Logan stood at the doorway, his body still, but the air around him wasn't.
His blood-crimson eyes locked onto Xavier—no warmth, no hesitation. Just something really cold. Something that hadn't been there moments ago.
"…Xavier."
Standing a few steps away, Xavier smiled like nothing was wrong.
"Logan… it's been a while, hasn't it?"
"What are you doing here, bastard?" Logan replied, his voice low, controlled—but his fists had already tightened at his sides.
Xavier took a step forward, as if he owned the place.
And stopped.
Something invisible held him back.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Logan… would you be kind enough to invite me in?" he said, that same polished smile resting on his face. "We have things to discuss."
Logan let out a quiet breath.
"Oh, you want to talk?" he said, a faint smile forming—one that didn't reach his eyes.
"Like the last time? When you stabbed us in the back?"
The temperature in the air seemed to drop.
"Now," Logan continued, voice hardening,
"tell me why you're here… or crawl back to whatever hole you came out of."
A heavy pressure spread outward from him.
Even the ground beneath his feet seemed to react.
For a moment, Xavier was silent.
Then—
He laughed.
Not lightly.
Not casually.
A sharp, unrestrained laugh.
"Man… you really haven't changed, have you, Captain?"
The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious.
"But you're not the man you used to be."
A pause.
Then—
"I've come for the Shadow Core, Logan."
Silence.
"I know you have it."
For the briefest moment, Logan's eyes shifted.
Surprise.
Gone just as quickly as it appeared.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Logan said flatly.
"So get the hell out of my sight… before I break the promise I made to your wife."
He turned his back.
That alone was disrespect.
Dangerous.
Xavier sighed, scratching the back of his head.
"Well… since your memory's gone foggy," he said casually,
"maybe I should ask someone else."
A small smile crept back onto his face.
"Your wife might know where it is."
Logan stopped walking.
Silence.
Then slowly—
He turned.
His fingers twisted the ring on his hand.
"You know what…" Logan said quietly, stepping forward.
"I might have to break that promise after all."
THE FIGHT BEGINS
A thin line opened across Logan's palm.
Blood slipped out—
And didn't fall.
It moved.
Stretching, twisting, forming—
Chains.
Dark red, pulsing slightly, like they were alive.
Xavier smiled, drawing his sword in one smooth motion. The blade was black—too black—like it swallowed light.
Then—
Figures stepped out from the shadows.
One.
Three.
Six.
More.
They surrounded Logan in a loose circle, weapons ready.
"You didn't think I'd come alone, did you?" Xavier said.
"Hand over the Core… and we leave."
Logan looked around.
Then smiled.
Not amused.
Not friendly.
Just… done holding back.
The ring on his finger lit up faintly.
"You're not getting anything from me."
A pause.
"Except your death."
The chains shot forward.
At the same time—
Twelve weapons formed behind Logan, suspended in the air.
Blades. Spears. Edged constructs made from hardened blood.
With a flick of his hand—
They launched.
The battlefield exploded into motion.
COMBAT (IMPROVED FLOW + IMPACT)
Xavier barely tilted his head as the chain tore past him, slicing through the air where his neck had been.
By the time he moved—
Logan was already there.
Two short blades formed in Logan's hands, their edges darkened, almost black.
"Now…" Logan said, stepping in.
"Let's see how strong you've gotten."
The first strike came fast.
Xavier blocked—but the force pushed him back a step.
Then another.
And another.
Logan didn't rush.
He pressed.
Every movement tight. Efficient. Controlled.
Each strike carried weight.
The ground beneath them cracked with every exchange.
Behind them, the floating weapons tore through the group.
Not wildly.
Precisely.
One by one, the attackers fell, unable to keep up with the relentless assault.
Xavier's grip tightened.
'He's stronger…'
He blocked another strike—barely.
'Even injured… this is too much.'
Logan stepped to the side, shifting his stance.
The two blades merged into one.
He lowered his center of gravity.
The air tensed.
"Blood Arts…"
A brief pause.
Then—
"Crescent Moon Slash."
He swung.
A red arc tore through the space in front of him—
Wide.
Heavy.
Unstoppable.
It carved through the forest, leveling everything in its path.
"Shit—!"
Xavier raised his blade, but it wasn't enough.
The attack hit.
His body was thrown back, crashing through debris before skidding across the ground.
Silence followed.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then—
Xavier pushed himself up, coughing blood.
"…Damn it…"
His vision blurred slightly.
'I knew he was strong… even after the war… but this—'
He looked up.
Two glowing red eyes stared back at him from the settling dust.
Logan.
Walking toward him.
Slowly.
SHIFT IN MOMENTUM
Then—
A sharp pain hit Logan's chest.
He stopped for half a second.
His jaw tightened.
The wound from the war.
Every use of his blood arts chipped away at him.
Xavier saw it.
And moved.
He dashed forward, raising his blade for a killing strike.
The sword came down—
And passed through nothing.
An afterimage.
"…Too slow."
Logan's voice came from behind him.
Xavier turned sharply.
'Damn it…'
'He's still moving like this… in that condition?'
Logan stood there, calm.
Unbothered.
Like the pain didn't matter.
"Come on, Xavier," Logan said.
"Let's finish this."