the dimly lit warehouse, stumbling as he landed. The sudden teleportation drained him further, and he collapsed to one knee, gasping for air. He could hear the drones outside, their sensors searching for him, but they hadn't found him yet.
For now, he was safe. But the chase had taken a toll on him, and he knew he couldn't keep running forever. Shadow crawled to a corner of the warehouse, using what little strength he had left to conceal himself among the stacks of crates and debris.
As he lay there, his body shivering from the cold, he realized how dire his situation was. This world, this city—it was hostile, and he was being hunted. He needed a plan, and fast, but for now, all he could do was try to recover and hope that he had lost his pursuers for good.
But even as he closed his eyes, trying to regain some of his strength, the words of the Russian soldiers echoed in his mind: Western terrorist.
He was alone, in a world that saw him as an enemy, and the only thing he could rely on was his own determination to survive.
The cold seemed to fade into nothingness as Shadow's consciousness slipped away, lost in the darkness that enveloped him. His mind was pulled into a vortex of fragmented memories, flashing scenes from a past life he could barely grasp.
He saw the Space Colony Ark, a place that felt both familiar and distant. The sterile white halls, the hum of machinery, and the faces of people—scientists, soldiers—blurred together. But one image remained clear: a young girl with blonde hair and gentle eyes. Maria. Her voice echoed in his mind, though he couldn't make out the words.
Then the vision shifted violently. Shadow was back on the Ark, surrounded by chaos. Soldiers stormed the corridors, their weapons aimed at him, and Maria stood between them, her eyes wide with fear. The sound of gunfire rang in his ears as the world around him crumbled.
*BANG!*
Shadow jolted awake, his heart pounding. He was no longer in the freezing warehouse but on a cold metal table in an unfamiliar room. His breathing was ragged, his eyes darting around as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The vision of soldiers aiming their guns at him and Maria still haunted him, lingering in the back of his mind like a shadow.
He wasn't alone.
Several figures loomed over him, their eyes glowing with suspicion and curiosity. They were mutants, that much was clear. Their appearances were strange, their features distorted in ways that defied the usual human form. One of them, a man with a reptilian look, hissed through sharp teeth, "He's awake."
Shadow's mind was still in a fog, but the sight of these mutants stirred something primal within him—a deep-seated anger and a need to protect himself. His body reacted before his mind could catch up. With a sudden burst of speed and strength, he threw himself off the table, his feet landing on the ground in a crouch. The mutants tensed, readying themselves for a fight
"Who are you?!" Shadow demanded, his voice low and dangerous as he took a fighting stance. His hands curled into fists, ready to strike at the first sign of aggression.
The reptilian mutant bared his teeth, "We should be asking you that, stranger."
Another mutant, a bulky man with metal claws, growled, "Enough talk. Let's take him down before he tries anything funny."
The tension in the room was palpable, and in an instant, the fight erupted. Shadow moved like a blur, his speed and agility giving him the upper hand against the mutants. He dodged a swipe from the clawed mutant, countering with a powerful kick that sent the man crashing into a wall. The reptilian mutant lunged at him, but Shadow sidestepped, delivering a sharp blow to the creature's side
Despite being outnumbered, Shadow's combat skills and sheer determination gave him the edge. The mutants struggled to keep up with his relentless assault, and it became clear that they were no match for him
But just as Shadow was about to finish off one of his attackers, a deep, ominous voice echoed through the room, "That's enough."
The voice was commanding, carrying a weight that made Shadow pause mid-strike. He quickly scanned the room, searching for the source. The mutants, too, stopped in their tracks, their expressions shifting from hostility to something resembling fear or reverence
Out of the shadows at the far end of the room, a tall figure emerged. He was dressed in a dark, ornate outfit, his skin pale and his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intelligence. Shadow's instincts told him this man was dangerous, but there was something more—a sense of control that radiated from him
"Amusing as it is to watch you tear my associates apart," the man said with a faint, almost mocking smile, "I believe it's time we had a proper introduction."
Shadow remained on guard, his eyes narrowing as he studied the man. "Who are you? And where am I?"
The man stepped closer, his smile never wavering. "You may call me Mr. Sinister. And as for where you are, let's just say... you're among friends now." His voice dripped with a false sense of camaraderie that set Shadow on edge
Shadow's eyes narrowed, his muscles still tense as he faced Mr. Sinister. "….I'm leaving."
