Dante spun through the chaos of the casino, his movements sharp and efficient. With each swing of Ray—now charged with crackling electricity—he left a trail of stunned bodies. The arcs of energy weren't lethal, but they packed enough voltage to knock out the alien guards cold, sending their limbs twitching as they collapsed. His strikes were precise, cutting shallow across armor joints to maximize the shock effect.
Holstering his sword in one smooth motion, Dante drew his twin pistols. The barrels hummed with energy as he fired a barrage of electric rounds—non-lethal but potent enough to drop several guards before they could even raise their weapons. Each shot was like a thunderclap in a bottle, knocking enemies back with a bright flash and a burst of crackling sound.
Across the floor, Logan's voice echoed in Dante's mind through the psychic link.
Logan: "Quentin, I thought you'd be long gone by now."
Dante's eyes flicked to the far side of the casino floor, where Quentin Quire stood with a sneer and a defiant posture.
Quentin: "Kid Omega doesn't run."
Dante and Logan (in unison): "Since when?"
Quentin: "Since I read in these cretins' minds what they were planning on doing to us."
Logan's growl was nearly audible even through the mental link.
Logan: "Show us."
In an instant, the image blasted into their minds. Horrific. Invasive. Dante recoiled slightly, his grip tightening on his weapons.
Dante: "How could these bastards even think of doing something like that?"
Logan: "Nobody does that to me. Not even in their imagination."
Quentin: "Ditto."
Logan: "Don't worry, kids. Now that I know what they're capable of, I won't feel bad about doing this."
With that, Logan erupted into motion, claws gleaming as he dove into the fray. The sounds of tearing flesh and panicked shouts filled the room.
Dante followed suit, holstering the pistols and pulling Ray free again. This time, there were no light cuts or taser-style stuns. He carved through enemy after enemy with full intent, each strike cleaving through flesh, armor, and bone. His bullets shifted to full combat mode—enhanced piercing rounds that blew through cover and punched through targets like paper.
Dante (shouting): "We got this! Quentin, find the nearest exit. That's an order!"
Quentin: "I'm sure it is. But there's something I've been wanting to try…"
Dante glanced over just in time to see Quentin raising his left arm, channeling a focused, pulsating glow of psychic energy. The blue light surged and condensed.
Quentin: "You know how Psylocke and Rachel Grey can channel psychic energy into weapons, like swords or daggers…?"
The floor shook as a thunderous BOOM echoed through the hall. Dante turned just in time to see Logan buried under a pile of downed aliens, more swarming toward him.
Quentin stood in the center of the chaos, holding a glowing, old-fashioned psychic shotgun, its barrels emitting a low hum of raw telepathic power.
Quentin: "Well, I've been wondering…" [He pumps the shotgun.]
*"Psychic shotgun. Suck it, alien pinheads."
He fired. A wide burst of energy exploded out, vaporizing a crowd of enemies in an instant.
Dante couldn't help but smirk.
Dante: "A gun? Someone's been inspired."
Quentin (sneering): "In your dreams."
Dante just laughed, spinning Ray into a reverse grip and charging forward once more, shoulder to shoulder with Kid Omega, ready to tear through whatever came next.
After taking down every guard on the casino floor they were in, Logan retracted his claws with a metallic shhhink as blood and sparks cooled around them. Quentin brushed the dust off his jacket and slouched dramatically, while Dante lowered his weapons, his breathing calm but alert. The trio had cut through the last wave of security like pros.
"Grab the chips, kid. We're checking out," Logan ordered, already turning toward the exit.
Quentin rolled his eyes but did as told, scooping the stolen casino chips and cramming them into a duffel bag that had seen more explosions than laundry. "Seriously, we risk our lives and you're still calling them 'chips'? You do realize this is a billion-dollar heist?"
As they rushed down the hall toward the ship bay, Logan glanced back at Quentin with a rare hint of approval. "Quire, I gotta say… you done good in there. There might be hope for you yet."
Quentin scoffed. "Don't think just because you've shown me the wonders of high-stakes gambling that I've suddenly gone soft on your little school. The place still smells like failure and optimism. I'm still gonna burn it to the ground."
Dante chuckled lightly but kept his guard up. "That's the nicest thing I've heard you say about the place."
Logan grunted. "Remind me when we get home to call Professor X and apologize. I just realized how annoying I used to be."
They hit the final stretch of corridor, booted feet echoing over polished floors as red alarms pulsed across the ceiling. The casino was in full lockdown. But they were close—just one more push.
Dante's steps slowed for a heartbeat. His instincts screamed something wasn't right.
"Um, Professor Logan," he said cautiously, eyes darting back, "I think we're being—"
"I know," Logan snapped, his voice clipped. "Start the ship!"
Without hesitating, Dante leapt into the vessel waiting at the end of the hangar bay, activating systems with the fluidity of student who had definitely who studied how to do this thoroughly.
After all, why wouldn't he not learn how to fly spaceship
But just as Logan turned to jump aboard, a heavy voice shouted from behind, dripping with fury.
"Nobody steals from the Plandanium Nugget and gets away with it!"
An alien security captain emerged from the shadows, dressed in shimmering scale-armor and wielding a massive, lantern-like energy cannon. Before Logan could react, the weapon fired.
ZRRRRRK! A blinding yellow beam shot forward and struck Logan square in the legs. A sharp, nauseating crunch echoed as metal and bone buckled.
"LOGAN!" Dante yelled in panic.
Without hesitation, Dante whipped around, raised his handgun, and fired. The charged round screamed through the air like thunder and collided with the alien's shoulder—blowing the entire arm off in a blast of crackling blue light.
The guard collapsed with a howl.
Dante didn't stop to check if the alien was dead. He dashed back, grabbing Logan and pulling him inside the ship, slamming the hatch shut behind them. The engines flared to life, and the ship tore out of the hangar into the night sky of space.
As they entered hyperspace, Dante finally allowed himself to breathe.
Then he looked down… and his eyes widened.
Logan was groaning, drenched in sweat, but what caught Dante off guard was the sight of his legs—twisted at an unnatural angle, cracked open where flesh met unbreakable adamantium.
"What the hell…?" he muttered. "That's supposed to be unbreakable."
Could it have been that weapon? That cannon? He didn't know what it was made of, but it managed to do something even the Hulk couldn't: break Wolverine's skeleton.
And then another thought hit him.
He had blown off a guy's arm.
Dante had fought before. He'd cut down guards, tangled in gun fights with them, and thrown punches that shook bones—but this was different. He didn't know if the alien survived that shot. And that uncertainty knotted something deep in his gut.
He shook his head to push the thought away and sank into a seat, rubbing his face.
But just when things were quiet… Logan let out a thunderous SCREAM that echoed through the small ship like a sonic bomb.
Dante flinched and looked over, catching a glimpse of Logan trying to sit up and then immediately cursing in pain.
"Yep. There goes my nap," Dante muttered, dragging a hand down his face.