Part 6: Echoes in the Flesh
Location: Xavier Institute, Kitchen to Medical Wing
Time: The next day, afternoon
The scent of grilled meat and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air. Riven sat across from Logan at the kitchen counter, both men eating in comfortable silence. The light filtering in through the wide windows washed the room in gold.
Logan lit a cigar and leaned back. "You know, back in the day, before all this mutant rights stuff got big... I was just a guy with claws and a messed-up memory. Government had me dancing on strings. People died. A lot of them."
Riven glanced up. "You remember all of it?"
"Not all," Logan said with a small grunt. "But enough to make me drink a bottle dry on a bad night. I heal, I fight, I live too long. Watched a lot of people go." He took another bite and then nodded toward Riven. "You get it. Different way, same weight."
Before Riven could reply, Jean entered the kitchen, urgency in her steps.
"The kid's waking up," she said. "His vitals are stabilizing. Charles says his mind is still recovering, but he's more present now."
Riven stood immediately, his plate forgotten. Logan followed without a word. The three made their way through the quiet hallways toward the medical bay.
Inside, the room was dimly lit but calm. Beast stood checking monitors, Monroe stood with arms crossed, watching silently. Xavier sat beside the bed, eyes closed, clearly projecting a soft telepathic presence into the boy's mind. Cyclops stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips.
The boy—his skin pale, eyes sunken but alert—turned when Riven entered. Something in his gaze shifted. Recognition. Trust.
"You came back," he said hoarsely.
Riven took a cautious step forward. "You're safe now."
The boy nodded weakly. "They were trying to make me like you..."
Everyone in the room stilled.
"What?" Logan asked.
The boy's voice trembled. "Hydra... they wanted to give me your body. Your... powers. They thought I was the key because of my mutation. Said my body could adapt. But the others... the other kids... they didn't survive. I heard them scream."
Riven's jaw clenched. The lights in the room flickered. A crack formed in the floor beneath his feet, subtle but sharp, like a spiderweb of glass.
Xavier's eyes opened. "Riven. Breathe."
Jean took a step closer. Cyclops tensed. Monroe's eyes narrowed.
But Riven's breathing steadied. Slowly, painfully, he pulled the anger inward, buried it beneath layers of will.
"I'm fine," he said, though the edge in his voice betrayed him.
The boy looked at him again, this time with something like guilt. "I didn't want to hurt you."
"You didn't," Riven replied, his voice softer now. "You're still here. That's what matters."