He turned, ready to bolt for the nearest exit, when Mr. Sinister's voice cut through the air, smooth and chilling. "But you want to learn about your past, don't you?"
Shadow stopped dead in his tracks. Those words struck a nerve, causing the haze of anger in his mind to waver. Slowly, he turned back to face Mr. Sinister, his expression a mix of suspicion and curiosity. "!?"
Mr. Sinister's smile widened, the corners of his mouth curling up in a way that made Shadow's skin crawl. "Oh, I know more than you might think. But knowledge, especially the kind you seek, comes at a price."
Shadow's fists clenched. He had spent so much of his life chasing the truth, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. The thought that this man—this strange, unnerving figure—held the answers he sought was almost unbearable. But he wasn't about to be manipulated. "Why should I listen to you?"
Mr. Sinister's eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Because I know of a certain... 'figure' from your past. Someone who promised you power and answers—someone you might recall as Black Doom."
Shadow's blood ran cold. The mention of Black Doom, a name only he and a few others knew, sent a shock through his system. How did this man know about the alien overlord who had once sought to use Shadow for his own dark purposes? His heart pounded as he struggled to maintain his composure. "How do you know that name?"
"Let's just say I have my sources," Mr. Sinister replied, his tone dripping with a twisted sort of satisfaction. "And I can provide you with the answers you crave, the purpose you seek. But in return, I will require a favor. A task, if you will, to prove your loyalty."
Shadow's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. This was all too convenient, too perfect of a setup. And yet, the lure of answers—of finally understanding who he was and what his purpose in this world was—was almost too strong to resist. But he couldn't let himself be pulled in so easily. "And if I refuse?"
Mr. Sinister's smile faded only slightly, replaced by a look of mild amusement. He waved his hand, and a swirling portal of darkness appeared behind him, crackling with eerie energy. "You are free to leave, of course. But know this—the X-Men cannot help you, even if they try. They won't understand you, not like I do."
Shadow remained silent, the weight of the decision bearing down on him. His instincts screamed at him not to trust this man, but his desire for answers was overwhelming. He hesitated, glancing at the portal. The world he had found himself in was strange and hostile, and if he was going to survive and learn the truth, he might need to take risks he wasn't comfortable with
"Think about it, Shadow," Mr. Sinister said, his voice soft but insistent. "When the time comes, you'll know what to do. And when you decide to take up my offer, you'll have the answers you seek."
Shadow's gaze flicked back to Mr. Sinister, his eyes hardening with resolve. He didn't trust this man—not for a second. But he couldn't deny the pull of the unknown, the chance to finally uncover the mysteries of his past
Reluctantly, he nodded. "I'll play along for now. But if you betray me—"
"You'll find that I'm not so easily crossed," Mr. Sinister interrupted, his smile returning. "Now, go. You'll find your next steps on the other side."
With one last wary glance at Mr. Sinister, Shadow stepped through the portal, the darkness swallowing him whole.
When he emerged on the other side, he found himself in a bustling cityscape, the skyline dotted with towering buildings. The streets were filled with people, the sounds of cars honking and voices blending into a chaotic symphony. Shadow looked around, recognizing elements of a human city, yet it felt different—off, in some unidentifiable way.
The bustling noise of the city had faded into the background as Shadow navigated the unfamiliar streets. He was still trying to make sense of this world when a sudden, distant commotion caught his attention. The sounds of metal clashing, followed by the distinct roar of a machine, echoed through the air. Shadow's sharp eyes darted toward the source, his instincts taking over.
High above the city, a woman in a white, hooded suit was swinging between the skyscrapers with remarkable agility. She was engaged in a fierce battle with a massive sentinel bot, which had clearly gone out of control. The sentinel's laser blasts illuminated the darkened sky as it relentlessly pursued the woman, who dodged and countered with web shots. But in the heat of the battle, she was hit by a powerful blast, sending her tumbling through the air, helplessly falling towards the streets below.
Without a second thought, Shadow zoomed across the street, blurring through the crowds like a dark phantom. In the blink of an eye, he leaped into the air and caught the falling woman in his arms, just before she could crash onto the pavement.
Shadow landed gracefully on the ground, holding her securely. Ghost Spider, momentarily stunned, looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. She had been saved by this mysterious figure—his sharp, determined features and intense crimson eyes gave him an almost otherworldly aura.
"Who…?" she started, but Shadow was already on the move.
