The confrontation was a raw, brutal testament to unstoppable force meeting an immovable object—with a twist. Logan, a creature of pure combat instinct, landed softly after his acrobatic maneuver, only to realize his tactical shift had been instantly negated. A gust of wind—the Hulk's terrifying speed—swept in, and the green giant was already directly in front of him.
Logan's eyes, narrowed in a predatory squint, immediately focused on the wounds he had inflicted just moments ago. The deep gashes his adamantium claws had sliced into the Hulk's massive torso were not just healing; they were knitting at a visible, phenomenal rate. The deep crimson blood was already retreating, replaced by fresh, rapidly regenerating gamma-powered tissue.
"Damn it! What in the seven hells is this?" Logan cursed under his breath, his feral snarl deepening. "The big guy has regeneration too? Isn't this just cheating? That's my only superpower!"
This was an unfair fight. The Hulk possessed overwhelming, limitless strength coupled with a healing factor that rivaled his own. Logan's only remaining advantage was his two centuries of combat experience, his lethal skill, and his compact, animalistic agility.
As a monstrous fist, the size of a small boulder, whizzed past his head, Logan instinctively tucked his chin, rolled sharply to the spot where Hulk's legs met his massive body, and flipped over the giant's crotch. In one fluid, seamless motion, he sliced out with his steel claws, carving deep furrows into the back of the Hulk's hamstrings.
The difference was immediately apparent. In terms of sheer momentum and brute force, the Hulk was undeniably superior, capable of shattering mountains. But when it came to nuanced movement, balance, and defensive awareness, the Hulk was an angry, clumsy brute. Logan was fighting a monster that punched first and thought... well, never.
"ROOAAAR!" The Hulk roared in pain and profound annoyance, spinning wildly and slamming his massive arm toward the empty space behind him.
But Logan was already gone. He rolled again, exhibiting the lightning-fast reflexes of a seasoned assassin, using the ground as a springboard. He was back on top of the Hulk, using the big guy's own momentum against him.
This time, Logan didn't aim for the legs. He looked at the vast, unprotected landscape of the Hulk's back, his eyes flashing with tactical brilliance. With a grunt of effort, he leaped, throwing his entire body onto the Hulk's broad shoulders, his claws plunging deep.
"Pfft! Tchh!"
Logan's adamantium claws pierced the Hulk's tough dermal layer without encountering the resistance they should have. Even with the Hulk's incredible defense, the surgical sharpness and unbreakable nature of adamantium were too much. The claws found bone, and the Hulk bellowed, a sound of agony mixed with pure, distilled rage.
"RAAAAGH!" The Hulk was enraged and utterly frantic, trying to reach over his own back to grab the pest clinging to him. But Logan was a master of close-quarters fighting. He constantly adjusted his grip, plunging his claws deeper and shifting his body position every half-second. The Hulk's powerful, but surprisingly short and clumsy, arms were completely unable to reach the smaller, lethal mutant stuck to his spine.
In the reinforced underground chamber beneath Xavier's Academy, Jean Grey stood next to the humming Cerebro brainwave enhancement machine. Her head was bowed in concentration, subtly assisting Professor Charles Xavier with his search. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, and her expression went from focused calm to profound alarm.
"What's that noise? That sound... is that a tremor? Hmm? Oh no!" Jean whispered, clutching her head. She had just sensed the seismic shockwave of the ongoing brawl. Her telepathic senses were instantly overwhelmed by two clashing titans: the raw, limitless green rage of the Hulk and the feral, two-hundred-year-old animal instinct of Logan.
"Sigh." Charles, who had just spent several minutes straining his mental capacity using the Cerebro helmet, sighed with exhaustion but also relief. He gently removed the silver device. "I've successfully pinpointed the location of the poor child in trouble, the one Nightcrawler was seeking. But before we mount a rescue, let's calm these two exceptionally hot-tempered individuals down first."
Charles looked toward the stairs, a wry smile on his face. He knew full well that left unchecked, the fight would turn the eastern half of his mansion grounds into a permanent crater.
