Still in past 45years pov
"Why are you asking me all this?" I asked the Ancient One.
He smiled and said lightly, "Your future was obscure to me, and I grew curious. At first, I could see exactly what you were, where you came from, and everything you would do tomorrow. But now, I cannot see beyond what your immediate surroundings permit. I can make vague guesses about what might happen, but I can no longer see the full picture."
"Okay, and what does that have to do with any of this?" I kept my voice flat. I didn't want to speak with him anymore, I was already worried that one slip of the tongue would give him more information than I'd already let out.
As an engineer, I knew that even a fragmented data packet could be used to reconstruct a file if the listener was smart enough. And this monk? He was the smartest 'operating system' I'd ever run into. I needed to close the connection before he found a backdoor into the secrets I was still carrying from the future.
"Well, I came to help," he said. "I saw in one of the possible futures that you wanted to learn the arts of the mind, and I wanted to get to know you. That is all."
He let out a little laugh, a warm, jolly sound like Santa Claus, but to me, it felt like this old monk was just finding new ways to torture me.
"Fine. Lead the way. Let's just get this over with." I gave up. I slumped my shoulders, the last of the adrenaline from the Fifth Gate leaving me feeling like an old, rusted machine.
This old man was going to be the death of me, if not from his mystic power, then from the sheer exhaustion of trying to keep up with his circular logic. Following a laughing monk into a portal to other space and time already weird me enough, as the old monk wave his hand in circular motion to open a portal, yeah i gave up.
*****
the foundation of Kamar-Taj's "mind defense" is the surrender of the ego. The Ancient One teaches that a sorcerer must "quiet the mind" to harness energy. By mastering their own thoughts and emotions, students become less vulnerable to external mental influence or manipulation.
And I am here to learn just about that. I don't do sorcery. Learning it is one thing, but using it? Nah. I made it clear where the line was drawn, I was an engineer, a man of hardware and physics.
I'd seen in the comics what "magic" did to people, how it twisted reality until you couldn't tell what was real anymore. I was willing to study the schematics of the mind and understand the "code" the Ancient One was talking about, but I wasn't going to start waving my hands around and chanting. I wanted a firewall, not a wand.
Because I don't need it. A singular focus that's been continuously tempered is more dangerous than being a jack-of-all-trades. I understand this subject because of my obsession with computers and motherboards, that alone consumed my entire adult life in my previous world.
While my intellect was enough to claim I was a genius, I wasn't arrogant enough to say I was the smartest. I know this world, that's why my view and my path for how to live in it were set the moment I followed Victor from my house fifty years ago.
When the Ancient One asked if I wanted to learn sorcery, I flat out refused without missing a beat. When I said that, his face brightened, and he gave me a small smile and a little laugh.
I reckon he could see that I don't really need all of this to survive. And he knows about Romulus, I'm a hundred percent sure he knows. For this being to call himself 'The Ancient One' and claim not to know about Romulus? I'd say that's a hundred percent bullshit.
That's why he was so willing to let me learn his sorcery. I can surmise it's not really that he wants to 'get to know me.' He could just watch me from the Mirror Dimension to know what I do, what I eat, even when I shower. Being called the strongest sorcerer is apt for him, especially with his thousands of years of experience.
5 years later
"Master, I'm curious. Why help me?" I asked the Ancient One. "You could just watch me in the mirror dimension, see how i do".
We stood at the very edge of the mountain, looking out over the vast, jagged peaks of the Himalayas. Despite my skepticism, I found myself calling him "Master" a title that felt right. I had nothing but respect for this old monk.
The Ancient One stands perfectly still. In the world of high-level intellects, there is no use for pretty lies.
"You see the surveillance, but you miss the intent, James," he says, his voice softening into a grandfatherly tone, warm and patient despite the gravity of his words. "Sure, I could track your every move or time your pulse, but what's the fun in that? Watching a man walk isn't the same as knowing where his heart is heading. I gave you those 'Arts' as a test, to see if you still had a bit of spark left in you". "to see if you still possessed your own purpose or if you had become nothing more than a blade that only destroys."
"You chose to remain yourself, James. You chose to keep your spirit untainted by power you didn't earn, A weapon with a genius mind is a threat to the world. A man with a mission... is a solution."
He pauses, his gaze drifting to the open horizon. "But you know as well as I do, James, you came here to learn on your own terms. And you could have walked out of those doors at any moment you pleased. I am merely the one who held the mirror while you decided who you wanted to be."