He set her down gently before turning his attention to the sentinel bot, which had recalibrated and was now targeting him. Shadow's eyes narrowed as his fists in to glow a red aura, flinging red bolts of energy toward the machine. The spears struck true, piercing the sentinel's metal shell and causing sparks to fly.
The bot staggered, its systems malfunctioning as it struggled to stay upright. Shadow didn't waste any time—he launched himself at the sentinel, delivering a devastating punch that shattered its head clean off. The metal giant crumpled to the ground, defeated
Ghost Spider, still recovering from the shock, quickly got to her feet, ready to thank her unexpected savior. But before she could even take a step towards him, Shadow had already zoomed away, disappearing into the cityscape like a shadow in the night.
"Who was that…?" Ghost Spider murmured to herself, bewildered and slightly breathless from the encounter
Meanwhile, miles away at the Xavier Institute, Charles Xavier sat in deep concentration. His mind had picked up on something unusual—a new presence, one that carried an immense, unfamiliar power. Focusing his thoughts, he pinpointed the location: New York City.
"There's a new mutant in New York," Charles said, his voice calm but laced with concern. "I've never sensed anything like him before. He's powerful… but there's something different about him."
In the war room, the X-Men gathered around as Beast brought up footage on a monitor. The video showed Shadow's encounter with the rogue sentinel, highlighting his Chaos Spear attack and the devastating punch that destroyed the bot.
"Impressive," Beast remarked, analyzing the footage. "Whoever he is, he's not to be taken lightly."
"Should we bring him in?" Cyclops asked, his tone serious. "If he's that strong, we need to know whether he's friend or foe."
Charles nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Indeed. We need to find out more about him. For now, observe his actions and report back. We'll decide the best course of action once we know more."
The X-Men exchanged glances, aware of the potential threat this new mutant posed. But they also knew that whoever he was, he could be an invaluable ally—or a dangerous enemy
In the war room of the Xavier Institute, Logan stood up, a look of determination on his face as he cracked his knuckles. "I'll go grab him," he stated, already preparing to head out.
Rogue, leaning casually against the wall, smirked and straightened up. "I'm coming with you," she said, flipping her hair back. "A cute boy like that deserves some eye candy to be convinced, don't ya think?"
Logan rolled his eyes, giving her a pointed look. "Just don't mess things up, Rogue. We're trying to bring him in, not scare him off."
Rogue laughed lightly, but there was a hint of sincerity in her tone. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll behave… mostly."
Meanwhile, in a dim alleyway of New York City, Shadow leaned against a cold brick wall. The chaos of the city echoed around him, but his mind was elsewhere. He pulled out the small Russian-to-English book he had found earlier, thumbing through its pages
"What kind of place is this…?" Shadow murmured to himself, his crimson eyes scanning the alleyway as he tucked the book back into his jacket
Just then, a group of thugs swaggered into the alley, their sneers visible even in the dim light. The leader of the group, a bulky man with a scar across his cheek, eyed Shadow suspiciously. "Hey, you! You some kind of mutant?" he barked
Shadow didn't even bother to look up at them. "Mind your own business," he replied coolly, pushing away from the wall
The leader's face twisted into a scowl. "We don't take kindly to mutants around here," he growled, cracking his knuckles as the others circled around Shadow
Shadow's gaze turned steely as he fixed the leader with a cold stare. "Is that what you really want?" he asked, his tone dangerously calm.
The thugs hesitated for a split second, but their arrogance got the better of them. They lunged at Shadow, fists swinging, but they were no match for him. With barely any effort, Shadow moved like a blur, dodging their attacks and countering with precise, devastating blows. Within moments, the gang was lying on the ground, groaning in pain
Shadow stood over them, his expression unreadable. "If you dare cross me again, I won't be so nice," he warned, his voice low and threatening
Before he could leave the alley, a gruff voice cut through the tension. "You should come with me."
Shadow turned to see a man with wild hair, dressed in a leather jacket, stepping into the alley. His gaze was fierce, and his presence radiated power. It was Wolverine.
"Why should I listen to you?" Shadow asked, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the newcomer.
Wolverine's claws extended with a sharp *snikt*, his gaze never wavering. "If you know what's good for you, you would."
Shadow bristled at Wolverine's tone. "Nobody tells me what to do," he snapped, his hand crackling with energy as he prepared for a fight.
