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Alpha in the MCU

A young man named Mark finds himself at the crossroads of life and death, struck by the fateful "truck-kun" and offered a chance for reincarnation by a higher-dimensional being known as ROB. Given the opportunity to start anew, Mark, now reborn as James Logan Howlett, enters the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). Armed with the combined abilities of Wolverine and an Alpha werewolf, James now as one of the most formidable beings in existence, he navigates his new life.

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55 Chs

Chapter 2: James Logan Howlett

Mark wandered through the dense forest, the towering trees casting long shadows in the fading daylight.

A thought struck him suddenly: this forest was empty without humans. It was the perfect place to test his new powers.

He hadn't had a chance to fully grasp the extent of his abilities yet, and what better place than here, where no one could see him?

He stopped in a small clearing, the ground covered in soft moss, and decided to start with the basics.

Focusing on his hands, Mark flexed his fingers, willing the bone claws to extend.

With a sharp *snikt*, three jagged claws shot out from his knuckles. He turned his hand over, inspecting them with a mixture of awe and satisfaction. These were the tools of a predator.

He then moved to a nearby tree, raking his claws down its trunk. The bark and wood splintered and fell away effortlessly, the tree fell lifelessly on ground.

He expected this result but was curious to see how sharp his claws really were, Mark approached a large rock nearby. With a swift motion, he slashed at it. The claws cut through the stone as if it were made of butter, leaving deep gouges in its surface.

"Wow," Mark muttered to himself, retracting the claws and examining the damage he'd caused. It was almost too easy, he can control his strength perfectly.

Next, he tested his enhanced senses. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the scents of the forest to flood his nostrils. He could smell the damp earth and the faint odor of distant animals.

His hearing was equally acute, picking up the sound of water trickling over stones in a stream far away, the rustle of leaves as a bird took flight, and the distant growl of a predator. He can control his senses fine but these were just the beginning.

Mark knew he had more to explore, more power to unleash. He decided to try out his Hybrid form.

With a deep breath, he focused on the primal beast within him, feeling it surge through his veins. His muscles bulged, skin stretching taut as his form began to shift.

In a few moments he transformed, His body was a blend of human and wolf, taller, bulkier, and covered in a fine layer of dark fur. His face elongated into a snout, his teeth becoming sharp fangs. He marveled at the raw power coursing through him, every fiber of his being thrumming with energy.

Satisfied with the transformation, Mark decided to push himself further. It was time to test his Alpha form.

Knowing this would be an even more intense transformation, he removed his shirt and pants, leaving them folded neatly on the ground. Standing naked in the cool evening air, he felt a sense of anticipation.

He looked down at himself, chuckling as he glanced at his 'little brother', "wow, it's huge." he muttered, feeling a sense of pride.

Then, with a deep breath, he let the transformation take over. His body expanded rapidly, muscles growing, bones shifting, and fur sprouting across his entire form.

When the transformation was complete, Mark stood as a towering Alpha Werewolf, a beast of unparalleled strength and power.

Testing his new strength, he closed his fists and extended his bone claws and swung his hand at a nearby tree, splintering the thick trunk with ease. He then cut the trees nearby as he vanished from place to place with blinding speed.

He leaped into the air very high and landed on the ground, which trembled on his landing. Every movement was effortless, his body brimming with energy.

Satisfied, he allowed the transformation to reverse, returning to his human form.

He retrieved his clothes and dressed. But as he finished, his sharp senses detected something approaching—quiet, deliberate, a predator stalking its prey.

Mark turned, catching sight of a tiger creeping toward him, its eyes locked onto him as it prepared to pounce.

He smirked, his eyes flashing red. As the tiger was about to leap, it suddenly froze, its eyes widening in terror as it saw the shadow of a massive wolf looming behind Mark. The fear overwhelmed the tiger, and with a yelp, it turned and bolted into the forest, disappearing into the underbrush.

Mark laughed heartily, enjoying the display of dominance. "Smart kitty," he murmured before continuing on his way.

As he navigated the woods, following the scents that would lead him to civilization, he suddenly heard a commotion far away. His keen hearing picked up the sounds of a struggle—a bear, growling angrily, and the weak cries of a man in distress.

He followed the noise, breaking into a run, within a few seconds he arrived at the scene.

