American Comics : God Of Avengers

The hum of the vehicle's engine echoed in the cold night air as Donald turned to Dr. Les, brows furrowed with frustration. "Doctor, we've lost track of X-24. What's our next move?"

Dr. Les didn't answer immediately. He was still staring at the dim glow of the horizon, jaw clenched. After a long pause, he finally said, "I've already reported the loss to headquarters. The intelligence division is attempting to track his location."

Donald nodded slowly. "So... do we wait for them to get back to us before pursuing? Or do we focus on tracking down X-23 first?"

Dr. Les took a deep breath, his voice cold and resolute. "Who knows how long it'll take them to get results. We can't afford to waste time. We move on X-23 now."

He turned to Donald again, this time with added sharpness. "And issue a formal request to the company — they're to launch a full investigation into Steve Rogers."

Donald's eyes widened slightly. "Rogers? You think he's involved in this?"

Dr. Les didn't even blink. "Who else could pull off something like this and vanish without a trace? EMPs, genetic containment, misdirection — all of it points to a strategic mind, military precision. We're dealing with a professional. A ghost. And Rogers fits the profile perfectly."

Donald didn't argue. He turned to the driver and barked, "Take us north. Head toward Eden."

"Understood," the driver replied.

The engine roared, and the car surged forward, racing toward the border.

—

Meanwhile...

Nathan's motorcycle was speeding in the opposite direction — toward a coastal city in the east. Both sides were moving rapidly, but unknowingly away from one another, the distance between predator and prey growing larger with every passing second.

The night sky above was pitch black, no stars, no moon — only the rhythmic thrum of tires on asphalt and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.

On a remote road leading north, another vehicle moved quietly, a battered pickup truck cruising through the dead silence.

At the wheel sat Logan, the former Wolverine — scarred, weary, and utterly defeated. His face was gaunt, his eyes hollow. He didn't even seem to notice the road ahead; he just stared forward into the abyss, his hands gripping the wheel with the strength of habit, not purpose.

In the passenger seat sat X-23, also known as Laura, her face smeared with dirt and dried blood. Her sharp, feline eyes glinted faintly in the dark, watching the woods pass by in silence.

Technically, she was Logan's daughter, a genetic copy built from his DNA. A living weapon like him — but younger, angrier, and not yet broken.

After minutes of silence, Laura finally spoke.

"When you were fighting earlier," she said quietly, "I saw someone... in the bushes."

Logan didn't respond.

Laura continued. "Before Charles died, I heard his voice in my head. He said someone was there. Someone without hostility."

Logan's knuckles tightened slightly around the wheel.

"He said that person... might be the key to the future of mutants."

Laura paused for a moment, then looked out the window.

"I saw him, I think. Not clearly. But he didn't look scared. He wasn't angry either. He just looked calm."

That got Logan's attention.

He finally turned to glance at her, eyes narrowed. "Did Charles say who it was?"

Laura nodded once.

"Nathan."

A name that meant nothing to Logan... but somehow carried weight in the air. Like it belonged in a story not yet written — but already looming.

—

Hours later, in another part of the country…

Donald and his team had intercepted a new vehicle sent by Essex and were now tracking X-23 using overhead drones. Through the screen, they could see Laura and several other young mutant children walking through a wooded trail, moving quickly toward the Canadian border.

Logan was nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like the old man let them go on ahead," Donald muttered.

Dr. Les leaned closer to the drone feed and narrowed his eyes. "They're trying to cross. They think Canada is safe."

Donald turned toward Les with new intel in hand. "I just received an update from the company. Steve Rogers has disappeared completely. No sightings, no digital trail, no surveillance. It's like he vanished."

Dr. Les exhaled deeply. "Then there's no doubt. The person who intercepted X-24 was Rogers. He's in hiding, suppressing his identity."

His voice dropped into a growl. "Keep monitoring. The moment Rogers resurfaces — we go after him."

Donald nodded.

"Understood."

Then Les pointed at the monitor again. "But for now... let's deal with those mutant brats."

He grabbed his rifle and shouted, "Move out!"

—

As the team stormed into the woods, weapons drawn and bullets loaded, they closed in on the defenseless children. Laura looked back — and her eyes widened.

The mercenaries had already started firing.

But before the kids could scatter—

A blur of motion tore through the trees.

A beast. A man. A legend.

Wolverine.

Injected with the last vial of mutant serum, Logan had regained the vitality of his youth — if only temporarily. His movements were lightning-fast, primal.

Steel claws erupted from his fists, and with a snarl, he dove into the enemy ranks.

Slashing. Tearing. Ripping through bulletproof vests like paper.

Helmets cracked. Blood flew. Screams echoed.

Logan's body was a whirlwind of destruction. Fueled by rage, grief, and duty, he ripped through the mercenary squad like a man possessed.

Within minutes, the children were safe, the threat neutralized.

Logan, his body soaked in blood and sweat, caught up with Laura and the others.

"Let's move," he grunted. "We don't have much time."

The kids followed him without question, weaving through the trees and heading toward the border tunnel.

—

Standing at the tunnel entrance, Logan paused.

He looked at his hands, still stained crimson, and extended them. With a soft metallic sound, his adamantium claws slid out.

He stared at them.

The weapons that had defined him.

The tools of his torment.

"Maybe... it's time to put these away," he murmured.

He turned, leading the mutant children into the tunnel — into Canada, into safety.

This time, Logan didn't die.

This time, he lived.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd learn how to do that again.

—

In the distance, Dr. Les watched the last glimpse of Wolverine's silhouette vanish into the tunnel.

His fists clenched.

His jaw trembled.

"We had him. We HAD HIM."

"We had X-24 — we had control!"

His eyes darkened, burning with hatred.

"Damn you, Rogers. This is your fault."

He stood in the car, trembling with rage.

"You ruined everything!"

His voice echoed into the night, but it reached no one.

Only the stars above bore witness to his fury.

—

Elsewhere, on a quiet road…

A black car sped down the highway.

Tied securely on its roof was a familiar motorcycle — one that had recently torn through the countryside.

Inside the car sat Nathan, face calm beneath his dark mask. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel in rhythm with the music playing low on the stereo.

He had ditched the motorcycle.

It was too conspicuous, especially with a paralyzed X-24 strapped behind him. Stealing a car from a gang halfway through the journey had been a practical move.

On the passenger seat lay a laptop, and on the screen was a paused search window.

Nathan had been looking into something.

Or someone.

The name "Essex Corporation – Key Figures" was still in the search bar.

He scrolled through profiles.

Faces. Names. Affiliations.

He was getting closer.

The deeper he dug, the more the pieces of the puzzle began to align.

There was someone behind Essex.

Someone big.

Someone dangerous.

And Nathan was going to find them.

And when he did?

He'd burn their empire to the ground.

___________________________________

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