To Me, My X-Men!

1407 1407 Greymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York State, the former site of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

This had once been a sanctuary for all mutants across the world, a home in the hearts of the X-Men. Now, only dead silence remained here.

Logan stood before the beginning-to-rust school gates, standing quietly for over a minute, saying nothing and doing nothing.

His face looked much younger, yet a lingering sense of vicissitudes still carried within his gaze.

Returning once more to the familiar place, Logan looked at the yellowed school plaque, at the overgrown courtyard, and at the Victorian main building that appeared exceptionally desolate in the setting sun.

Only then did he slowly step forward, using all his strength to push open the heavy gates.

Creak—

It was like a lingering sigh, echoing through the empty courtyard.

"Whoa, is this the base of the X-Men?" Bobby's voice came from behind.

Logan did not look back, answering casually, "School."

"Did you guys used to live here?" Richter asked.

"The others lived here, but I just came back occasionally." Logan replied.

"Are we going to live here from now on?" Rebecca spoke up, "I've always wanted to try what it feels like to live in a castle."

"That'll have to wait until Charles wakes up, but I figure he won't object." Logan said casually, then looked in a certain direction, his expression gradually calming down.

"You guys wait for me nearby for a moment, I'm going to... check out some other places first."

Dropping those words, Logan temporarily parted ways with the kids, crossing the courtyard alone. The gravel and dead branches underfoot crunched crisply, appearing exceptionally harsh in this emptiness. Of the basketball hoop he passed, only a single bolt remained hanging, swaying precariously in the wind.

He didn't take the front entrance, instead skirting around to the back of the academy and arriving at the cemetery.

Row upon row of tombstones stood quietly in the evening breeze.

Inscribed here were familiar names: Scott Summers, Henry McCoy, Aurora Munroe...

Logan took a deep breath through his nose, unable to help pressing his lips together. He still remembered that most of these tombstones... were ones he had buried with his own hands.

His fingers brushed across the cold tombstones, the rough texture of the granite transferring to his fingertips like touching a scar that could never heal. He remembered how heavy the shovel was when he buried this stone, and he also remembered that it hadn't rained that day, yet the soil was unusually damp...

"I'm back..."

Logan whispered to himself.

Clearly there was no one else here, yet at this moment he seemed to see those familiar faces welcoming his return with the most brilliant smiles.

After reuniting with old friends and settling his emotions, Logan brought the youths back to the main building, heading straight for the headmaster's office belonging to Charles.

Uncleaned for over a year, a thick layer of dust had already accumulated here. Logan walked straight to one side of the bookshelf wall, tapping against the surface with his knuckles not too lightly or too heavily, producing a few dull, hollow thounds.

"Is the entrance to the underground base behind that wall?" Bobby asked curiously.

"Should be," Logan replied, "but I've no idea how many years ago the remote to open the entrance was lost, so we'll change methods to get in now."

With that, he looked at Richter and said, "Richter, give me a hand."

Richter understood, stepping forward a few paces and pressing his hands steadily against the wall. He closed his eyes, and a formless energy surged from his palms. At first it was just a low hum, but soon, the entire wall began to vibrate violently along with it, the plaster flaking off in showers as spiderweb-like cracks spread rapidly.

"Cough, cough..." Delia couldn't help waving her hand to brush away the dust, "Damn, the dust is so heavy here... Just how long has it been since anyone cleaned up?"

"It's been a while. If the old Charles were here and saw his office turned into this, he'd definitely get pissed." Logan said, looking at the elderly Charles sleeping in the wheelchair on the side, "Though now... I figure he probably doesn't have that much fire left in him."

"Boom—"

Right at that moment, amid Richter's vibrations, the wall collapsed inward abruptly, rubble and dust bursting open to reveal a pitch-black opening.

Behind the opening was a bottomless elevator shaft, fierce winds surging upward from below, carrying a scent of metal and dust.

Logan turned back to tell the few of them, "I'll go down and check it out first, Laura, take care of Charles."

With that, he leaped forward without hesitation, jumping into that patch of darkness.

The sound of falling wind whistled in his ears, and a moment later, a heavy thud echoed from the bottom of the shaft.

"Bang!"

Logan's feet slammed solidly onto the top of the elevator car, the massive impact causing the entire car to shudder. He didn't pause for a moment, three steel claws popping from the back of his hands to effortlessly slice open the metal roof beneath his feet, and jumped into the dark elevator cabin.

He forcefully pried open the elevator doors, stepping into the dead-silent underground base. The emergency lights had long since extinguished, and it was pitch black here, with only the sound of his own footsteps echoing in the empty metal corridor, one after another.

Following his former memories, he passed through one familiar corridor after another, pushing open a heavy airtight door to arrive at the underground hangar.

That battle-scarred SR-71 Blackbird reconnaissance jet sat quietly in the center of the hangar, as if waiting for the return of old friends.

Looking at it, Logan couldn't help muttering, "We meet again... old friend..."

After expressing some emotion, Logan spoke up to ask Aurora, "Aurora, how do we get him flying again?"