When he arrived, he saw a massive bear standing over a young man who was now lying unconscious on the ground. The bear, hungry and desperate, was moments away from attacking.

Mark didn't hesitate. He charged forward, his fist connecting with the bear's side. The force of the punch sent the massive creature tumbling through the air, crashing into the undergrowth with a roar of pain and surprise.

The bear staggered to its feet, shaking its head, but before it could attack again, Mark growled low in his throat, his eyes glowing with an intense, intimidating red glow. The bear hesitated, sensing the sheer power radiating from the man before it. But instead of attacking, it simply growled back.

"Easy there," Mark said calmly, though his voice carried an unmistakable authority. He could sense the bear's fear, but also its hunger. He didn't want to kill the creature if he didn't have to.

"I get it, you're hungry," Mark said, his voice oddly soothing despite the tension.

The bear growled again, but this time it was less aggressive. Mark crouched slightly, meeting the bear's gaze. "There's other food out there. You don't need to eat this guy."

The bear sniffed the air, its growls softening into more of a low rumble.

After a few tense moments, it turned and lumbered away into the forest, leaving Mark standing over the unconscious man.

Mark watched it go, a small smile on his lips. "Later big guy," he muttered to himself.

He turned his attention to the young man, who was beginning to stir. Mark knelt down, gently shaking the man's shoulder. "Hey, you alright?"

The young man's eyes fluttered open, confusion evident in his gaze as he took in the sight of Mark crouched over him. He blinked a few times, then sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "W-what happened?"

"You were about to be a bear's dinner," Mark said with a grin. "But I took care of it."

The young man looked around, as if expecting to see the bear still looming over him. When he realized it was gone, he let out a sigh of relief. "Where… where is the bear? What did you do?"

Mark shrugged casually, a smirk playing on his lips. "I talked to it."

The young man deadpanned at him, clearly not believing a word. "You… talked to a bear?"

Mark chuckled at the disbelief on the man's face. "Yeah, I did. I guess I have a way with animals."

The young man blinked, still trying to process what he had just heard. "That's… hard to believe."

Mark just smiled and extended a hand to help him up. "What's your name?"

The young man accepted the hand, pulling himself to his feet. He was tall and lanky, with a shock of brown hair and intelligent blue eyes. "I'm Hank. Hank McCoy. I'm a medical student, training under my father, Henry McCoy."

Mark's eyes widened slightly at the name. He knew that name well—Hank McCoy, better known in the MCU as Beast. But is thia really the mutant hank or just some other guy.

Mark smiled, shaking Hank's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Hank."

"Thank you, Mister..."

Mark then thought of something and smiled "I'm James, James Logan Howlett."

"Thank you again, James," Hank said, brushing some dirt off his clothes. "I owe you one. I don't even want to think about what could have happened if you hadn't been here."

Mark waved it off. "Don't worry about it. Just glad I could help. So, what were you doing out here, anyway?"

Hank chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was supposed to be collecting herbs for my father. He uses them for his research and treatments. I didn't think I'd run into any trouble, but… well, here we are."

"Herbs, huh?" Mark said, looking around at the dense forest. "You know, I could help you out with that."

Hank's face brightened. "Really? That would be amazing! I was worried I wouldn't be able to finish before nightfall, but with your help…"

Mark nodded, and the two began their search, with Mark using his heightened senses to locate the plants Hank needed.

As they worked, they chatted, getting to know each other. Mark found Hank to be an interesting guy—smart, driven, and with a curiosity about the world that was infectious.

By the time they had gathered everything Hank needed, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the first stars were beginning to appear in the sky.

Soon they made their way through the forest, the conversation between James and Hank flowed naturally.

They discussed everything from Hank's medical training to the kinds of herbs they were gathering. But as the sky grew darker and they neared the edge of the forest, a question began to gnaw at James.

He had been too caught up in the excitement of his new powers and the situation with the bear to think about it before, but now it was becoming increasingly important to know exactly when and where he was.

"So, Hank," James began, trying to sound casual, "I've been meaning to ask… what year is it?"

Hank looked at him strangely, raising an eyebrow. "What year? It's 1898. We're just outside the town of Whitehaven in Canada. Why do you ask?"

