The human psyche was such a perplexing thing sometimes. Decades upon decades of research and yet we barely scratch the surface. We could send a man to the moon, calculate the exact distance from any point on the planet to the sun, and edit the genes of our own food as we please, and yet we don't even have a clue on how our own mind and body functions.

Truly, humanity was a strange species if there ever was one.

Director Zander Rice wasn't sure what to make of his latest little pet project. Oh, sure, he had expected the screams. There was always a bit of pain that came with the territory. What he didn't expect was for the screams to evolve into a series of... Of bestial roars and hoots and a thousand other voices mixing and resonating.

He didn't even understand how such a sound was possibly produced from a human's throat and before now he was quite certain it was impossible. It was as if they had entered an animal exhibit form hell. The expert he had hired, one Mr. Mastermind, and God if he didn't want to tell the man of just how idiotic he thought the name he insisted on being called was, had quickly retreated as soon as the noises began.

"What's going on? What did you do?"

"I-I I don't know! I just- I only did what you asked me too! Just a standard memory alternation, this shouldn't have happened!"

But it was, and both men realized as they were looking at each other that neither understood what the hell was happening. Quick is why they did the smart thing in the situation. They sent a grunt down there to check it out.

"... Try poking him."

... Seriously? That's your brilliant plan? The looks on the other scientists' faces all indicated what they were thinking, but as Dr. Rice didn't say anything contrary nobody else dared to speak up.

The soldier sent into the room shook like a leaf in a hurricane as he approached the now thrashing boy, using the nose of his machine gun to gentle prod the boy once before jumping 3 feet backward ready to unleash a storm of lead. Nothing happened...

Suddenly a different kind of screeching could be heard inside the control room, this time of a mechanical origin. The heart monitor had just... Flatlined, but everyone could see that the Boy was decided not dead.

"How interesting! Hurry, gather some people and see if we can't get a proper sample this time, and someone find me a proper damn psychic this time!"

Mastermind's cry of outrage at the insult was cut short along with his life when the director signaled to a guard to shoot the aged man. Perhaps the old mutant's DNA could prove to be of some actual use than the person himself?

The more they push and prod him the more Andrew had ended up withdrawing inside himself. And as the man went to sleep the beasts were unleashed. Thousands upon thousands of animalistic minds lashed out in anger, slowly breaking away some of his mental restraints not unlike a certain not so jolly giant.

His form stayed the same but the pilot was something else entirely.

He was scared and tired of it all, but he still remembered the promise he made before he entered this hellhole and so he had ensured even as he let go of the reins that somethings were still off-limits. Nobody could get his DNA, ever, and making clones was strictly forbidden.

The more of him there was lying around the more likely something could go wrong.

They acknowledged the order as the prince of the forest went to sleep and the animals watched over him.

"Shit- he's gone feral! Watch out!"

"Hurry up and- no, no, no, no, no! Stay away!"

"Help! Open this door. Open it! Now! Open this goddamn fucking door right the hell now, I swear to God- No, please, let me in, save me!"

They've been starving for oh so long, and it would seem some fresh meat had just decided to come by and play.

Fantastic. Incredible. Spectacular.

He didn't know which word to use as he stared at the sheer carnage happening on the monitor. Whatever that thing was in the sealed chamber was something of a marvel. A natural, living, biological weapon. Something that they had been working on endlessly for years and decades, was literally found and picked off the streets.

If he was a religious man he might've found it a bit humbling.

Still, he was curious as he watched the cannibalistic boy quite literally tear apart his men as if they were wet tissue paper. Which was better? This force of nature, this brutish wild mutt, or their own trained and genetically modified bloodhound?

Sarah Kinney bit the inside of her cheeks so hard that she could taste the tang of blood on her tongue, yet she had to make sure all of her anxiety and heartache wouldn't show on her face or else they would remove her from the program. She and two others were tasked with monitoring X-23's mission progress. The girl had done just as she was trained.

Cold, ruthless, efficient.

Greg didn't suspect a thing when the cute little girl approached him for an autograph. He didn't even realize that he was dead until she yanked out her claws from under his jaws and kicked his body into his bodyguards. None of them lasted more than a second against the genetically engineered assassin. Bullets were either deflected by her blades or outright ignored as the entree wounds sealed themselves the moment the projectiles passed through her.

The unlucky ones amongst the crowd were simply part of the casualty from being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Victims of panicked stray shots or the girl's deadly claws. The only lucky survivors were the reporters at the event. It was clear she left them alive on purpose.

As a message, as a method to announce to the world that she existed.

That there was a new assassin on the market and she was the best of the best. Dr. Kinney almost found it humorous how an assassin would be so high profile instead of the traditional cloak and daggers.

Well, sans cloak at least, because the Adamantine claws were far more dangerous than any other mundane blade.

But what did she know? She was just a scientist, not a businesswoman. She did as she was ordered and got funding to continue her research, what did she care if these government hacks were profiteering off of death and innocent blood?

Yet as her green eyes staring into a pair so similar to her own she couldn't help the small pang of guilt she felt towards the child. She knew what she had signed up for when she joined the Weapon X program, and she really had nobody to blame considering it was her idea and that she even took the initiative to do it without permission, but... Watching the girl she spent 9 months carrying and taking care of the first 3 years being turned into an emotionless tool for other's deranged ambition...

