Hokkaido, Japan. The world was painted in shades of white and grey. Snow fell in thick, silent blankets, covering the landscape and muffling all sound. It was a place of profound tranquility, a world away from the chaos of gods and monsters. In the warm light of a traditional wooden house, a young girl's laughter echoed as she rode on her father's back, while the man carefully carried his toddler son in his arms.
A gentle voice called from the kitchen. "Logan, dinner is ready!"
The man was Logan, the Wolverine. But the feral rage in his eyes had been replaced by a soft, weary peace. The woman who called to him, the woman who had changed his world, was Mariko Yashida. In this reality, after saving her from her family's dark legacy, Logan had chosen to stay. He chose her over his endless wandering, and she chose him over the gilded cage of her inheritance. Together, they built a life, a real one, filled with the simple, beautiful chaos of two children and a home.
Later that evening, after Mariko had sung their children to sleep, she and Logan sat in the living room, the snow falling softly outside their window.
"If I look back," Logan said, his voice a low rumble, "I can't believe any of this is possible. A family. Peace." He looked at her, his gaze filled with a gratitude that went deeper than words. "I was looking for this my whole life. Thank you, Mariko."
She moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Logan, I am the one who is blessed. I left behind a toxic family and was able to build a new, meaningful one with you. This life… it's like a dream. I love you, Logan." They hugged, two broken souls who had found a way to heal each other.
Their quiet moment was shattered by the sharp ring of the doorbell. It was a sound so out of place in their secluded life that it felt like a gunshot. Logan's posture instantly changed. The peace vanished, replaced by the coiled tension of a predator. He opened the door to find two men standing on his porch: T'Challa, radiating a quiet, regal authority, and Tony Stark, looking entirely too smug for the weather.
SNIKT.
Three adamantium claws shot from Logan's knuckles with a sound like tearing metal. He moved into a defensive crouch. "Who the hell are you?"
"Calm down, Logan. We're friends," Tony said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.
Mariko appeared at Logan's side, her eyes wide with alarm. "I… I should prepare some tea," she said nervously, retreating into the house.
Logan stared at the two men, his instincts screaming at him to end the threat. But he saw no malice in their eyes, only a weary purpose. With a deep sigh, he retracted his claws. "I really don't want to invite either of you in," he growled. "But please, come inside."
"It's our pleasure," Tony said, stepping over the threshold.
T'Challa gave a respectful nod. "Peace, once earned, is the rarest treasure. We are not here to take yours—we are here to protect everyone's."
They sat on tatami mats in the living room. Logan, T'Challa, and Tony. Mariko returned with a tray of tea, her movements graceful but tense, and sat beside her husband.
"I would never expect a number one fighter, will become a family man," Tony commented, taking a cup.
Logan took a sip of his tea, the cup looking small and fragile in his powerful hand. "Drink your tea and get out of here."
"My wild friend," Tony began, his tone serious now. "We're here to talk about something very important. Very personal. Everyone's life is on the line. Including your family's."
A low growl rumbled in Logan's chest. "Calm yourself," Tony said quickly.
"Logan, why don't we listen to them?" Mariko said softly, placing a hand on his arm. Her touch was enough to quell the storm inside him. He gave a curt nod.
"I'm Tony Stark, the Iron Supreme," Tony said. "And this is King T'Challa of Wakanda, the Black Panther."
Tony then laid it all out: the cosmic threat, the entity that wanted to exterminate all life, the team he was building. He spoke of the stakes, of the world ending not with a bang, but with a silent, hungry void. Logan listened, his face a grim mask. The peace he had fought so hard to find was being threatened.
"How much time do we have?" Logan asked, his voice rough.
"Not much," Tony replied.
Logan looked at Mariko, at the life they had built in this small, quiet corner of the world. He was reluctant. He was tired of fighting.
Mariko met his gaze, her own eyes filled not with fear, but with resolve. "You've fought for others long enough," she said softly but firmly. "Now you'll fight for your children. That is enough."
Her words solidified his decision. He would burn the world to the ground to protect his family. "I'll come," he said finally. "On one condition. I'm bringing my family with me."
Tony nodded, understanding completely. He tapped his comms unit. "Launch the airship. We're returning."
Inside the luxurious, high-tech aircraft, a stark contrast to their simple home, Logan stood with his family, watching the snowy landscape of Hokkaido disappear below. He turned to Tony, his eyes burning with a familiar fire.
"Where are we going?" he demanded.
"You'll know soon enough," Tony replied.