Without another word, the two charged at each other. Shadow was quick, his movements a blur, but Wolverine was faster than anyone Shadow had faced so far. Each strike Wolverine made was calculated, his adamantium claws clashing with Shadow's Chaos-infused strikes. The two were evenly matched, their skills pushing each other to the limit
Just as Shadow was about to land a decisive blow, a voice called out, breaking the tension. "Both of ya, stop!"
Rogue swooped in, landing gracefully between them. Her eyes flicked from Wolverine to Shadow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Now, what's the point of fighting when we could be friends, sugar?"
Shadow prepared to zoom away, unwilling to engage further, but before he could, he found himself surrounded by more figures emerging from the shadows—the rest of the X-Men. Cyclops, Storm, and Nightcrawler formed a circle around him, cutting off his escape.
"You're not going anywhere," Cyclops said, his visor glowing ominously.
Shadow's eyes darted around, weighing his options. The situation had escalated faster than he expected, but he wasn't one to back down easily. Tension hung thick in the air as both sides awaited the next move.
As the tension in the alley thickened, Shadow's eyes narrowed. He wasn't going down without a fight. Without warning, he lashed out at the X-Men, his movements a blur as he struck first at Cyclops, then at Nightcrawler, keeping them on the defensive.
Cyclops fired a concussive blast, but Shadow dodged it effortlessly, closing the distance and landing a powerful kick that sent Cyclops stumbling backward. Storm tried to create a gust of wind to throw Shadow off balance, but he countered with a Chaos Spear, disrupting the wind and forcing her to back off.
Nightcrawler teleported behind Shadow, aiming to catch him off guard, but Shadow anticipated the move and spun around, delivering a swift punch that sent Nightcrawler reeling.
The fight was fast and furious, with the X-Men struggling to keep up with Shadow's speed and precision. But just as Shadow was about to gain the upper hand, his mind was suddenly assaulted by a powerful psychic force. Jean Grey, standing off to the side, had entered his mind, sending a wave of mental pain crashing over him.
Shadow dropped to his knees, clutching his head in agony. The world around him spun, and he fought to stay conscious, his vision blurring as he struggled to resist the mental attack. He looked up through the haze to see Rogue walking toward him, a sly grin on her face.
She knelt down beside him, gently placing her hand on his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Now, sugar," she said in a soft, almost teasing tone, "why don't you just behave, hmm?"
Shadow gritted his teeth, glaring at her through the pain. With a reluctant sigh, he rolled his eyes in resignation.
Rogue giggled, clearly amused by his reaction. "Aw, you're cute when you're mad," she teased, giving his chin a playful tap before standing up.
Wolverine, who had been watching the exchange with a hint of annoyance, crossed his arms. "I had it handled," he grumbled, not entirely pleased that Jean had stepped in.
Jean, her expression lightening, gave Wolverine a knowing look. "Oh, you totally did," she said with a smirk. But then her gaze shifted back to Shadow, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "I'm surprised he's not unconscious… he's strong."
With the fight over, the X-Men quickly moved to secure Shadow. He was brought to the X-Jet, his wrists bound with energy restraints that pulsed with a soft, blue light. Shadow remained silent as they guided him aboard, his mind still reeling from the psychic attack but already beginning to recover.
As the jet took off, the hum of the engines filled the cabin. Shadow, now seated with the X-Men around him, finally broke the silence. "Where are you taking me?"
Cyclops, who was sitting across from him, met his gaze with a steady look. "We're going to the X-Mansion. Professor Xavier wants to talk to you."
Shadow's expression remained unreadable as he processed this information. The X-Mansion… he had no idea what that was, but he could sense that whoever this Professor Xavier was, he held a lot of power. As the jet soared through the sky, Shadow stared out the window, his mind already racing with thoughts of escape, even as he began to piece together a new plan.
As the X-Jet flew through the skies Shadow stared out the window, his mind churning with thoughts of escape, strategies, and potential allies—or enemies—among these so-called X-Men. The world he had found himself in was unlike anything he had ever encountered, and the idea of being confined or controlled was something he couldn't tolerate
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Rogue plopped down in the seat beside him. Her presence was immediately apparent as she leaned in closer, her shoulder brushing against his. Shadow tensed slightly, his sharp instincts already assessing whether this was some kind of subtle tactic to lower his guard.
"So, what's your name?" Rogue's voice was soft, almost teasing, but there was a genuine curiosity there too. Her Southern drawl gave her words a warmth that contrasted with the cold, sterile atmosphere inside the jet.
Shadow turned his head slightly to look at her, his expression as stoic as ever. "Shadow…" he replied, his voice low and guarded. He wasn't used to this kind of small talk, especially not after a fight.