She knew that she was going to hell like the rest of the human trash working here. She was a failure as a person and a mother.

But she was going to make up for it, even if it was far too late to ever earn forgiveness, even if she died. She'd right the wrongs of her arrogance even if it killed her. Even if it killed everyone here. Nobody was innocent in this hellhole.

"Get him!"

"He's too fast, we need back up!"

A dark shadow jumped through the window and crashed amongst the 6 soldiers, they didn't have time to react before they were all bisected. As a stream of bullets came from another corner of the room the gunfire lit up the room enough to reveal Wolverine in an all-black version of his costume, the only thing missing was the traditional symbols of the X-men. He didn't want to tarnish what they stood for with his actions, because he wasn't out to be a hero like them. He was a monster that ate other monsters.

With a guttural growl he charged through them, his Adamantium claws and skeleton ensured that he was all but unstoppable.

"I got your back up right here, dumbass!" An armored humvee sped towards them all. There was a group providing suppressive fire on the enraged mutant as the large hunk of metal on wheels gunned it towards him. The smirk on the driver's face as he prepared to squash the enemy was suddenly stopped cold as Wolverine bent his knees before jumping right as the car passed by.

His claws dug into the front of the hood as he used it to pivot his body and swung himself around into the driver's seat, crashing through the bulletproof reinforced glass as if it wasn't even there.

Needless to say, the former driver's head shattered under the combined momentum and weight of the man's knee.

Within a moment he tossed the corpse's body to the side and used his hijacked ride to wreck havoc on their formations. That was until he found his target. He sliced open the door and jumped out just before they crashed. He knew it wouldn't keep the man down long and he was right as seconds after the impact the remains of the vehicle was tossed straight at him.

"Creed! How about you tell me where the boy is, and I might consider letting you go with both legs this time."

The man didn't seem overly concerned with the dark tone Wolverine had as he rolled his shoulders and idly cracked his neck. He spat a broken tooth on the ground before smiling widely at the other man.

"Ah, Runt! When did you get here? Sorry about that, I didn't see you there, what with you being so short an all."

The former Weapon X didn't take kindly too the man's attitude. Ever since that night over a year ago Logan had relentlessly searched everywhere. He didn't want to worry the others but he did, in fact, find a clue. His old "friend" Victor Creed. The man's scent was unmistakable to his keen senses, but he knew damn well the man was too good to make such a sloppy mistake.

It was a taunt. A mocking challenge and bait.

He was all but too happy to bite the line, readying his fangs to drag the arrogant fishermen down under into his domain.

"Enough games, tell me where he is!"

"I see you haven't changed at all, Wolverine, that's the name you go by nowadays right? But we both know you can never change who, and what, you are. Your temper's as short as you are, and we both know what happens when animals like us get... Angry now, don't we?"

Seeing how pointless the conversation was Wolverine charged towards the other man, intent on beating the answers out of him. The two men's fight soon devolved into a wild struggle of animalistic rage and aggression even as the building started collapsing around them from the aftermath.

Wolverine groaned in pain as he woke up. He felt all sorts of sore and groggy and his head was just killing him. His X-Communicator being a stupid piece of shit with its high pitched beeping wasn't helping.

"What is it?"

"Woah, what's the matter with you? Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, Logan?"

The man simpled turned on the camera and showed the area. The debris still burning, his bloody and tattered suit, and the fact that he was laying inside a large crater.

"... Right, sorry, my bad."

"Just get to the point, Summers."

It was far too early for this and he was far too sober to deal with having a conversation and his pounding headache. He made have grown a bit taller and some chest hair, but the kid's voice was still far too high pitch for his tastes with his enhanced hearing.

"I just wanted to check up on you. Jean and Ororo are worried because you missed your usual monthly update."

"I still haven't found him yet." He grunted out his answer harshly with a hint of anger, but they both knew it was directed more towards himself and his lack of success than the younger boy.

"... You know that isn't the only thing we're concerned about, Logan. You're as much a part of our team as he is. It's ok for you to come back now, you've tried your best and nobody, especially Andrew, would blame you for it."

The man gave a weary sigh as he felt as if all the years of his considerable age hit him all at once, but he was nothing if not as enduring and stubborn as his body was.

"Thanks, kid. I'll... try to visit more often," Scott somehow managed to send a skeptical look towards the man even with his sunglasses on. "I mean it! Anyways if that's all I gotta go." He couldn't waste any more time before any S.H.I.E.L.D or Facility goons come sniffing around. Especially after he and Sabretooth wrecked one of the latter's base. They must be pretty peeved at him considering he has been hunting them down whenever he could. Now if only he could find a damn bus to take him to the airport, his next lead was in Okawa, Japan and there was no way he was going to take a boat there from California.

"Good, I'll take your word for it and you make sure to take care of yourself, Logan."

"You too, Sport. You too."

As soon as the line ended he quickly go up and raced through the woods, the helicopters would arrive soon and he wasn't looking forward to staying around to see which agency the punks were from. Sabretooth was always his physical superior but he managed to fight him until now by relying on his superior regeneration and his indestructible claws and bones. Now that the madman had undergone a similar procedure he'd need a trump card, and he knew just where to get it.

It was a good thing that the object he was thinking off happened to also be in Japan somewhere.