CHAPTER 104 – THE CHAINS REMEMBER
The iron bit into Logan's wrists. Every breath rattled against the cold stink of rust and hay. He opened his eyes slow, head pounding from Mesmero's spell. His muscles wouldn't answer him, not fully.
But the chains. The weight of them. The way they cut into flesh.
Something ugly stirred in his chest. A memory, half-shattered, half-buried. Cold steel. Restraints. Screams muffled by water. Hands cutting into him, wiring his bones with fire.
His claws itched. His breath quickened.
'Not again. Not EVER again.'
With a roar, his arms flexed. Muscles bunched like coiled steel. The chains groaned, cracked, then SNAPPED apart in showers of sparks.
Logan dropped to the dirt floor, panting, sweat dripping. His claws SNIKT'd out on their own, gleaming under the torchlight.
The tent flap rustled. Two bodyguards stumbled in, laughing.
"Hey, freak's awake—"
Logan was on them before the second word left their lips. Claws stopped an inch from a throat, the tip scratching skin.
"Talk," Logan growled. "Where's Mesmero?"
The guard's eyes bulged. "H-his tent! By the main ring!"
Logan let him go with a shove, the man crashing into the hay.
Outside, the circus was roaring with cheers. Performances in full swing. Logan slipped between shadows, following the stink of Mesmero's power.
He ducked into a familiar tent. Jean's.
She was seated before a mirror, brushing her hair in silence, her eyes hollow. She looked up as he entered—and panic surged across her face.
"HELP! SLIM—!"
Logan clamped a hand over her mouth, pinning her to the chair. "Jeanie, it's me. WAKE UP."
She thrashed, eyes wild. Cyclops burst into the doorway in that ridiculous cowboy garb.
"Get away from her!"
Logan didn't hesitate. His fist cracked across Scott's jaw. Slim dropped like a sack of bricks.
Jean screamed. Logan shook her shoulders. "Listen to me! You're not a damn circus doll, you're an X-MAN!"
Her eyes darted, her breath short. No flicker of recognition.
Logan's teeth clenched. 'The chains broke me because they cut deep. I need to cut her pride. Something she can't ignore.'
He slapped her. Once. Twice.
Jean's face twisted in fury, eyes blazing.
The tent EXPLODED with telekinetic force. Logan flew backward, slammed against the canvas wall, the air punched from his lungs.
Jean stood trembling, fire in her gaze. "How DARE you—"
And then her words broke. Her eyes widened. Memory slammed back into place.
"Logan…?"
She dropped to her knees beside him. "God—are you hurt?"
He groaned, grinning through blood. "You just broke my back, Red. But hey… you're awake."
Jean pressed her hand to her temple, tears threatening. "The others—we have to free them."
"Then use that big fiery brain of yours," Logan said, hauling himself upright. "Light the spark."
Outside, the carnival music stumbled into chaos. Storm, Sunfire, Banshee, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Thunderbird—their eyes clearing as Jean's power spread through their minds. Shackles dropped. Illusions cracked.
The guards rushed the midway, only to meet the fists, flames, and fury of the awakened X-Men.
Inside Mesmero's tent, Beast staggered, sweat dripping as green energy coiled around his skull. Mesmero leaned over him, gloating. "Soon, blue devil, you'll dance to my strings."
Beast clenched his teeth. "Not… a chance…"
Suddenly a bodyguard burst in, panicked. "Boss! The X-Men— they're loose!"
Mesmero's eyes went wide. "No… impossible!"
Beast snarled, breaking free of the glow with one last surge, and swung a haymaker—
Only to be blindsided. A heavy blow smashed him from behind. He crashed to the floor, vision blurring.
Mesmero stumbled back—then froze.
His face twisted in terror.
Then the tent flap tore open.
The X-Men stormed in—Jean blazing, Logan with claws bared, Cyclops visor humming red, Storm's eyes crackling with stormlight. Colossus, Nightcrawler, Thunderbird, Sunfire, Banshee, all ready for war.
They froze at the sight: Beast unconscious on the floor. Mesmero standing over him.
Logan growled. "Figures it'd be you."
Cyclops lifted his hand. "Mesmero—you're finished."
Mesmero opened his mouth. No words came. His eyes bulged wide. Then, as if strings had been cut, his whole body jerked—and he collapsed, face-first, unconscious beside Beast.
Silence dropped heavy.
The X-Men glanced at each other. Storm whispered, "What… what happened?"
A slow sound creaked through the tent. The desk—massive, metal, carved—turned with deliberate weight.
From the high-backed chair, a figure swiveled into view.
Scarlet helm. Cold eyes. Cloak like spilled blood.
Magneto.
His voice filled the tent like iron dragged across stone.
"Mesmero was but a puppet. And you—X-Men—are flies caught in my web."
The air vibrated. Nails and iron pins ripped themselves from the ground, hovering, trembling in his magnetic grip.
Logan's claws slid out with a SNIKT. His lip curled. "Aw, hell."