Chapter 11: The Ruler in The Shadows

Silence followed after the idea of his birth parents and the late Wolverine entered Bronte's mind. It seemed they understood he needed a minute. A minute that extended into twenty as he devoured his food in silence. He was never much of an eater, but as soon as he'd gotten the plate of eggs, sausage and pancakes, it was like he'd entered a starved frenzy. And for some reason, they had endless plates. He ran through six before slowing down and succumbing to the many eyes watching him warily in the room.

"Finally full? Ah'm surprised you put down so much to be honest..." The lady that brought in the cart of food said. Her Scottish accent was as thick as her hair was short.

"I've never eaten so much in my life..." Bronte said in disbelief once the starved haze began to fall and the world around him regained importance.

"You've never burned so many calories either I'm sure." Hank said in a calm manner.

Bronte nodded in silence before looking back at his plate where he played around with a fork in his pancakes. It was here that he noticed the newspaper on the tray beneath the plate. He slid the plate over to see the cover, finding the date to read, October third, twenty fourteen.

It was as Charles Xavier said.

"I was asleep for a week...."

"That's what your surprised by?" Daken said from the back of the room.

"Nah, I'm surprised by everything." Bronte replied.

"Naturally, and I'm sorry for the mess you've endured thus far. But I must say, Bronte, things will not get easier from this point. Not on their own." Hank said.

"What does that mean?" Bronte asked, sweat beginning to slick his palms.

"You see, there's a reason you've woken up to find yourself in this..... special school. I'm sure Charles told you why you're here."

Bronte looked down at his hands, looking for the scarring on his knuckles that wasn't there.... as if giant sharp metal bones hadn't exploded from his skin less than an hour previously.

"Yea, I know why I'm here."

"But do you know what you must do here?" Hank asked, the others idly waited around the room as if they'd heard it all before. Laura watched him like a hawk.

Bronte was confused by the question. Hank seemed to understand, prompting him to go on.

"It is here that you must learn to control your abilities. They could be the very thing that decide whether you live or die as what you've become."

"Control my..... what? I know how to do the bone claw thing already. And who's trying to kill..... me." He replied, trailing off at the end as he remembered the Monsters again. He knew all too well who wanted to kill him, the question was, why?

Despite this, Hank regarded him calmly, "You don't remember. Of course. The rage is often quite..... blinding. It's our greatest strength and weakness."

"What are you talking about?"

"Those..." Hank said while pointing at his arms, "Aren't your only mutations. And that is exactly why you are in grave.... grave danger, Bronte. You have a plethora of abilities and mutations that we don't yet fully understand. And it is for that reason that he'll want you more than anything he's ever wanted up to this point."

Bronte felt his spine tingle, "Who will want me?"

Hank looked over to Laura from beside Bronte, queuing her in.

"I'll explain all that to you, but first I'd like for you to get to know everyone in this room. We're the people you will be closest to-- whether you like it or not, because we understand you. And we know how important it is that you stay with us... because the alternative is..... unpleasant."

"..."

Laura continued, "My name is Laura Kinney. I'm the first-born daughter of James Howlett-- someone who you know simply as, Wolverine."

Bronte studied her face to try and find any features or similarities to the Mutant Avenger he'd seen unmasked only a handful of times in the news and media. To put it simply, he was a well-built stocky Canadian wild-man. Fit with the thick nose, square jaw and thick brown hair. In some pictures he even had animalistic fangs. Laura held little similarity. She was slim, lithe in her frame with widened hips, lean muscled limbs and long flowing brown hair. Like Wolverine. But that was about it. She was undeniably hispanic with her tanned skin and rich curls. And when she spoke, he suddenly realized, she too had fangs, four to be exact.

He shivered. Reality was hitting harder than a hammer to the brain.

She suddenly looked over to the little girl sitting beside him, "That is Gabbie. My little sister... she has a thing for candy and Honey Badgers. Naturally, she is another child of Wolverine."

Gabbie flashed him a smile missing a front tooth and a peace sign. She looked starkly similar to Laura-- only a decade in the past. Hell, they could've been twins if they were the same age.

"And that..." Laura continued, drawing his attention to the long prehensile tongue hanging from the ceiling and sneakily stealing the pancakes from his plate, "That is Raze."

"...Man, just have it." Bronte said before scooting the plate-- now covered in green slime, away from himself.

Immediately, the shape-shifting man dropped from the ceiling and took the plate with a giggle before he began digging in on the floor beside him.

"He's still learning his manners." Laura replied.

"Child of Wolverine?" Bronte questioned.

"Yes." Laura replied. "Same goes for him." She pointed behind her to the man at the window.

Bronte remembered him well. The first one he'd run into. The man that bested one of the giant Monsters on his own and walked off a set of flayed ribs as if it were a papercut... all after asking to throw him out of a window.

