Interlude: The "Little Girl"
The cold, night air cut through the heavy mist that clung to the ruined landscape, swirling around the remains of what had once been a quiet, unassuming bar on the outskirts of a small Canadian town. The moonlight bathed the wreckage in a silvery sheen, illuminating the jagged remnants of wood and twisted metal. A faint scent of spilled liquor mixed with the sharp tang of blood, carried on the wind.
In the center of the destruction stood two figures, locked in a violent, primal dance. Wolverine's claws—bloodied from previous strikes—glinted under the pale light as he and Sabretooth clashed with an intensity that could only come from years of hatred and rivalry. They were no strangers to each other, and every blow carried the weight of past conflicts.
Sabretooth grinned as he parried one of Wolverine's slashing attacks, the sound of claws scraping against claws ringing through the air. His wild eyes gleamed with a mixture of malice and amusement. "You still think you can put me down, Logan?" Sabretooth growled, his voice a low rumble, the excitement of battle making his words slur slightly. "I've been to hell and back more times than you've had hot meals, and I'm still standing." Wolverine snarled, eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his battered hat. "This ends tonight, Victor," he growled, his voice a guttural promise.
Sabretooth chuckled darkly, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. "You always say that, Logan. But you never finish the job. You never have the guts."
A vicious swipe from Wolverine sent Sabretooth stumbling back, but the large mutant quickly regained his balance. His claws, gleaming like curved blades, sliced through the air as he lunged forward once more, his attack more brutal this time. But even in the midst of their fierce battle, Sabretooth's mind was elsewhere—focused on something more... personal.
Smirking "You know, Logan," Sabretooth said casually, his tone almost mocking, as he dodged another blow. "I've been thinking. Maybe it's time I pay a visit to my little girl. It's been... what, a few years now? She's probably grown up quite a bit." Wolverine's eyes widened, a flicker of confusion and suspicion crossing his face as he fought to keep up with the relentless assault. "What the hell are you talking about?" he grunted, his voice tense. Sabretooth's grin widened, revealing his sharp, elongated teeth. "You wouldn't believe it, but I have a daughter now. Sylvia Creed. She's got a lot of potential, that one. In fact, I'm pretty sure she'll be just like her old man when she grows up. All that rage, all that power... she's perfect for what I need." Wolverine's breath caught in his throat as the words registered. Sylvia. His mind raced as he connected the dots, his gut tightening with the sickening realization. "Your daughter?" he repeated, a low growl escaping his lips. "What the hell are you planning, Creed?"
Sabretooth's eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he blocked another of Wolverine's blows, the two mutants circling each other like predators sizing up their prey. "Oh, nothing much, Logan. Just thought I'd drop by, see how she's doing. Maybe teach her a few tricks. Show her what it really means to embrace the chaos in this world."
His voice was dripping with disdain, but there was a spark of something darker in his eyes. "She's got her mother's softness, sure. But all she needs is a little... encouragement. A little nudge in the right direction. I could show her how to really make her mark on this world." Wolverine's fists clenched as fury built inside him. He knew better than to think for one second that Sabretooth's intentions were anything but dangerous. The man had never cared for anyone but himself—and the idea that he would drag his daughter into his world of violence made Wolverine's blood boil. "Stay the hell away from her, Creed," Wolverine snarled, his claws extended and ready for the next strike. "You've caused enough damage already. If you think you're going to twist her into one of your monsters, you've got another thing coming."
Sabretooth's laugh was dark and taunting, a sound that sent chills down Wolverine's spine. "Oh, I'm not twisting her, Logan. She's already got it in her. It's just a matter of unlocking it. A little push in the right direction... and she'll be just like me. Maybe even better." He took a step forward, his claws gleaming dangerously as he finally closed the distance between them. "But don't worry, Logan. I'm sure you'll be around to watch it all unfold. After all, what kind of father would I be if I didn't let you see my little girl's transformation firsthand?" Before Wolverine could respond, Sabretooth was on him, their claws clashing in a flurry of movement that sent splinters of wood flying into the air. The two mutants were a blur of savage energy, each blow carrying the weight of years of hatred, but in the back of Sabretooth's mind, one thought lingered.
He would visit her soon. Sylvia Creed was his, and whether she liked it or not, she would learn what it meant to carry the Creed name.