There was a comfortable silence between.
"Master, I bid you farewell," I say with the reverence of a student. "I have nothing but gratitude for your patience with me."
"Live well, James. I want to see what you create more than what you destroy, a man who hides his fangs is far more dangerous than one who bares them." The Ancient One walks back into the Kamar-Taj monastery with ease, knowing I would never use his arts for evil.
A single tear nearly escaped my eyes. When we first met, I was nothing but aggression yet, even now, he holds no grudge against me. He continues to show me kindness, despite the many times I have been rude to him. With one final bow, I turn and walk away from the monastery.
*****
For two years, I have been walking from Tibet to America just to return home. My daily routine was the road, every night, I found my sleep in the heart of the forest.
While on my journey, I never stopped training instead, I intensified it a hundredfold. I continued my 'Saitama' regimen, but the intensity was on a different level. When I did sit-ups, I would seek out the heaviest rock I could lift to use as a weight. That rock became my training partner for the rest of my journey.
I avoided the main roads, sticking to the forest to hide my activities. I was truly grateful for the preparations I made before starting my journey especially the map I had secured, even though it was expensive.
From the very first day I left Kamar-Taj, I have been training nonstop. I only stop to eat, sleep, and shower, other than that, every moment is dedicated to my practice. I even use a massive stone as my constant training partner.
With my high IQ and photographic memory now enhanced by Kamar-Taj's mental disciplines, it is safe to say I no longer forget anything. Even if a piece of information is buried deep within the obscure corners of my mind, I can use these arts to focus and retrieve it. By combining this mental fortitude with my martial arts, I no longer need endless repetition, I simply watch, learn, and then refine the art to perfection.
With several martial arts already under my belt, I began to relearn everything from the very beginning. One by one, I refined each technique continuously. While this might seem tedious to someone without the proper drive, the thought of future threats makes me more than willing to put in the work.
I have always trained my fists just as Garp did. All I do now is punch the stone. By this point, I've learned to control my healing factor: I stop my hands from healing until they are bloodied and broken, and only then do I let the ability do its work. The beauty of the Wolverine healing factor is that while it repairs the damage, it doesn't change the results, I still grow stronger the more I train. I've become intoxicated with the thrill of the grind.
I've lost track of how many stones I've destroyed by now. With each passing mile, the rocks I choose keep getting larger and larger, by the time I reached the forests of Arizona, they were massive.
One day while I was training, I spotted a small wolf cub a cute little thing. His leg had been gashed by something, he was bleeding and whining as he searched for his mother. I approached him slowly, fearing he might hurt himself further if he tried to run. I eventually picked him up and brought him back to my tent to tend to his wounds.
If you were to ask if I had formal medical training, the answer would be no. However, I've picked up bits of knowledge here and there during my travels. I know the properties of various plants and herbs, while my mental encyclopedia of medicine might not be complete, the things I learned during the war and my journey to the East have taught me more than enough to help.
"What a good boy," I said while tending to the cub. It felt as though he understood every word I spoke to him.
I heard a rustling sound in the brush nearby. The air filled with the scent of wet fur, the same scent as the cub's. I called out into the shadows, "Hey, come here. Your baby is hurt."
To my surprise, the wolf began walking toward me. She was cautious, but her reaction made it seem like she understood exactly what I had said. I started to get weirded out... can I talk to animals? Have I become Dr. Dolittle?
When the wolf saw that I was tending to her baby, she began to relax. I felt a strange sensation, as if she were thanking me for saving her cub, and I understood her. It was unsettling, but I decided to let it be for now, it wasn't the most important thing at the moment.
And just like that, we stayed there for a week. I kept up with my usual training routine while the wolf watched me. Sometimes she would head out to hunt for food, other times, she simply stayed behind to tend to her cub.
The next day, when the cub was strong enough to walk, its mother seemed to be asking me to follow her. I didn't sense any intent to hurt me, nor did I feel like she was leading me into a trap to be served on a platter to her pack.
She led me to a place that looked like a shrine or a burial ground. I couldn't read any of the inscriptions because ancient languages are not my expertise. As we kept walking, the mother wolf nudged me toward the entrance of the shrine. Since I felt no evil intent, I chose to trust her and my own instincts.
As I stepped inside the shrine, something manifested before me. It looked like a spirit, yet felt like something more. Then, the entity spoke: "Son of Logan, I have been waiting for you".
I was already poised to dash out of the shrine the moment the spirit manifested, but when he spoke my original family name, I was completely frozen in shock.
