Logan stalked down the marble hallway, boots echoing in sync with the distant thud of alarms. Acrid smoke drifted from the scorched door to Cerebro’s chamber, where Professor X braced himself against the shattered entryway.
“Logan, wait,”
Xavier called, voice calm but urgent over the chaos. Past him, Jean Grey knelt beside a dazed student, her hands glowing with telekinetic light to hold back falling debris. Logan’s claws slid free with a metallic snikt as he scanned the carnage, shattered glass, scorch marks, the sharp copper scent of blood. The walls pulsed with half-remembered dread. Professor X met Logan’s gaze, eyes narrowed.
"This wasn’t random. Someone wanted something from you.”
On the floor, a patch of blood spelled out a word Logan didn’t recognize, and the rage pressed at the edges of his mind. He forced it down. The mansion shook again. Kids screamed in the distant dorms. Logan wiped a smear of blood from his knuckles, grit in his voice.
“Tell me where.”
Jean, trembling but steady, looked up.
"Whoever did this, they left a trail. And I think it’s for you, Logan.”