Amelia raced through the streets, her pulse quickening as her mind raced with dread. The city was quiet now, the sun dipping lower on the horizon, casting long shadows through the streets. She couldn't shake the knot of anxiety in her chest, the gnawing fear that Logan had already found Scott. Her worst fear wasn't that Logan would kill Scott—no, she knew Logan would never go that far—but she feared what would happen if they fought. Scott wouldn't back down, and Logan wouldn't relent.
She stopped, taking a deep breath, scanning the empty streets around her. There was no sign of either of them. She didn't have time to waste; they could be anywhere by now. Please, let me find them before it's too late.
Stepping into an alley, Amelia glanced around once more, making sure she was alone. Then, with a deep breath, she let her body dissolve into mist. The sensation was familiar, comforting even, as her form became lighter, dispersing into a cloud that floated through the alley and out into the open air. She had to cover more ground, and this was the only way to do it quickly.
As she moved, her misty form drifted through the city streets, expanding outward as she searched desperately for any trace of Scott or Logan. Her mind raced as she imagined the possible scenarios—a confrontation between Scott and Logan could go horribly wrong. She knew Scott was strong, capable, but Logan? Logan was something else entirely. If they fought, Scott could get seriously hurt.
Where are you, Scott?
-X-
Scott's optic blasts streaked through the air, red beams of energy cutting through the space between him and Logan. But Logan kept coming, his movements quick, precise, as he dodged and tanked the blasts with an almost inhuman resilience. Scott gritted his teeth, focusing, trying to find the right angle, the perfect shot to slow Logan down. Each hit sent Logan stumbling back, but he recovered almost instantly, his healing factor working overtime to shrug off the damage.
Scott was keeping his distance, using the advantage of range to avoid the inevitable close-quarters confrontation. He knew Logan was better than him in hand-to-hand combat, and he was determined to avoid that at all costs. His optic blasts were powerful, his aim precise, but Logan was relentless. No matter how many times Scott knocked him back, he just kept coming.
Another blast hit Logan square in the chest, sending him skidding back a few feet. But within seconds, Logan was moving again, claws gleaming in the dim light as he charged forward. Scott fired another series of blasts, rapid-fire, trying to keep Logan at bay. But Logan ducked and weaved, moving faster than Scott could anticipate, closing the distance with every second.
He's getting too close. Scott's heart raced as he realized he wouldn't be able to keep Logan back forever. The blasts were effective, but Logan's speed and ferocity were pushing Scott to his limit.
With a final surge of energy, Scott unleashed a wide blast, sweeping across the ground in front of Logan. The blast threw up dirt and debris, creating a temporary barrier between them. Scott used the moment to catch his breath, but he knew it wouldn't last long.
Logan growled, pushing through the cloud of dust with little regard for the obstacles in his path. "You can't keep runnin', kid," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.
Scott's mind raced as he tried to come up with a new plan. He had been avoiding close combat for a reason—Logan's experience, his skill, his healing factor—it all made him a nearly unbeatable opponent in a brawl. But Scott was running out of options. He couldn't keep blasting Logan back and hoping for the best. The fight needed to end, and Scott knew that avoiding Logan forever wasn't going to work.
If I'm going to win, I need to change tactics.
With a quick decision, Scott made his move. Instead of retreating further, he rushed forward, catching Logan off guard with his sudden change in strategy. Logan, expecting another optic blast from a distance, wasn't prepared for Scott to close the gap.
Scott drove his knee into Logan's ribs with a sharp, precise strike. The force of the blow made Logan grunt, the impact pushing him back. Without missing a beat, Scott followed up with a powerful elbow to the side of Logan's head. The hit landed cleanly, snapping Logan's head to the side.
For the first time in the fight, Scott felt like he had the upper hand.
Scott didn't let up. He moved fluidly, striking with elbows, knees, and open palm strikes—techniques designed to avoid the risk of punching Logan's adamantium-coated skeleton. He mixed his strikes with quick optic blasts, each one adding to the pressure he was putting on Logan.
Logan grunted as Scott landed another hit, his knee slamming into Logan's midsection, followed by a rapid burst of energy from his eyes. The force of the blast knocked Logan back, sending him stumbling for the first time.
