18 Chapter 18: History, Parallels, Legacy

Bronte's day-- as full as it was dangerous, was coming to an end. After spending another handful of hours acclimating himself to living life as a Mutant, learning their history, obstacles, and training which turned into a deadly battle... and journey into a separate dimension. He learned one thing.

He had Magic in him. As if the thought of becoming an infinitely regenerating, bone-claw, metal summoning, weather manipulating Mutant wasn't enough. Magic was now another thing held within his veins, hailing from whatever chaotic union was made up of his birth parents. A union that now had the X-Men watching him the same way Illyana once did.

Suspicion. Discomfort. He didn't know Cyclops, but there was something more to him when he watched. Bronte could almost feel it radiating from the cold and calculating man as he was ushered out of the training area by Laura and the others.

And that was how the chaos was concluded. Transferring of worlds, discovery of more of his own mysteries, the return. And then the departure from what looked to be the beginnings of a war shown in the Feral Mutants versus the X-Men. Hank was able to get the others away barely.

It was all so intense it almost felt like a fever dream as Bronte sat in the Hank's Lab... for the millionth time. It seemed whenever he had free time he was in Hank's lab being studied... and entering the Limbo Dimension seemed to make Hank study him even more aggressively. Luckily, it wasn't all that boring. Hank was like a walking encyclopedia of stories, experiences and facts. Didn't take much to get him talking.

Something he thought about as Hank jabbed a needle into his arm.

"So....." Bronte mumbled, the awkwardness and shock of the days events had kept the two from talking for the first twenty minutes in the lab, making the all-white and metallic silver room feel more cramped by the second.

"Sixty beats..... height and weight have both risen, reaction to light and other visual stimuli remains acute...." Hank mumbled off to himself, as usual.

Bronte coughed loudly, "SO..."

Hank stopped his examinations and pulled the needle from Bronte's arms before adjusting his glasses with a sigh, "So...."

"What a day, huh?"

Hank nodded, "What a day indeed, Bronte. How are you feeling?"

Bronte waved him off and made a face as if he smelled fresh roadkill, "Cmon, blue! This ain't therapy. Talk to me like we're boys. Help me find some sort of normal in all this...."

Hank looked perplexed for a moment before looking down to the vile of Bronte's blood and flicking it with a finger thicker than a bratwurst, "It isn't therapy, but it is an overall evaluation and study. Also, I'm your professor."

"Really...?" Bronte said before adding, "You also have hands for feet and blue skin, the dynamics have been changed a bit, come on now."

Hank chuckled to himself and walked off to place a date stamp on the blood sample and study it under a microscope.

"Alright..." He conceded, "Today was quite messy."

"How was the Limbo Dimension?" He asked while swinging through the lab on the bars and beams that hung from the ceiling, sometimes using his hands, other times using his feet.....or second hands?

"It looked like a grunge rock album cover to be honest." Bronte said, trying to make light of the hideous experience.

Hank laughed-- albeit a bit nervously, before replying, "Such an oddly accurate comparison.."

"I'm saying..." Bronte replied with a fading chuckle.

The awkwardness returned and the room became so silent he could hear Raze and Gabbie goofing around on the other side of the massive black glass spread across the far wall. He could also feel Laura's gaze.

"Yea, so how was it on the outside?" Bronte asked, in reference to what transpired on the outside world.

"Tense as a cramped muscle, I'm afraid." Hank replied while shuffling through cabinets and cupboards.

"Word..... I actually heard some of it. Mostly Laura and Cyclops."

Hank nodded, "They have a bit of..... history."

"How so?" Bronte asked.

Hank stayed silent for a moment, seeming to weigh his options before he finally settled with speaking, "I suppose you should know these things, It's your siblings afterall.... and maybe one day you'll feel that word for them in ways you can't even describe."

He was silent before placing himself back on track, "Anyway. It started with one... this hunting campaign for the Successor of Romulus and the Feral Mutants. It started with Laura. Romulus wanted Laura as badly as he once hunted your father-- Wolverine. Back when she was just a young girl, raised as an assassin, living off the streets after escaping such an atrocious life. Then she was found by us..... well no. She attacked Captain America and was later given to us."