"Logan, stand down! Stop the fighting immediately!" Charles's calm, commanding voice boomed directly inside Logan's mind, overriding the battle fury and the ringing in his ears.
Logan momentarily paused, the command instantly taking precedence, but he wasn't about to give up his tactical advantage. "Get this big green idiot to stop first! Damn it, look out!"
Just then, the Hulk, completely frustrated at his inability to dislodge the tiny, painful parasite on his back, did the one thing he knew how to do best when cornered: he used his powerful legs. The Hulk leaped, an explosive, tremendous jump that launched both combatants a full hundred meters into the clear blue sky.
The intense feeling of sudden, absolute weightlessness instantly triggered Logan's deeply buried, primal fear of heights—a lingering trauma from his Weapon X days. His muscles locked up, his focus shattered, and he clung to the Hulk's back more out of sheer terror than tactical necessity.
"How can he jump so high?! I hate this!" he screamed mentally.
By the time Charles, Jean Grey, and Cyclops arrived at the sprawling open space of the academy grounds, they looked up to see a shocking sight: a giant green missile, with a smaller, clawed missile glued to its back, hanging at the apex of its arc before beginning an impossibly fast, terrifying freefall.
"What exactly are we supposed to do now? Deploy the anti-gravity nets?" Jean Grey asked, her brow furrowed in concern, her mind already calculating the immense kinetic energy she would need to halt the impact.
"Why even bother, Jean? Just let them crash," Cyclops muttered, shrugging dismissively. He didn't care at all about the immediate danger to Logan or the Hulk, given their established invulnerability. "Neither of them will actually die, they'll just feel a bit of a sting. Maybe the old man will learn his lesson about annoying the faculty."
The truth was, Cyclops was already deeply annoyed by Logan—this older man who always exuded a rugged, mature charm, and who had the audacity to constantly, subtly try to charm his girlfriend, Jean. If Logan took a good, painful landing, Cyclops admitted to himself, he would feel a definite, smug satisfaction.
With a terrifying whoosh! tearing in his ears, and the unbearable, paralyzing weightlessness consuming his body, Logan heard the ground rushing up to meet him. The Hulk, having reached the peak of his trajectory, was now freefalling, his massive back pointed directly toward the academy.
"Jean! Catch me! Now!" Logan yelled, his voice raw with panic, even as his mind screamed. He acted purely on instinct, a life-saving gambit. He kicked the Hulk hard with both feet, instantly retracting the steel claws in his hands. The force of the kick, combined with the retraction, detached him violently from the Hulk's back, sending his smaller body tumbling away, falling slightly faster toward the earth.
Almost immediately, Logan felt a soothing, invisible resistance envelop him. It was a gentle, yet unbelievably powerful telekinetic field that slowed his descent to a manageable, almost floaty pace. Slowly, Logan landed on the ground, completely unharmed, shaking off the residual terror.
Jean Grey, her face somewhat pale from the sheer mental exertion of catching two hundreds of tons of falling mass, stood rigid. She controlled the enormous, enraged body of the Hulk, slowly, deliberately bringing him down to the ground like a feather, preventing him from causing a cataclysmic impact.
"ROAR!" The moment his feet touched the turf, the Hulk was roaring again, his anger redoubled by the feeling of being controlled and the final ignominy of being kicked by the smaller man.
"Mr. Hulk, calm down, please," Charles's calm, reassuring voice rang out, amplified not by technology, but by the subtle use of his powers, reaching directly into the chaotic mind of the beast.
"This is all a misunderstanding rooted in misguided aggression. Let Mr. Bruce Banner come out and talk to us. We will treat the matter with respect and logic, not violence. If that doesn't work, well, then you can certainly come out and eat some more walls!" Charles then added the master stroke. "We've prepared Mr. Hulk's very favorite fruit—the freshest mangoes and pineapple we could find. Once this misunderstanding is resolved…"
"Hulk! Fruit!" The giant responded, the thought of his favorite treat—a recent concession that Charles had negotiated with the calmer Banner personality—cutting through the rage. His massive green body slowly shrank and shifted, reverting back to the appearance of Dr. Bruce Banner, who now stood utterly exposed, shirtless, with his remaining pants in tatters around his ankles.