I can do this.
But Logan was nothing if not resilient. He recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted to Scott's new tempo. The brief advantage Scott had gained began to slip away as Logan countered, his claws flashing as he moved in with renewed aggression.
Scott blocked one of Logan's strikes, twisting his arm into a joint lock, but Logan broke free with brute strength, shoving Scott back with a powerful blow. The two engaged in a chaotic flurry of strikes and counters, their movements fast and precise as they fought for control.
Scott managed to land a few more hits—an elbow to Logan's jaw, a knee to his ribs—but Logan wasn't slowing down. He adapted to Scott's new strategy, closing in with quick, powerful strikes of his own. Scott dodged and blocked as best he could, but Logan's ferocity was overwhelming.
Logan swung his claws, narrowly missing Scott's face as he ducked under the attack. Scott retaliated with a quick optic blast to Logan's side, but Logan powered through the hit, his momentum unrelenting.
In a desperate move, Scott grappled with Logan, twisting his arm into another lock and driving his knee into Logan's gut. Logan grunted, but didn't break, instead using his claws to slice through Scott's defenses, forcing Scott to release the hold.
The two fighters were locked in a brutal exchange, neither one gaining a clear advantage, but Scott could feel the tide turning. Logan's strength and experience were becoming more and more apparent with each passing second. Scott was holding his own, landing hits and keeping Logan off balance, but he was also wearing down. Every hit Logan took, he recovered from. Every strike Scott landed was met with an equally powerful counter.
Then, with a swift, calculated move, Logan broke through Scott's defenses. His claws flashed, and before Scott could react, Logan slammed his fist into Scott's midsection with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Scott staggered, his body reeling from the impact, and Logan followed up with a powerful kick that sent Scott crashing to the ground.
Scott hit the ground hard, pain shooting through his body as he gasped for breath. He tried to push himself up, but his muscles felt sluggish, his energy depleted from the relentless fight.
"You're good, kid," Logan said, his voice gruff as he stood over Scott, his claws gleaming in the dim light. "But good ain't good enough."
Scott's jaw clenched, his eyes burning with frustration. He looked up at Logan, his mind racing with anger and defeat. He had fought so hard, pushed himself so far, but it still wasn't enough. Logan was right—he was good, but good wasn't enough to beat someone like Logan.
Logan's expression remained firm as he looked down at Scott. "Come back to the mansion, kid. This doesn't have to go any further."
But Scott wasn't listening. His mind was a storm of frustration and anger, his fists clenched as he gripped the dirt beneath him. He couldn't win this fight. He wasn't strong enough. He had tried to distance himself from Cyclops, to forge his own path, but now he was faced with the harsh reality that he still wasn't on that level. He wasn't even close.
But Cyclops might have a chance. A slim one. But it's all I have left.
The thought hit him like a cold wave, cutting through the haze of frustration. He had been trying so hard to distance himself from the part of him that was Cyclops, but now? Now he needed it. If he was going to win, if he was going to survive this fight, he needed to let Cyclops take over.
With a deep breath, Scott let go of the resistance he had been holding onto. He let Cyclops' instincts rise to the surface, letting that part of him take control. A calm washed over him, his focus sharpening as he prepared for what came next.
Scott's hand shot down to the ground, grabbing a handful of loose dirt. In one swift motion, he spun, throwing the dirt into Logan's face. Logan recoiled, momentarily blinded, and Scott used the opening to unleash a powerful optic blast directly at Logan's chest.
The force of the blast sent Logan flying back, crashing through trees and snapping branches as his body was hurled through the forest. Scott got to his feet, his eyes glowing with energy as he stared in the direction Logan had been thrown.
He knew it wouldn't be enough to put Logan down for good.
Scott took a deep breath, his body steady, his mind clear. He couldn't run. Logan would keep coming after him, again and again. The only way to stop this was to finish the fight. Once and for all.
With resolve hardening inside him, Scott began to march forward, heading toward the spot where Logan had landed. His optic blasts were ready, his focus unwavering. He wasn't just fighting Logan anymore—he was fighting for his future, for the right to carve out his own path. For the right to be his own person.
The fight wasn't over. Not yet.
And Scott was ready to finish it.