"Man, what?!" Bronte was thrown off by the violent change in the story.

"Long story." Hank replied before continuing as he worked on his studies away from Bronte, "Once she made it to The Xavier Institute, she found friendship for the first time. She found a home, and even a possible purpose. She was too young to know that the first two Lupine attacks were meant to retrieve her, too young to know why there were always members of the X-Men stationed to watch her.... or even why the young and handsome leader, Cyclops, was so interested in her. Training her, teaching her what it meant to be a Mutant and for the cause, making her feel special...."

Hank sounded truly sad. Bronte felt sad himself, "He was.... indoctrinating her?"

Hank half nodded before writing something down on a paper, "...There's an argument to be made there. You see, Scott is..... to put it simply, purpose driven like very few others. The goal is what matters. Reaching it is paramount to Scott. You could say he's a.... Cyclops, in the way he sees one thing. The finish line."

"I don't understand..." Bronte said.

"Naturally. What I mean to say is, Scott's purpose is Mutant liberation from the hatred and prejudice of man. To create, peace and harmony between us both... sometimes I wonder how far he'll go to attain such a future."

"So.... he wanted Laura to help him with that?"

Hank nodded.

"Why Laura?"

"Because Laura is the daughter of Wolverine. And as opposing of forces as Scott and Logan were, Scott knew Logan's power. He knew the Wolverine was as close to a Mutant symbol as one could get. The only problem was, Wolv-- Logan, was a complicated man. He was the opposite of Scott in many ways. Scott was and is, cold, methodical, pragmatic. Logan had other....stronger characteristics. He was deeply tortured by the demons of his past... sentimental, full of heart, and drowned in rage. And most importantly, he didn't care for the political war raging between man and Mutant. He wouldn't be Cyclops' pawn."

"Not like how Laura could...." Bronte quickly caught on.

Hank nodded, "She was young..... eager for love and care that she so seriously lacked for years. Did Scott take advantage on purpose, I wouldn't put it past him. He's calculative, it's what makes him such a great leader."

"Obviously that shit ain't work..." Bronte mumbled, remembering the sight of Laura growling madly at Cyclops.

"Obviously. He was still young as a leader-- he messed up. After the second attack, Laura overheard why they'd been attacking. And suddenly, the very place she called home was now in danger because of her presence. Many people died in the attacks-- people Laura cared for. And she believes it all could've been avoided if she left sooner. She would've left to hunt the man down by herself if she had to. But, Cyclops wouldn't let her go."

"He needed to create his symbol...." Bronte filled in.

"In the wake of Wolverines death, you could feel Mutant progress slipping through the hands of relevance. To him it wasn't needed, it was required. And to be frank, I think he'd let more fall in pursuit of that very thing. A few to save the rest sort of thing...."

"That's crazy morbid..." Bronte commented.

"Yea, Laura felt the same way. She also suddenly harbored a hatred for the very man she once viewed under a halo of sorts..... the same man who was now imprisoning her in a place where she'd possibly have to watch more of her friends fade while the X-Men balanced searching for significant compounds belonging to Romulus, and all the other worlds worries."

"So she got busy...." Bronte concluded.

"Very busy." Hank replied, exaggerating the very, "There's more than one reason Scott keeps his visor on."

Bronte cringed, "Damn...."

"And then she was gone for about two years, reports of her sightings showed up all over. Canada, California, upstate New York, Mexico. She was on the hunt. Then, she came back, with an unstable lab experiment-- a literal Chimera, and a previous hitman of Romulus."

Bronte's ears perked up at Hank's final words.

"Here's a hint, he's the one training you in combat." Hank explained.

"...Daken... worked for Romulus?"

"I'm pretty sure Daken's entire existence is thanks to Romulus."

Silence followed until Hank suddenly rose from his seat and swung over to Bronte using the bars on the ceiling, his white tight-fit Lab coat fluttered in the wind like a cape.

"Well, now you know why he's the one who teaches you..... he knows the most." Hank added with a nervous chuckle before signaling for Bronte to raise his arm and bring out his claws.