"That's Daken. And he's the first son of Wolverine."

Daken turned so half of his face was shown and gave a slight nod before turning back to the window that seemed for more interesting than anything happening in the room to him. Like Laura, he bared little resemblance to... James Howlett. Much more than Laura, but still little. He was trim-- lean as a cut of chicken. Even in his black sweater and jeans, Bronte could see every muscle as clear as day, along with the tribal tattoo snaking up his neck. He wore his hair long-- styled like a mohawk with the sides shaved and covered by the length of his hair. It looked as black as his sweater and lacked all the curls Laura's had. They shared very little similarity as well. The most apparent being that, Daken looked Asian. A thesis supported by his accent.

"Are you getting the trend here?" Laura asked.

"Everyone in this room is related to Wolverine?" Bronte guessed.

"Yes." Laura replied.

"Even the blue WereWolf?"

"Ah-- on the contrary, I'm more feline than canine. Rahne is the only WereWolf in this room." He said, saying WereWolf in quotations before pointing to the woman who'd brought in the food.

"What?" Bronte's brain was on the verge of melting.

"Yes. And his name is Hank. And yes, we are all related to The Wolverine. As you probably already know, that includes you, Bronte. We think you're the last son of Wolverine." Laura cut in.

He guessed as such. He didn't know his birth parents, his adoptive mother told him they'd died in a gunfight-- gang violence, but often spoke about them in a much different tone. It made sense, especially since he'd only recently awakened as a Mutant. But, hearing her say it out loud. It was so much more intense.

"HAhahhehe.... welcome to the FAMILY WHOO!!" Raze yelled before licking off the pancake piece stuck to his forehead. His tongue was extremely unsettling.

"Yes, welcome to the family!" Gabbie said, seeming to think this was all some sort of long awaited wholesome get together.

Bronte looked around the room as the truth dawned on him. He felt like he was in ethics class with Mr. Smith. So many options, ideas and thoughts flowed in his mind. Beating at his skull like a tapping drumbeat.

Finally, he spoke, "Ok.... but how are we all related? We're all so different..... and why was an Avenger's pull-out game this bad? I mean how are none of you known in the media or where are the outraged mothers?? I didn't ever hear about him being an upstanding parent... like what is really goin on?"

Rahne choked on her coffee and stifled a laugh before saying "Ah missed normal folk."

Daken stiffened at the back of the room.

"What's pull-out game?" Gabbie asked.

Bronte had forgotten an eight-year-old was sitting right next to him. "Oh.... my bad."

Laura nodded, "It's fine. And a reasonable question. She suddenly pointed to Raze, "As you can see, we are very different. That is either from different mothers or being born from unnatural means."

"Unnatural means?" Bronte questioned at the ominous sounding words. Then he watched Raze stand up and stretch, his spine extended past normal means and sent his head nearly crashing into the ceiling as he let out a yawn that reminded him of a lion with his massive fangs and wide jaws. Even his bright red bristly hair looked like a mane.

"Yea there's no way he came from a human. That's an alien or something." He thought in discomfort.

"Yea.... I think you get it." Laura said after watching him watch Raze.

"Ok. And how are we all related...? Including the blue....." His words faded as Laura faintly growled.

"My fault, my fault. How is... Hank and Rahne related to.... us?" Saying it sounded so bizarre.

Laura looked back to Hank, "Go to work, Professor."

Hank pushed up his circular glasses and took on an intensely serious air for a moment, "We all share the same gene."

"The Feral-Gene...." Bronte remembered.

Hank looked at him in surprise, "Very good. That's exactly it. This Feral-Gene, it's the most common Mutant Gene, and like all Mutant Genes, it awakens in us during inception, puberty..... or times of intense stress. The latter is least likely, and how you and James Howlett awakened your Gene's. Now, this Gene has vast variety. I mean, just look at us. Some small, some large. Suiting fangs, retractable claws, night vision, the ability to transform or even speak with wild animals through the shifting of brain chemistry, perception and body language understanding...."

As Hank spoke, Bronte looked around the room finding the connections. His half siblings' fangs, claws and wilder features, Hanks hulking muscles sheathed in deep blue fur, even Rahne as she raised her hand-- partially transforming it into something that reminded him of the Monsters in the highschool.

"Now. There are theories floating all over the world as to the Mutants origins and their path of evolution. I want you to ignore them for one reason. We know something they don't. The Mutant Gene as a whole isn't the focus, but the different types. You see, I think each type has-- can have, a different origin as a whole. The human body is an everchanging and easily hybridized thing. Just think about man's origin. As a whole, man is hybrid by nature."

Bronte simply watched the Professor in his element. It reminded him of Mr. Smith. He didn't even understand what the giant beast-man was talking about, but he was undeniably captivated.

