Outside the detention cell at Arcadia Lake's Dam Base, the guard soldiers vaguely sensed that something was wrong. The tightly sealed iron door gave off a vibrating hum, while dust shook loose from the pipes overhead. The captain gripped his assault rifle, remembering the dangerous Mutants his superior had mentioned, and tension rose within him.
An invisible force rapidly spread outward from the detention cell in all directions. Powerful psychic energy interfered with reality itself, and time seemed to freeze in an instant. Everyone's eyes went blank, their thoughts completely halted, as though the world had been fixed in place.
Of the three people in the room, Jason, the master of illusions, had completely passed out. The professor in his wheelchair and Sean, who stood before him, locked eyes as their psychic powers clashed. When it came to manipulating minds and reading consciousness, the young man was certainly no match for the bald old man. But his goal was not to defeat the professor.
"Professor, come with me to the future—a future that belongs to Mutants!"
Fleeting lights and shadows flowed like a long river around a grand and towering sacred hall. Seated at its center, the bald old man tilted his head slightly upward. Within those flickering fragments of light, he saw familiar figures.
"Logan..." the professor called Wolverine by name.
Yet compared to the lone wolf from his memories, always chewing on a cigar and rough-mannered to the extreme, Logan of the future looked far more destitute. Unshaven and disheveled, he would have looked just like a homeless man on the street if not for his cheap black suit. This strong man who had lived for more than a century somehow exuded the air of old age.
The overwhelming tide of psychic energy suddenly weakened. The professor stared