"Professor Charles, I sincerely apologize. I've caused you enormous trouble," Bruce Banner said, now able to share some of the Hulk's recent, hazy memories of the initial confrontation. He looked at Charles apologetically, then sheepishly toward Logan. "However, he was being incredibly disrespectful to a respected elder like yourself, which triggered the response. My apologies."
"No, Mr. Bruce, you are mistaken, though it is kind of you to defend me," Charles smiled kindly and shook his head. "He is the elder. Judging by his actual age, Logan is almost two centuries old. He is quite literally old enough to be my great-grandfather."
Bruce Banner looked genuinely stunned. Logan just smirked.
"Now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, let's go inside together. Logan, you're here anyway. Since you were looking for us, you might as well join the mission. You can go with Scott and Jean to find that lost child we just located."
"You sure know how to order people around, Baldo," Logan grumbled, but there was no real malice in his tone. He gave Charles a mock glare, then turned his gaze back to Bruce Banner. "So, are you a mutant too? I think I've seen your face on the news a few times, usually followed by an explosion or a containment unit."
"I am not a mutant, but my current situation and abilities are certainly similar to that of mutants," Bruce Banner shook his head, a hint of deep-seated weariness in his eyes. He then gave Logan a formal, though tattered, bow. "I apologize again for the misjudgment and the violence. I clearly misunderstood the situation."
"You're really too polite. You're a completely different person from that big green menace just now!" Logan said, looking Bruce Banner up and down with genuine surprise.
"I wasn't going to be this polite at first, but I have to learn to be," Bruce Banner replied, his smile somewhat bitter. He looked at Charles, a flicker of hope overriding the shame. "As compensation for this disruption, please count me in on the operation to find the child. Hulk's strength should prove useful, and I owe you a favor."
"If you make a public move, Bruce, I'm afraid the government forces and military groups that captured you before will make their move again. They will know you are here," Charles warned gently.
"Isn't that precisely why Professor Charles is here?" Bruce Banner countered, his voice gaining a quiet resolve. A hint of longing flashed in his eyes. "If I can show up openly, even just once, I can finally go see Betty… I can't hide forever."
"Betty? Your daughter?" Logan asked, unable to resist a bit of prying, looking Bruce Banner up and down with a teasing smile.
"My girlfriend, actually!" Bruce Banner's lips twitched, and he sighed with some exasperation. "Though given my condition, I've certainly put her through enough to qualify as her very stressed-out parent."
"What a devoted young man," a genuine smile finally appeared on Logan's lips. He let his gaze drift over to Jean Grey, whose complexion had fully recovered and was now radiating a powerful, controlled calm. "Jean, thank you for the lift, sweetheart. You saved my bacon and, honestly, my stomach lining. You looked stunning doing it, too."
"Alright, we should be getting moving! We have a mission, Logan!" Cyclops immediately stepped between Jean Grey and Logan, his face flushed with poorly suppressed anger. His hand instinctively went to his glasses, and his optic blasts felt hot behind the ruby quartz. He looked like he was ready to deploy lethal force if Logan dared to try and flirt with his girlfriend one more time.
"You two are about as compatible as oil and a burning dumpster fire, kid. You should dump him," Logan shook his head with a confident, knowing smile, and then, for good measure, patted Cyclops forcefully on the shoulder, a gesture of patronizing maturity. He then strolled ahead, walking into the Xavier Academy. "Believe me, I'm a man who has lived for almost two hundred years. My eyesight is absolutely excellent when it comes to reading people."
"Tch! Just a tired old guy who leaves his seed everywhere he goes!" Cyclops slapped his shoulder with profound annoyance, aggressively brushing away Logan's handprint. His voice was laced with impotent fury as he watched Logan swagger off. "One day, Logan, you'll reap what you sow, and I hope I'm there to watch it!"