Chapter 31 Jump or Burn
The Blackbird was supposed to be uncatchable. A shadow slicing the skies, faster than radar, swifter than death. But tonight, death wasn't chasing. Death was waiting.
Logan's pupils shrank to pinpricks as the missiles launched. His mutant senses slowed the world into molasses - silver serpents ripping from the mountain's lurrets, hungry and screaming toward them. In that stretched eternity, Logan's brain ticked like a gunslinger's clock: No way out. No barrel roll.
No evasive split. They've got us dead to rights.
"MOVE!"
He didn't wait for Cyclops' order. Didn't care.
He kicked the hatch with a roar, steel boot slamming until it buckled open. The air ripped into the cabin, clawing and shrieking like some furious beast. Logan grabbed the two nearest mutants by the scruffs each, no hesitation the abyss. one arm and hurled himself into
The wind shredded his voice, but still he
howled:
"JUMP, DAMN YOU! JUMP NOW!"
Behind him, Cyclops' voice cut through the chaos like a drill sergeant made of fire: "Sunfire! Take one down. Banshee, grab another! Storm-two at once, then come back for me!"
They spilled into the black like sparks from a fire, Right after they jumped ,The blackbird exploded ,the Blackbird blooming behind them into a sun of twisted metal and screaming flame.
Freefall wasn't flight. It was raw, murderous gravity, eager to make meat paste of them against the jagged mountain's foot. Mutants flailed, arms pinwheeling, faces locked in panic. But Cyclops' orders carried like gospel, each flying mutant streaking into action:
Sunfire, blazing comet, snatched one rookie under his arm, a trail of fire marking their descent.
Banshee, voice splitting the night, harnessed sonic thrust to rocket downward, cradling his teammate like a banshee ferrying souls.
Storm rose like a goddess torn from myth, wind wrapping around her like silk. She reached for two at once, straining
against gravity's demand.
Cyclops hung in the air alone, visor burning red as he waited. His jaw was stone. His hands clenched into fists against inevitability.
But Logan told Storm to take Cyclops instead of him.
But Logan wasn't gliding to safety.
His instincts snarled. His claws SNIKTed out, gleaming silver banners against the black. Not
the usual three, but five-meter lances, grotesque and glinting in the moonlight.
"Darlin'!" Storm's voice ripped across the gale, desperate as she swept by with Cyclops and Colusses. "You'll die!"
Logan's grin was wolfish, feral, madness on the edge of reason.
"Trust me, 'Ro! I die every damn day!"
She wanted to reach for him, but she couldn't. She had Cyclops and Colusses in her arms, weight straining her winds, and for once the goddess of the skies looked afraid.
The mountainside rushed up to meet him like the fist of God. Logan snarled, Jammed his claws into the rock and the world exploded.
Sparks screamed, stone shrieked, his
shoulders wrenched nearly out of socket. The
claws carved deep scars into the
mountainside as he dragged, slowing, slowing tearing himself raw against unmovable earth.
The impact rattled his bones until he thought they'd burst out of his skin. His muscles tore, then healed mid-tear. His hands split open on the hilt of his own claws, blood slicking down steel. But he kept going.
He slammed to a halt at last, breath ragged, arms trembling. His Inertia bled away. He
retracted his claws and the sudden snap pulled him closer to the cliff. He jammed them back out again, climbing down like some nightmarish insect.
By the time his boots hit dirt, his chest was heaving, his body a bloody mess already stitching itself together.
The rest landed in bursts of fire, thunder, and sonic shriek. Cyclops touched ground last, eyes sweeping his ragtag squad. One team, alive. One miracle.
Cyclops didn't smile. He never did. He just gave the order, volce flat as bedrock:
"Form up. Colossus - smash us an entrance."
And just like that, the mission moved forward. No time for thanks. No time for fear.
Logan spat a mouthful of blood into the dirt, wiped his jaw, and muttered to himself: "Helluva warm-up."