You might wonder how I know my original family name. It's because I was a fan of Marvel's Wolverine. Did you guys miss the part where I mentioned being a huge fan?
Whoops, did I just break the fourth wall?, Well forget it, i have more pressing matter to do right now.
"How do you know me, sir?"
I made sure to be respectful. After all, if he turns out to be significantly stronger than me, I'd rather not be the first one to die. Even with my training and my healing factor, I'm not looking to pick a fight with a mysterious entity in an ancient shrine.
"I've always been watching for anything feral, whether it be human, animal, or something else entirely. I know," he continued. "I am Owayodata, son of the Native American gods, born to Wiininwaa and E-bangishimog. I am a Manidoog of the hunt. You, Son of Logan, are standing in the shrine of my first avatar, Wildrun."
When he proclaimed his name, I looked closely at his form. He had the powerful, muscular body of a man, but the head of a wolf. I remembered reading about this spirit in the comics, while he isn't the most popular character, he's known as a benevolent spirit who chooses avatars to protect humanity.
"I want you, Son of Logan, to be my Champion of the Hunt."
I was completely stunned. Who would have thought that after becoming a Wolverine, I would be chosen as an avatar for a spirit of benevolence like this? This has never happened to any Wolverine I know of and as far as I'm concerned, if I haven't heard of it, it doesn't exist in the lore.
"Me, sir? Why?" I was completely incredulous. Everything happening in this shrine felt like a fever dream. Here I was, a man with the powers of Wolverine, trained in the mystic arts of Kamar-Taj, being asked by a wolf-headed deity to be his champion. My mind, the same mind I've trained to be a perfect library of information was racing to find a reason why I was the one he had been waiting for.
"You, someone of power, saved my grandson and tended to his health. That alone makes you a worthy candidate." He spoke this as if it were an undeniable fact. Even though I knew he was aware of my name and my history, I still didn't feel like I truly deserved this kind of power.
"That is why I pick you as my champion, child."
Wait, did he just read my mind? I had already fortified it with the mystic arts I learned at Kamar-Taj, but he bypassed those defenses like they weren't even there.
"Yes, I am reading your mind," he added calmly.
I just stood there, my mind going completely blank. I didn't know what to say. My mental fortifications, the ones I had spent so much time perfecting to keep my secrets safe, had been peeled back like paper by this wolf-headed spirit.
"Then why the hell did I learn magic to fortify my mind at all if it's still being read?" I thought, frustration bubbling up.
Almost instantly, I heard a reply from the Spirit of the Hunt. "It is not that your magic shields did not work," Owayodata said, clearly amused by my internal tantrum. "It is simply that you are in my territory now. Within these walls, I override all other powers."
I let out a long sigh of relief. So, I hadn't actually wasted my time at Kamar-Taj after all.
"Yes, you did not," he replied once again, his voice echoing in my mind.
"Can you stop doing that? It's starting to get creepy in here," I said, my body trembling as I thought about it.
"Are you, Son of Logan, willing to be my champion?" he asked me again.
"What would I need to do to be your champion?" I countered. "If it involves killing innocent people, then the answer is no."
"You realize that I am a god of the hunt, not murder, right?" Well, I definitely didn't expect him to reply like that. His tone had a bit of a dry edge to it, almost like he was offended that I'd lumped him in with some of the more bloodthirsty deities out there.
"Well, sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You said I saved your grandchild and everything, but I'm still sitting here thinking... why me?"
I really felt weird about the whole thing. I wanted to be absolutely certain that this moment wasn't just a lapse in judgment on my part. I've lived a long time, and I know that making a deal with a powerful entity while you're emotional or confused is usually how the worst stories begin.
"You were chosen by me not because of your power, Son of Logan. There are many beings out there far more powerful than you. I chose you because you showed compassion to those weaker than yourself. That is much harder to control, especially because I know what you truly are."
His words were really starting to convince me to accept.
"Okay, sir. I accept."
I wasn't just excited because of the raw power it would grant me. The real thrill was knowing that by becoming his champion, I finally had a powerful "backer." In a world full of cosmic threats and ancient evils, having a god like Owayodata in my corner meant I wouldn't have to face the meaner, stronger enemies of the future alone.
I noticed Owayodata giving me the "stink eye" or at least the wolf-headed equivalent of one. He clearly knew exactly what I was thinking about using him as a supernatural insurance policy. I immediately put on my best innocent face, acting as if my mind was a total blank and I hadn't been calculating the tactical advantages of our new partnership.