"Now, I know you understand little of what I just said. So let me paraphrase. We are all bound by the Feral-Gene and it's potency within us. We are high-level F-Gene holders. And that gene can be tied to one being-- one race. Lupus Sapiens."

"What-- like Wolf-Humans?" Bronte asked.

"Yes. But it's more accurate to think, Feral-Humans. Mutants evolved from Wolves.... as it goes. That is what a certain someone believes of us and other Feral-Gene holders. And it is because of that that he believes he owns us as our progenitor. He wants dominion over his subspecies of Mutant. Do you understand?" Hank said.

Bronte stayed silent for a moment, trying to still his mind.

"The Monsters at Midtown." Bronte said.

"They are called Lupines, and they are a specialized attack squad. Hunting party, set with the task of hunting down and retrieving this being's genetic offspring. The weakest are killed, but the more promising are hunted down.... like you were." Hank explained.

"Who is... this man?"

"We only know him as, Romulus." Hank said.

"Romulus. He's the one who sent the Monst-- Lupines. How'd he know?"

"Romulus has connections all over the world. He's been here long enough to pursue the startup and inception of most big-name corporations. He has a hand in nearly everything. The Life Foundation, early phases of Stark Industries, Weapons Plus, places in Russia and even Oscorp." Laura explained.

Bronte's stomach lurched as he remembered the Oscorp van passing by his house all those days ago.

"So what now?" He asked.

Laura's face went hard. Harder than it was, "Now, you train. Train like your life depends on it, because it does. And once you get a better handle on your powers make a decision."

"A decision?" Bronte asked.

Laura nodded.

After everything they'd discussed, one question flew through Bronte's mind, "Whatever decision I make.... I won't be able to go back home will I?"

"Not with the Lupines after you." Laura explained.

Bronte's heart broke as he sat in the bed. His stomach dropped and tears--that he once inadvertently held back, began to blur his vision, "Damn..... my mom is gonna whoop my ass."

The sadness settled on the room as fought the urge to cry. Gabbie held his hand in hers. Hank rested a hand on his shoulder, "I'm so sorry Bronte. I know an unimaginably heavy load has been thrust upon your shoulders by people you know nothing of. But it gets easier in that department. You learn to carry the weight. Your survival demands it. And when it gets tough, call your parents. They know where you are. And I'm sure they've been sitting by the phone all week waiting for you to wake up."

Bronte nodded in understanding. Seconds turned to minutes. Eventually the tears faded and with a throat clearing grunt, he looked up at Laura, "Decisions...?"

Laura nodded, "You are the student of the Xavier Insitute. Whether you like it or not, you will always be welcomed here. And the X-men will fight on your behalf. So, if you decide, you can stay here. Live as a High-School student and Mutant. Grow your abilities in a tame environment and maybe someday become an X-Man..... an Avenger-- or simply integrate back into society... back to your life spent in your room with your instruments and computers. If the Lupines quit hunting you."

Bronte shivered at her final words.

"Or. You can get a handle on your powers here, and then leave with us." Laura explained.

"Where are y'all going?" Bronte asked.

"We're hunting the hunter. That's why we found you-- that's why we'll raid every corporation, military compound and whatever else Romulus has his hands in. Because we want to find him, and kill him. So we can live a normal life.... or at least try to." Laura said.

Her words of killing Romulus seemed to light an age-old flame in the children of Wolverine. They hated him.... deeply. Deeper than anything he'd ever seen.

"Anyway." Laura said, the intensity faded, "You have a month to decide. We can't stay any longer or we'll lose our trail and the Lupines will find us again. So, go talk with the Professors. Call your adoptive family, learn about the Institute and get some sleep. Tomorow will be a long day."

Following her words, she left. The others followed her without a word.

"Wait-- what's tomorrow?" Bronte asked her fleeting frame.

Daken answered for her, "Training."

They never stopped, the only people to acknowledge him being Gabbie and Raze. The little girl waved a goodbye and Raze turned his head like an owl to flash a toothy grin while pulling his mouth so wide Bronte could see every inch of his gums.

"So, who has some chocolate?!" Raze asked as they faded and the door closed.

Bronte felt like a weight just left his chest.

"Not all of the students here are so intense." Hank said.

"Not at all, ah swear it." Rahne added while she picked up the green slime littered plate on the floor beside him.

"Really?" Bronte asked.

"Of course. They're the misfits.... of the misfits... haha." Hank replied, "But Laura's a good one. She's become quite the woman. You can trust her, more than anyone else. Now, I'll leave you to it. Think over everything and do some walking around. I'm sure you'll be surprised to find that you've changed in many ways."

As they too left, Bronte leaned back and laid in his bed.

He forced out all the terrifying ideas-- events and possible futures, and simply tried to relax.

It didn't work for one reason.

"Yea..... yea I need my music or it's about to be a problem."