Bronte did so as he replied, "What made him change sides?"

Hank brought out a blow torch, "None of us know for sure."

Then, the flames burst to life. Bronte jumped momentarily before relaxing in the presence of the focused stream of heat. Thoughts of Daken and his past faded as the heat rose.... but they never completely disappeared....

He watched it continue to heat the organic metal shrouding his bone claws, turning the silvery sheen to a hot red. After a few minutes all three claws glowed a flaming red entirely. Bronte was afraid the metal would melt any second.

"Alright now, Hank...Hank?....HANK!"

Hank jumped awkwardly and removed the torch, "Sorry...hehe." He grumbled before grabbing a meter of sorts and aiming it at Bronte's superheated claws.

"I see...."

"You see what?" Bronte asked.

"This organic metal coating your claws.... it has the highest melting point I've ever seen. It's even higher than Tungsten."

Bronte looked at him with a confused expression, "Is that good?"

"It's synergy." Hank said matter of factly before he began rummaging through his cabinets to find what appeared to be a taser.

"Man, why do you even have that-- OH!" Bronte shouted as Hank stuck the taser to Bronte's claws.

No shock. Only a steady vibration as the electrical sparking currents pulsed around his heated claws.

"They're also extreme electrical conductors."

"Isn't all metal?" Bronte asked as he waved his claws through the air as if it were a flashy glowstick.

"Not like that. It wasn't even like that a week ago...." Hank replied.

"What does it mean?"

Hank went back across the room to work with his notes, "I think it means, your mutant abilities are synergizing with one another..... it's almost like you have a form of onset Heterosis."

"Heto-- what?"

Hank looked up from his studies, "Hybrid Vigor. Or outbreeding enhancement."

Hybrid. Bronte focused on the word, "So you believe what Illyana said.... about the magic? About me not being fully Mutant?"

Hank stiffened.

"Does that mean my... birth mother was... not a Mutant?" Bronte asked.

Hank stiffened even further, somehow.

".....Yo?"

Suddenly he exhaled, "I think this concludes tonight's studies. You seem fine, you're not injured in any way, and you only seem to be getting stronger. Let's get you off to your room. I'm sure the others are tired as well."

"HURRY THE FUCK UP, WHISKERS!" Raze yelled seemingly on que, on the other side of the glass before sending his massive prehensile tongue slapping against the glass like a rabid dog.

Bronte didn't like Hank's avoidance of the question.

"Why you acting fishy, Hank?" Bronte said with a side eye as he got up from his seat.

Hank turned away from him, "I am doing no such thing."

"Yea ok." Bronte replied sarcastically as he headed for the door, "You know we see each other every day. We'll talk soon, blue."

Bronte's words faded from Hanks ear as he studied Bronte's blood through the microscope once more.

"You really are a product of them both.... the proof is unavoidable now..." He thought to himself.

"Hank!" Bronte's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned to face the boy who stood by the door, still in his incinerated and ripped Uniform. Muscled frame bare and exposed to the world. The sight reminded him of Wolverine after a grisly battle.

"You think I should go with them?"

"...."

"At the end of the month, I mean." Bronte explained.

Hank took off his glasses, "I think, if you're the son of Wolverine..... As you seem to be, you'll be called to duty. You'll make the hard decision. The decision that's lacquered in blood and gore, but ultimately right. I think you'll do what you believe is your responsibility..... as Laura and the others believe you are theirs. I also think, there's a reason you don't talk about it all. The attack at your highschool.... the injuries and deaths because of it."

There was a silence for a moment before Hank continued, "Do you feel guilty, Bronte?"

Bronte shivered in discomfort at the memory before replying, "Of course I do."

Hank smiled faintly and nodded to himself, "There's your answer."

Suddenly the door burst open, and a pair of inhumanely long blue skinned arms wrapped around Bronte before pulling him out of the lab.

"Hey, labrat! We're tired and I have guard shift tonight..... SO MOVE YOUR ASS!"

And then he was gone with nothing more than a shout at Raze. All Hank was left to remember was that white streak of hair. It seemed to be a bit larger than usual.....