"go take the garb and the coup stick" he told me to go Inside the burial site is a tomb that contains the sacred ceremonial garb and the "Coup Stick" (the totem of power).
I wore the garb and held the staff as he asked me to kneel before him. He then proclaimed, "I, Owayodata, God of the Hunt, name you my champion".
I closed my eyes and felt a surge of power, sensing a deep connection with Owayodata. It felt as though we could now converse anywhere at any time. My senses became more attuned to nature, and suddenly, I realized I was alone in the cave. He had vanished immediately after his proclamation. With everything finally settled, I removed the garb and returned the staff to its original place.
As I emerged from the shrine, my senses flared. I could smell everything in my environment at once. Though it was difficult to concentrate and control this heightened sense of smell, I reminded myself of my long years of training. If I gained this power and still couldn't master it, I might as well go to sleep and wait to die.
With that, I went to my camp and packed everything, ready to start my journey home. As I was walking, I heard a howl from behind me. I knew exactly who it was. With a smile, I continued walking toward my next destination.
*****
Logan pov future
I sat on the floor meditating, having worked on my memory palace for forty-five years. I wasn't seeking perfection, instead, I was building something even a telepath would fear to enter, a mental maze within my head. A wave of nostalgia hit me as I remembered how I met my powerful backer. Suddenly, I felt something smack my head, and I simply smiled. I knew exactly who it was.
Owayodata still hates it when I call him my 'powerful backer,' even though it is the truth, he is my benefactor. To this day, I have never stopped training. I might seem lazy to everyone else at the camp, but they don't realize that I can no longer train like a normal human. Now, I finally have someone who can. A devilish smile spread across my face.
At that moment, the hair on Steve's neck stood up, he felt a sudden, chilling certainty that something terrible was about to happen to him.'
I could already predict that by the time Victor and I met again, Romulus would be coming for me. It might not be at that exact moment, but I was certain he'd show his face once I was picked for the Weapon X program.
I know Romulus is the type of man who makes plans and controls them, even if those plans span centuries. He won't let go until he sees the result. Ultimately, all he wants is a perfect specimen for his so-called successor. Too bad for him, I have someone to rely on now, too. If he can't control me, I'm sure he'll try to make me suffer a fate far worse than death. To him, something he can't manipulate is better off erased than left out in the open. That's just how arrogant and manipulative he is.
****
The next day
I was outside, sitting cross-legged under a tree and meditating. I heard someone walking toward me, and though I didn't open my eyes, I knew exactly who it was. "Bub, how can I help?" I asked. Steve was shocked. He asked, "How did you know it was me?"
I had forgotten to mention my heightened sense of smell to him, but it didn't matter. "Well, no one disturbs me other than the soldiers who come to tell me Colonel Philip is looking for me", I said. "No one else ever comes out here, so I knew it was you".
"I came to ask you for a spar, James. Can you teach me?" Steve certainly knew the basics of boxing and some SSR fighting styles, but he was far from the master he would one day become. Since leaving the lab, not even three or four months had passed.
"Okay, I'll teach you. Come on, attack me," I ordered.
Steve hesitated. "But you haven't even stood up, James."
Steve was a good man, after all. Even now, he hadn't learned to fight dirty, not even against HYDRA.
"Lesson number one: fighting dirty in a war doesn't mean you're a bastard. It means only one thing, survival first, fair play later." As I spoke, I swept his leg, sending him crashing down. I clenched my fist and threw a punch straight toward his face.
He didn't freeze. Instead, he rolled to the side, letting my punch whistle past him and hit the dirt.
"Lesson number two: fighting is exhausting. Always finish it as fast as you can. War doesn't wait for anyone. One slip, and you die. One wrong move, you die. One bad decision, and you're dead."
I leaped into the air, driving my right heel down toward the spot where he was attempting to recover.
"Lesson number three: always learn every fighting style you can, even the obscure ones, so you'll know how to counter them. You don't need to master them to understand their weaknesses." I spoke while dodging his kick, his leg sweeping toward my left as he turned his body. "And be grateful that you can do it, the Super Soldier Serum didn't just enhance your physique, it also made your tactical and situational awareness much more acute."
as steve got to his feet, both of us got into staring contest as we both ready our to punch each other
"Lesson number four, and the last one: never, ever leave your back exposed. Always be ready for the worst-case scenario. Don't panic, stay calculating. Let your tactical analysis be your guide, but always be ready to improvise when things don't go your way."