Rogue, however, wasn't deterred. She smiled, a playful glint in her eyes as she leaned in a bit closer, her proximity both disarming and intriguing. "We mean your real name, sugar," she said with a wink, reaching out to boop his nose lightly with her gloved finger.
Shadow blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. He had to remind himself that this was just another tactic, perhaps an attempt to make him feel at ease or to extract more information from him. Still, there was something disarming about her—something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
But Shadow wasn't one to be caught off guard for long. Realizing that revealing too much about himself could be dangerous, he decided to play along, if only to keep her from digging deeper. He quickly came up with a name, one that he could use as a cover in this strange new world.
"…Jason…" he said after a brief pause, his tone even, giving nothing away. (wink wink wink wink)
"Jason…" Rogue repeated, drawing out the name as if testing how it felt on her tongue. She tilted her head, clearly expecting more. "And your last name, sugar?" she prompted, her smile widening as she caught the way he seemed to hesitate.
Shadow knew he couldn't let this slip-up lead to more questions. He needed to keep the lie consistent, at least until he figured out what was really going on. "Thornton," he added, the name rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. (WINK WINK WINK WI- I'll stop)
Rogue's eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned back in her seat, clearly pleased with the answer. "Well, well, Jason Thornton," she said with a grin. "It's nice to finally get your name after a fight. Most boys don't even bother." She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow, her tone lighthearted.
Shadow responded with a deadpan expression, his face an unreadable mask. "I'm not most boys," he replied flatly, though there was a slight edge to his voice that hinted at his frustration with the situation. Despite his irritation, he couldn't help but notice how easily she had managed to get under his skin. It was both infuriating and strangely compelling.
Rogue chuckled softly at his response, clearly enjoying their little exchange. "You're somethin' else, Jason," she said with a grin, clearly not buying into his aloof act. "I'm Anna Marie, by the way. But most folks just call me Rogue." Her voice was softening, revealing a bit more of her genuine self behind the teasing.
Shadow kept his gaze steady on her, his expression still guarded. The name meant little to him, but he filed it away along with everything else he had learned in the past hour. "Nice to meet you, Rogue," he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.
Meanwhile, across the aisle, Wolverine watched the exchange with a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head slightly. "God, this woman is at it again," he muttered under his breath, though there was a trace of fondness in his voice.
Jean, seated next to Wolverine, couldn't help but smirk at the situation. "She does have a way with people," Jean remarked quietly, her telepathic senses picking up on Shadow's internal struggle. She could tell that he wasn't just a simple mutant—there was something far more complex going on beneath the surface. But for now, she kept her observations to herself, trusting that the Professor would get to the bottom of it once they were back at the mansion.
As the X-Jet began its descent, the sprawling grounds of the X-Mansion came into view. The estate was vast, with manicured lawns, dense forests, and the imposing structure of the mansion itself looming in the distance. Shadow's sharp eyes took in every detail, his mind already calculating potential escape routes and assessing the security of the place.
But for now, he knew he had to play along. Until he could fully understand where he was, what these people wanted, and how he could use them to achieve his own goals, cooperation was his best option. Even if it meant enduring Rogue's relentless charm.
As the jet touched down, Rogue stood up and offered Shadow a hand, her smile as warm as ever. "Welcome to the X-Mansion, Jason," she said, clearly enjoying the fact that she had gotten under his skin. "Hope you're ready for what comes next."
Shadow ignored her hand and stood up on his own, his expression still unreadable. "I'm always ready," he replied coolly, stepping past her to follow the others out of the jet.
Rogue just chuckled to herself as she watched him go, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "This one's gonna be fun," she murmured, already looking forward to seeing how the newcomer would handle life at the mansion.
As they all disembarked, Shadow couldn't help but feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. He had no idea what awaited him inside the walls of the X-Mansion, but one thing was certain—he wouldn't let anyone stand in his way. Not the X-Men, not Mr. Sinister, and certainly not the mysterious past that still haunted his memories.
As they approached the mansion, Shadow glanced back at Rogue, who winked at him playfully. He didn't return the gesture, but he couldn't deny that something about this place—and these people—was beginning to intrigue him, even if he would never admit it. For now, he would see where this path led him. But if anyone tried to control him, they would quickly learn just how dangerous he could be.
If you have gotten this far, Thank you so much. It means alot :D, and until next time - Kaiser