James tried to mask his surprise, but it was a lot to take in. 1898? Whitehaven? This was far from the modern world he was familiar with. He was nearly half a century before World War II and decades away from the events of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

"Ah," James said, recovering quickly. "I guess I got a bit disoriented. I'm on a bit of a journey myself and lost track of time. I, uh, lost all my belongings too, which is why I'm a bit of a mess."

Hank studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge the truth of James' words. But after a moment, he simply nodded. "You're lucky you ran into me. Wandering around here without a plan or supplies can be dangerous."

James chuckled softly, though inside he was still grappling with the revelation. "Yeah, I guess I am lucky to find someone about to be the food of a bear. Thanks for your help, Hank."

"Grh, you have to remind me again do you."

"Yup, and could you find me a place where I can stay for sometime."

Hank smiled. "Listen, my family's home isn't too far from here. Why don't you come with me? We can get you something to eat, and you can rest up before you figure out your next steps."

James hesitated for a moment, but the offer was too good to refuse. He had no idea where to go next, and having a place to stay, even for a short time, would give him the opportunity to plan his next move.

"That sounds great," James said, nodding. "I'd appreciate that."

The two continued walking until they reached the outskirts of Whitehaven, a small but bustling town nestled in the Canadian wilderness.

The town was typical for the era, with wooden buildings lining the dirt roads, the flicker of oil lamps illuminating the streets as night fell. It had an old-world charm.

They walked past a few shops and homes, the locals giving them curious glances but not stopping to inquire. The town was modest, with a mix of settlers and indigenous peoples, and it seemed everyone knew each other. It was a far cry from the sprawling cities James was used to.

"Here we are," Hank said as they approached a modest two-story house at the end of a quiet street. "Home sweet home."

The house was well-kept and smoke curling from the chimney. Hank opened the door, ushering James inside.

As they stepped into the warm, cozy interior, James was greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread and the sound of soft conversation from the next room. Hank led him through the entryway into the main living area, where two people were seated by the fireplace.

"Mom, Dad," Hank called out as they entered. "We have a guest."

The older man, who must have been Henry McCoy, looked up from the book he was reading. He was tall and lean, with graying hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. The woman beside him, Hank's mother, was a petite woman with kind eyes and a warm smile.

"Well, this is a surprise," Henry said, standing up and extending a hand to James. "Welcome to our home. I'm Henry McCoy, and this is my wife, Mary."

Mary stood up and walked over to them, giving Hank a questioning look before smiling warmly at James. "It's not often Hank brings someone home. What's the story, dear?"

Hank quickly filled them in. "James here saved my life out in the forest. A bear attacked while I was gathering herbs, and if it wasn't for him, I might not be standing here right now."

James tried to downplay it, giving a modest shrug. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Hank was handling himself pretty well."

Then Mary asks for Hank and his well-being and asked him if he is alright.

Henry looked James over with renewed respect. "A bear, you say? That's no small feat. We owe you a great deal of gratitude, James."

James nodded his head. "Just glad I could help."

Mary smiled at him, clearly relieved. "Any friend of Hank's is a friend of ours. Please, make yourself at home."

James nodded. The McCoys were good people, that much was clear. He followed them to the dining room, where they sat down for a meal.

As they ate, James shared a bit about his "journey," sticking to his story about losing his belongings and being somewhat lost. He kept his answers vague, not wanting to reveal too much, especially about his powers or where he was really from. The McCoys didn't press him for details, respecting his privacy.

Henry asked a few questions about his travels, while Mary was more concerned with making sure he had enough to eat. Hank chimed in occasionally, but for the most part, James was content to listen and observe. The McCoys had a close-knit, loving family dynamic, and James couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia remembering his family in the past life.

After dinner, Henry showed James to a guest room upstairs. It was simple but comfortable, with a soft bed and a small window that overlooked the garden.

"If you need anything, just let us know," Henry said as he left James to settle in.

"Thank you, Mr. McCoy," James replied, appreciating the warmth and hospitality he had been shown.

As he lay in bed that night, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, James' mind raced with thoughts of the past, the future, and everything in between. He was in a different time, in a world where he could carve out a new path for himself. But he also knew he had to be careful, to keep his powers and true identity hidden, at least until he had a better grasp of the situation.

His thoughts drifted to Hank. The young man had no idea what his future held, and James wondered how much of it he could, or should, influence. There was so much at stake, and so much to consider.

But for now, he would rest. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new discoveries but for now he'll sleep.

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