"First we need to reboot the power here, Mr. Logan." Aurora replied, "According to the data I collected regarding the underground base of the Xavier Institute, there should be backup power supplies for emergencies here."

Logan frowned, "Where'd you collect that data from?"

"Military top-secret electronic archives."

"Damn it!!"

Logan cursed a few times, then with Aurora's help, found the backup power supply in the base's electrical room and flipped the main breaker.

Emergency lights blinked on one by one, emitting a monotonous hum. The steady white light pierced through the dust suspended in the air, driving away the darkness that had entrenched itself for years. The vast underground space was instantly illuminated, and the ventilation system subsequently started up, churning the stale air.

"The power supply system designed by Mr. Hank is really stable." Aurora's voice came from the phone, "Even without maintenance for a whole year, it can still maintain basic operations..."

"Mmh." Logan nodded, saying in a low voice, "He's always been that reliable."

Soon, under Logan's lead, the youths brought Charles into the underground base.

When these youths born in laboratories saw the futuristic technological scene before their eyes, especially that huge black fighter jet, everyone was shocked into speechlessness.

"Cool—!!" Bobby's mouth hung open in a daze, light flashing in his eyes, and without a second thought he rushed over, wanting to touch the outer shell of the fighter jet.

"Jonah! Look, this is the plane of my dreams!"

"Quit shouting, that's the X-Men's plane, not yours!"

"It doesn't matter!" Bobby shook his head, "We're going to be X-Men from now on anyway!"

"..." Jonah sighed, instinctively looking over toward Logan.

Logan merely waved a hand at this, indicating he didn't mind.

So Jonah nodded heavily at Logan, then turned and ran over after Bobby.

"Damn it, move aside! Let me go first!!"

Jonah, you clearly weren't interested just a moment ago!

"Shut up! No one can refuse a cool plane! No one!!"

Logan paid no further heed to the children's ruckus, instead pushing Charles toward the medical area of the base.

The equipment here was better preserved than anything else in the main building above, with biomonitors, automated surgical tables, and drug synthesizers all readily available. He briefly cleaned up the medical area, then carefully settled Charles onto one of the medical beds and hooked up the monitoring equipment.

On the screen, faint yet steady vital curves began to jump, indicating that Charles was truly coming back to life.

Having finished all this, Logan turned and walked alone toward the Blackbird jet.

"Hey, hey, have Aurora open the door first!"

Logan pulled the few youths away first, and accompanied by a burst of mechanical roaring, the jet's boarding stairs slowly descended, revealing the somewhat sci-fi-styled cabin inside.

"Be careful, don't break the stuff in here." Logan said as he walked into the cockpit, "Every time the plane got broken before, Hank would fly into a rage at me..."

As the startup succeeded, the indicator lights on the console lit up one by one, emitting a pleasant prompt tone to show all equipment was in good condition.

Logan sat in his most accustomed pilot's seat, the leather texture of the cushion identical to his memories. He instinctively reached out toward the corner of the cushion, casually feeling around to discover a slightly yellowed sticky note in the corner of the seat.

"Parts are expensive, if you fly recklessly again I'm making you pay for the damages, Logan!"

The handwriting was familiar, left behind by Beast Hank.

Logan paused, then chuckled softly, carefully tucking this sticky note into his jacket.

After resting briefly in the base, Logan led the youths to the X-Men's armory. He rummaged through rows of sealed storage cabinets for a while, pulling out a stack of black uniforms and tossing them onto the table.

"Find something that fits."

The black uniforms bore the classic "X" logo, the style simple and brimming with a sense of power.

"Whoa!"

"Just like in the comics!"

"Hey, isn't there a women's changing room here?" Delia asked Logan, holding a uniform.

"Over that way." Logan casually pointed.

"Thanks."

"Bobby, what are you doing?" Richter asked Bobby, who didn't know what he was tinkering with.

"I found this!" Bobby brandished a small portable speaker showily, "Found it under the cabinet, looks like it still works!"

"Oh, that's Kitty's (Shadowcat) stuff." Logan glanced at it and said, "From a few years ago, she thought she'd lost it outside at the time, never expected it was here..."

"Then can this thing belong to me?" Bobby asked.

"Sure can, on the condition that it still works."

As he spoke, Logan walked straight to a cabinet in the corner bearing his name, pulling out that set of black tight leather clothing he used to hold in such disdain.

He said no more, silently putting on the combat suit piece by piece. The tight leather wrapped around his muscles, once again bulging from serum injections, every single inch of line filled with suppressed, explosive power.

Then, his gaze skimmed casually over the dressing mirror beside him, instinctively rubbing his chin before fishing out an old-fashioned razor from the wardrobe, shaving off his long-grown beard bit by bit. The foam mixed with the shaved stubble, revealing his sharp-angled face.

Laura appeared in the doorway at some point, leaning against the doorframe and watching him quietly. Logan glanced at her from the mirror, but didn't stop the movements of his hands.

