Scott Summers, Cyclops, stood on the balcony of the guest room S.H.I.E.L.D. had prepared for them, staring blankly at the nightscape of Madripoor.
Madripoor's night view was stunning, exuding a mesmerizing and vibrant sensation. The city burned in the darkness. Neon lights, like liquid rainbows, streamed down towering glass skyscrapers, dyeing the entire sky in swirls of crimson and cobalt blue.
In the distance, the scattered lights of the lower city flickered like dying fireflies, consumed by the dazzling light pollution of the upper city. The high temperature subtly distorted the air, making the entire city seem to float in a kaleidoscope of mist, as ephemeral as a dream.
He couldn't help but sigh, unable to comprehend why his former comrades held no lingering affection for the past. They had once gathered under the Professor's wing; the Academy had been their home, but now, no one wished to continue any of it.
Cyclops's fingers unconsciously tightened, and the red glow beneath his quartz glasses flickered faintly. He wanted to inherit not just the mansion, but Charles's ideal—that ideal of coexistence, of hope. But looking around, he found himself almost entirely alone.
He sighed again.
Just then, Cyclops heard a knock at the door, which lasted only a few seconds before the door slammed to the floor with a "thud." He turned around to see Spider-Man standing at his doorway, looking quite embarrassed.
"Uh, Mr. Summers?"
"Oh, no need, just call me Scott." Cyclops amicably welcomed Peter into his room. As for the door, S.H.I.E.L.D. would surely handle it. "Is there something you need, kid?"
"I wanted to talk about Wolverine... Mr. Logan."
Before Peter could finish, Cyclops interrupted him. "I'm sorry, kid, that you had to see that. Logan is just like that; you don't need to worry about it."
However, Cyclops clearly misunderstood Peter's intention.
"I mean... I think I might understand what Wolverine... what he meant." Peter said, walking to the window and standing beside Cyclops. "I'm different from everyone else. I don't reveal my identity; I wear this mask because I'm afraid I can't protect my family. Even with the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D., I can't guarantee that my enemies, especially those whose identities I don't know, won't go after my family."
Cyclops listened silently to Peter's words, his quartz glasses reflecting the neon glow of Madripoor. He knew the kid was trying to comfort him and didn't refuse his kindness.
"So I think maybe Wolverine is the same. The reason he chose to refuse isn't because he doesn't care about Professor Xavier's legacy, but because he cares too much. Perhaps he believes that everyone around him suffers misfortune because of him, so to protect what he cares about, he needs to stay away from you all."
This didn't really have much to do with Peter wearing a mask, but it truly was Logan's genuine thought. In both the comics and the movies, Wolverine believed he was a jinx, believing that everyone around him, everyone who was kind to him, would come to a bad end. Whenever he had this thought, he would distance himself from the people he cared about.
So Peter concluded that Logan's refusal this time was for the same reason.
Cyclops was silent for a long time, then suddenly smiled, thanked Peter, and patted him on the shoulder.
"Ow!"
"Oh, sorry, I still can't control my powers very well. A little static electricity..."
"It's fine, kid." Cyclops laughed indifferently. "I've seen many young mutants who can't control their powers well; you're far from as bad as them. You should head back. I need to go out for a bit."
"Oh, one more thing." Peter reminded Cyclops, who was likely heading out to find Logan. "Theoretically, the X-gene can be inherited, and that half-Japanese guy named Daken called Wolverine by a name none of us know. Is it possible that he's Logan's son?"
At the Hellfire Club casino, Logan, now in a fresh white suit, walked into the dilapidated hall and sighed at the mess. Not everyone had fled, but no one had come in to rob the place either, because a girl in a yellow jacket was chewing bubblegum and playing a slot machine.
"This kind of thing isn't for kids, Jubilee."
Logan leaned against the slot machine, speaking to the girl. This girl was Jubilee Lee, whose parents were wealthy East Asians doing financial business in Madripoor. They were tragically killed in the streets after being mistaken for someone else by gangsters, and she had been wandering alone in Madripoor ever since. Logan had adopted her after discovering she was a mutant, acting as her guardian.
"I know, minors can't gamble, but I'm just playing around." Jubilee grinned and snapped her fingers, sparks flickering from her fingertips. "I didn't spend any money, and I even scared off the robbers for you. How about a 'thank you'?"
"You saw it. The guys I've been looking for, they came knocking." Logan didn't know how to begin, but he decided to tell Jubilee his plan. "I... I found a place for you. It'll be very safe..."
"You don't want me anymore?"
"No, it's just... sigh..." Logan sighed before he could finish speaking, not because he didn't know what to say, but because he smelled a familiar scent.
"What are you doing here again, One-Eye?"
"Same as before, Logan." Cyclops saw Jubilee sitting there and said nothing, speaking earnestly instead. "But I haven't finished what I have to say. There are some things I need to tell you."
"My mind won't change, Scott."
"Hear me out, Logan. Whether you come back or not, I'm going to reform the X-Men, because I just learned from a kid that this world genuinely still expects the X-Men. So what I want to tell you is something else." Cyclops held a case, looking at Logan. "I'm going to list you as the first heir to my legacy, because... if I die, I don't know who else could lead us besides you."
Logan had never heard such words, never seen Cyclops like this before. He was stunned, and Jubilee looked at Logan expectantly.
"Stop running, old friend. We need you. You can't keep using 'I need to protect you' as an excuse and run away every time. Are you going to tell this kid, 'I need to protect you,' and then push her away? Danger is out there; it won't just skip you because you're not around."
Logan stared intently at Cyclops. His nose told him that Scott Summers had never been this serious.
"If I really kill everyone around me, Scott, I guarantee you'll be dead in a few days. Then I'll inherit a mansion in New York."
Cyclops couldn't help but shake his head and laugh, then tossed the case to Logan. Logan opened the case, stunned, then looked at Cyclops: "What is this?"
"Your uniform. Hank made a set for everyone. If you're going to come back, then put it on."
"No, I mean..." Logan looked at the yellow and blue Kevlar armored suit inside the case. "This? Is there nothing else?"
"Then what do you want? A yellow leotard? Or black leather?"
Jubilee let out a giggle. Logan stared at the suit for a long time, then finally sighed, shaking his head with a smile at Cyclops. "You gotta be kidding me, Bob."