Chapter 120
The Jinguchi Maru creaked under the weight of the storm it carried in its belly—hundreds of weary passengers, the X-Men among them. Days at sea had dulled even Logan's edge. The air was sharp with salt, and for once the team felt almost like tourists… until the Japanese coastline rose through the mist.
And the coastline was burning.
"Good Lord…" Banshee leaned hard against the railing, his brogue thick with disbelief. "It's like the whole bloody shore's gone up."
Storm's eyes widened. Children clustered on the deck, pointing at the orange sky, their voices shrill with terror. She whispered, almost to herself, "Fire and smoke, and yet it is the ocean's edge… not a desert battlefield. How cruelly familiar it feels."
Sunfire stood apart, fists clenched. His voice trembled with both rage and longing. "My homeland. My city. Ablaze like tinder." He turned on his heel. "We waste no more time. Captain, the port is useless. There is no docking in that inferno."
The captain, an old salt with trembling hands, shook his head. "We'd rip the hull to shreds if we tried."
"Then we fly," Cyclops said firmly, cutting through the panic. "Storm, Banshee—carry Thunderbird and Colossus,Me. Nightcrawler can teleport down in one hop. Sunfire, you take Logan."
Logan cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. He'd been leaning invisible against the shadows of the rail, barely felt by anyone around him. He stepped forward and muttered, "Sure, bub. Just don't drop me in the drink."
Sunfire gave him a sideways glare but said nothing, his pride too full to argue.
One by one, the X-Men leapt skyward or blinked from smoke to stone, descending into the chaos of Japan's coast.
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They landed amidst refugees stumbling away from collapsing homes. Fire brigades fought losing battles against walls of flame.
Colossus bent immediately to help a group straining against a fallen beam. "Together, friends—quickly!" He lifted the timber as though it weighed nothing.
Storm swept forward, her arms spread. "Children, this way! Follow me!" Her white cloak billowed as she shepherded a family through the smoke. In the tear-streaked faces of the little ones, she saw herself: the frightened street child clutching to life in Cairo's alleys. Her heart ached. I will not fail them as the world once failed me.
Thunderbird cursed under his breath, pulling a man from the wreckage of a half-crushed cart. "Hell of a homecoming, Sunfire."
Sunfire's jaw was stone. "Every moment wasted here is another wound for my country." He waved off the insult but carried the sting.
The X-Men regrouped on a less crowded street. Cyclops scanned the chaos. "We can't stay here. We need information, allies, and a safe place to plan."
Sunfire's voice was tight but steady. "My ancestral home lies north. If it still stands, it will serve."
They agreed quickly. Xavier was unreachable, their funds nonexistent, and they had nowhere else to turn.
As they marched, Logan trailed near the rear, his nostrils twitching. Something nagged at him—no, not scent this time, but the feel of absence. He couldn't even sense himself. He smirked inwardly. This stealth trick's the real deal. I could walk through a crowd and no one'd feel the air stir.
A child tugged at Storm's cloak, eyes wide. "Why… why were there so few people in the harbor? We saw ships, but…"
Logan stooped, plucking a crumpled newspaper from the gutter. His eyes scanned the characters fluidly.
"Because they were warned, kid," he growled, straightening. "Whole city told to clear out before the quake hit."
Cyclops blinked. "Wait—you read Japanese?"
Logan didn't look up. He just let a grin curl under his stubble. "You never asked, boss-eye."
Nightcrawler chuckled, his tail flicking. "Mein Gott, Logan, what else do you hide from us? Next you'll be playing Bach on the violin."
Logan gave him a long look. "Don't tempt me, elf."
The road carried them onward until, through the smoke, Sunfire's ancestral gates came into view—looming, scarred but standing. Guards bristled as the ragtag team approached, but Sunfire's command swept them aside.
Inside the courtyard, two women awaited them. One with an iron arm gleaming like a pistol under the sun—Misty Knight. The other carried herself with a warrior's calm grace—Colleen Wing.
"X-Men," Misty said, voice clipped, "Japan is trembling. Earthquakes tearing through its bones. Fires spreading faster than they can be contained. The Prime Minister sent word—this is no natural disaster."
Colleen's dark eyes met Cyclops'. "You've come at the right time. But this storm is only beginning."
The team shared grim looks. Logan's head tilted, ears twitching as if to catch something no one else could hear—a flute, distant, sweet, floating from a garden beyond. His instincts pulled him there.
He muttered under his breath. "Well now… that's a tune worth chasing."
And he slipped away, vanishing like a ghost in his own skin.