When the final stroke was shaved clean, Logan looked at the untamed Wolverine in the mirror and smiled in relief.

An hour later, inside the cockpit of the Blackbird jet, all personnel had finished changing their attire.

Aurora's voice came through the communication channel, "System self-test complete, everything normal, the hangar is about to open, please prepare yourselves."

"Thanks, Aurora." Logan muttered to himself, "Seriously, I've never been able to fly this thing..."

As a mechanical roar sounded, the hangar dome slowly slid open to both sides, revealing the night sky above.

Then, the roar of the Blackbird's engines shifted from dormant to roaring, as if the entire hangar were vibrating because of it. Soon, the fighter jet rose vertically, rushing out from the dilapidated Xavier Institute parade ground and shooting straight into the clouds.

"Oh, oh, oh—!!"

Under the acceleration of the plane's ascent, the youths' bodies were pressed heavily against the cushions. Watching the scenes flashing past outside the windows, unsuppressible excitement bloomed on everyone's faces.

The Blackbird quickly entered stealth mode, transforming into a ghost and vanishing into the pre-dawn night.

Until the flight state stabilized, Logan spoke up once more, "Quiet down, everyone! Now let me clarify the plan again!"

"We'll land from the airspace above Whiteman Air Force Base at dawn, launch a sneak attack, then look for Miles and the others," Logan said slowly, "Anyone with questions, ask now."

"I do!" Richter spoke up, "The key to the operation is rescuing Miles, so how are we going to find him in the air force base?"

"The cerebrospinal fluid extractor on the back of Miles's head has a built-in tracker," Aurora replied, "I've recorded that signal frequency. As long as you reach within a certain range, I can perform precise positioning through the communicator!"

"Then what if they've already dismantled that extractor?" Jonah asked.

Aurora fell silent for a moment, then replied: "According to my estimation, the researchers there should also be very curious about Miles. They will most likely... first extract enough 'research samples' from Miles before considering anything else."

The cockpit fell silent, leaving only the low whine of the engines.

Logan was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "After we arrive at the air force base later, I'll charge out first to draw the firepower. Then you guys head out, listen to Aurora's arrangements, and play it by ear. Understand?"

"But you alone..." Richter couldn't help starting.

"Shut up." Logan cut him off, his tone unquestionable, "Do as I say."

The youths exchanged glances, and no one spoke up to refute him further.

Just as the tactics were preliminarily finalized, Aurora suddenly spoke up: "Logan, Mr. Charles has woken up."

Logan was startled, and then the console screen displayed the face of the newly awakened Charles located in the base's medical room.

The elderly Charles initially seemed prepared to say something, but upon seeing the scene in the Blackbird cockpit ahead where Logan and several youths were fully geared up in neat uniforms ready for action, his gaze froze and he went completely blank.

When he finally recovered his wits, the old man couldn't help asking, "Am I dreaming, Logan?"

Logan looked at him, squeezing a smile onto his face: "That's right, sleep tight, old man."

"Fuck Logan!" Charles cursed fiercely, "I've slept enough already! Dammit... you bastards... going on a mission without telling anyone..."

After cursing fiercely for a bit, Charles couldn't help cracking a grin, letting out a silly laugh. Seeing him like this, Logan couldn't help chuckling softly either.

"I don't seem to know these kids yet..." Charles asked, "What are your names?"

"Richter." "Jonah." "Delia."...

As the youngsters stated their names, Charles pressed his lips together, unable to keep from laughing once more.

Then, seemingly sensing something, Charles slowly withdrew his smile and asked softly, "Logan... I don't seem to see Miles?"

"Yeah." Logan's expression also returned to calm as he nodded, "We're getting ready to bring him back."

Looking at Logan, who seemed over a decade younger and completely transformed into a different person, Charles opened his mouth, ultimately saying only a single sentence gently.

"Good luck."

Over half an hour later, Aurora's calm voice came through the communicator.

"Arrived above the target airspace, conducting final radar sweep..."

On the console screen, the dense cluster of military buildings on the ground was clearly outlined by infrared, resembling a cemetery built of steel.

Logan stood up without a word, walking straight toward the rear cabin door of the plane. As he pressed the switch, the cabin door's hydraulic rods emitted a dull sound, slowly opening.

The biting gale instantly poured in, carrying the thin chill unique to high altitudes, brutally billowing everyone's trouser legs and jacket hems. Amidst the harsh howling, the youths instinctively squinted their eyes.

Logan's gaze swept across their faces one by one. On these youthful, unworldly faces, there was tension and excitement, but no fear.

He watched silently, engraving each person's appearance into his mind, then said in a deep voice, "Is the plan clear to everyone?"

The youths looked at each other, then nodded in unison, equally fervent flames burning in their gazes.

Logan nodded, then turned around, facing the crowd, blocking the howling wind outside. For a moment, only the low hum of the engines remained inside the cabin.

A few seconds later, Logan spoke.

"X-Men, move out!"

With that, Logan stepped forward without hesitation, leaping down from a height of thousands of meters!