I threw a standard boxing one-two at Steve. He dodged and countered with a one-two of his own. I increased my speed just enough to show him he only had a split second to improvise his next move. No one ever dreamed a human could become "super," and Steve needed to realize that his limits had completely changed.
My fist connected with his face so fast it left him bewildered. Before he could recover, I buried a punch into his gut, sending him doubling over in pain.
"And a bonus bit of advice: when fighting someone as 'super' as you are, always create an opening through trickery or by fighting dirty. Otherwise, you'd better end it fast enough that they never get the chance to do anything at all."
As Steve fell, clutching his stomach, he definitely felt the extra weight behind that last punch.
I stopped and sat down right in front of him. "Steve, I know you're a good man. And my advice about fighting dirty? I know you won't do it because that's just who you are. But remember, a little trickery isn't a bad thing when the goal is saving others instead of just saving your own pride."
"You really don't pull your punches, James," Steve wheezed, finally starting to feel the weight of my words. That last strike had been the ultimate trickery, Steve had seen my muscles contract, but he still wasn't fast enough to react. This lesson was well worth the pain, it had opened his eyes to the impossible, and more importantly, how to fight it.
"Well, last I checked, you weren't exactly 'super' four and a half months ago, either! Hahahaha!" I truly cherished the time I spent with him. I knew that once he went into the ice, I wouldn't see him again for seventy years, unless, by some miracle, he was found early.
Peggy appeared before us, hands on her hips. "What are you two up to?" She stared at the sight of us, two soldiers covered in dirt and sitting in the mud, completely baffled by the scene.
"Nothing much. We were just training," I said, grinning at her. "Steve here didn't exactly have a sparring partner who could handle his new weight, so he asked me for a hand." I stood up, casually slipping my hand into my pocket to pull out a cigar. I struck a match and lit it, the smoke curling into the air.
"Remember, Steve: you're not the only super soldier out there now. There's the leader of hydra. Even if his skin turned ugly or whatever happened to him, he's still a full-blown super soldier." I took a long drag from my cigar and puffed the smoke into the cool air.
"Erskine's first attempt wasn't a failure. The formula worked, but the administration was flawed. Schmidt still received the full physical boost," I said. Based on the report Steve gave after seeing Schmidt, I was certain he was in shock. He had finally seen the twisted result of what the serum could do, the monstrous reality of Johann Schmidt.
"If you meet him one day, remember this lesson. That's all for today. If you want to spar, meet me tomorrow morning at 0400. Wait by my tent." I exhaled a final cloud of smoke and turned away. "Bye, Peggy. See you tomorrow steve."
As I walked off, Steve and Peggy watched my retreating figure.
"He's intense," Steve muttered, breathless.
Peggy crossed her arms. "He's a soldier who has seen too much, Steve. But he's teaching you the one thing the manuals can't: how to survive a monster."
"What exactly was James showing you?" Peggy asked. She had seen me fight before, she knew I harnessed Chi to make my strikes more lethal than any standard punch. She wanted to know if Steve was learning to handle that kind of power.
"He's teaching me to use tricks... to fight dirty," Steve admitted. He felt a twinge of shame saying it out loud to Peggy. To a man like Steve, "dirty" felt like the opposite of "heroic," even if it was necessary.
"Fighting dirty?" Peggy let out a short laugh. "Honestly, Steve, I planned on giving you those lessons myself. I suppose James beat me to it. I didn't realize he was so well-versed in the 'less-than-honorable' arts."
"He is, isn't he?" Steve muttered. The weight of the lesson felt even heavier now. He was starting to understand that being an agent wasn't as glorious as the public believed. It was a world of "stab or be stabbed," a hidden battlefield where forces fought behind the scenes. He knew James could infiltrate even the most secure locations, but it still felt strange, James was a soldier, after all, not a spy. Or so Steve thought.
"He told me that just because I became a super soldier, it doesn't mean others can't do the same," Steve said quietly. "He's preparing me for the unexpected. While I'm grateful, I'm still not sure if I can bring myself to use his style of fighting. But he did tell me to master as many martial arts as possible, no matter how obscure, so I can counter anything I face in the future."
Steve really had his eyes opened today. Before all this, he thought he, James, and Johann Schmidt were the only "weird" things that had happened since he arrived. Now, he was beginning to realize that the world was much larger, and much stranger, than he had ever imagined.
To be continued -
next chapter 7/2