Chapter 1: The rage inside

He smiled as he saw savageness in the big green man's eyes. Although he rarely actually got into a fight, Akuma lived for a challenge like this. His teammates had both nearly perished at Banner's hands, Psylocke having been defeated in less than ten seconds due to a rapid aggressive burst from The Hulk, and Thor managing to give him a decent match, but was still going down faster than the Hulk was. It was finally the demon man's turn, but to his dismay, Hulk tapped out. He respected the level of ability and relentlessness Logan brought to the ring, as he screamed un-intelligibly and charged without holding back,.. but he simply was no HULK.

And then he felt the shift. Ever since he had woken up this day, Akuma could feel a strange shift in the air. He had experienced this before, though he couldn't recall where or when. Soon, he had appeared at a fight, or the fight appeared to him, and he had no complaints except that he would have rather fought someone stronger, and actually capable. His opponents had not backed down and through minimal fighting, he had gotten through three bouts, letting his team take down most of the competition. He felt bad putting Danny Rand in the spot, a man of equal honour though in a different attitude than his, but Danny would rather have fought unnecessarily than see opponents experiencing Gouki's Satsui No Hadou. However, this current shift was stronger, more like the first one than the ones between bouts and, as he realized, was ill-timed! That could either mean one of two things; the tournament was over, possibly cancelled, or....

Wolverine was still coming at him, bearing claw and fang. Not a split second had passed, wasted on thoughts. Akuma was always aware of his surroundings, even when in the fight. He evaded by sidestepping around the charging beast, but Wolverine was stable on his feet and was one of the most agile creatures to have ever lived. He nearly slashed Akuma before he could recover, not losing any momentum in changing his direction. A diluted hadouken, to push Logan back. "Stop Logan. Look around you" The wild little man charged again, of course. Akuma stepped at him and this time, grabbed his arm while stepping around him, and got a hold from behind. "THE FIGHT IS OVER. We moved"

Wolverine snarled and struggled in Akuma's grip before starting to calm down. Akuma's words only came through his head halfway into a snarl and it caused him to look around and sniff the air. His breathing slowed down and he started to sheathe the claws. Then he was still. Akuma let him go but pushed and jumped back, getting a new blast ready just in case. After taking a few moments to sniff around and scan their new surroundings, a clearing in a forest, Wolverine took his hood off and gave Akuma a toothful of disdain, half pained, half jealous. Still crouched, he walked up to Akuma with his finger pointed out accusingly. "That's what I hate about you. We got that same anger, the same thing that helps us fight. We even USE it. Both of us. I tried to control it in much the same way as you did successfully, also in Japan. But... look at you, always one step ahead. Always in control,"

At that, Akuma's lips crunched in what seemed to be distaste. It was as if the man didn't recognize the strange compliment, or he didn't know how to respond to it. His eyes were still, didn't change position or show emotion,and his face was always stern and detached. The other man's anger was in his eye as much as in his growls. He didn't look too imposing standing a little over five feet, even lower in his semi crouch. It would have made another man his size laugh, but Akuma knew that this was Logan, a man who wouldn't care about the size of an opponent or the outcome, but go hard at it trying his best to gut anything with flesh, even if he were a giant ten foot tall, and usually walk out being the one alive. And he respected that about him. The name was so fitting; "Wolverine".

"For you it is instinct, friend. For me, like you said I use it, but it is not necessarily natural to me, as much as I adopt it. The intent. We seem to be alienated, displaced from the others, Logan-San. Perhaps, I could try to explain it more, or perhaps we could continue this fight. After all, I did wake up today hoping to kill something. But perhaps when you can better control your anger, I think it would be honourable"

Logan's sour expression curled up at one corner into a wicked grin, eyes looking murderous. Claws on one hand popped out casually as the rest of him stood still. "Honour sounds like a great idea, bub"

Then he sniffed, suddenly catching a scent, "hold on, we're not alone" he looked around, changing stances, pulling his front leg back behind the other, facing to the side "smells like.. your green guy, with the mohawk"

"Blanka?"

"Yeah, Blanka. Smells like he brought his whole village too," he joked. His partner didn't seem as amused.

Akuma felt the presence, a large presence. More than one, definitely. More than a hundred. He gathered his Ki in his hands and faced the opposite treeline, deciding that back to back, the two expert fighters could hold out longer. "No, there is only Blanka. His family is human"

"Yeah well, you're not smelling what I smell bub. I'd say there was a whole..."

"Army out there?"

Wolverine dropped to a crouch, raising both elbows as his other claw jumped out with more strength. Sure enough, hiding behind the entire treeline, on both sides, were crouching, muscular figures with tall Mohawks. Wolverine's keen eyes could pick out their greenish bodies and long noses. They didn't look like friendly folk.

Akuma smiled over his shoulder. "I did say I woke up hoping for a fight to the death"

Wolverine's teeth gritted. "Bring it on, bub. Make. Our. Day"

Chapter 2 Magnetic Manipulations

"What is this? The Iron age?" Sabretooth asked

"Interesting," was all Magneto had to say.

The Brotherhood, or at least part of it, found themselves facing off against a group of bandit thugs who didn't seem to be able to pick their fights well. Sabertooth wasn't too fond of the ridiculous clothes he was wearing. It wasn't that he disliked lavishing in some civilized garments, as much of a savage he'd be judged and remembered by most, but at the moment he looked like Sebastian Shaw, and he hated that.

"I think it reflects on your French ancestry" Magneto said calmly.

He only wished his stupid minion Pyro would stop his gaze of mockery for the sake of the berserker's control over his rage. Magneto would have had better luck with Toad, who actually pleased Sabertooth more, as well as himself, possibly because of his less-human appearance or because Toad was an older member.

Sabertooth's lips parted in a toothy grin of pleasure "Don't matter Magnus, I don't know how these got ON me, but when the claws come out, I can't guarantee what I will be shredding off fir--"

"No! There's no such need. I want you to keep those on, just in case, until we know what our enemies are like." Magneto was having ideas, weighing assets against opportunities. "Pyro, our friends are coated in lacquer, so use your fuel sparingly while we're here. You won't need it. Besides, campfires seem to be all too common here. But as for this fight....."

Both Pyro and Sabertooth sighed. Denied a fight? Well, Magneto was the boss. And a good one too. Even though it wasn't tanks and airplanes this time, it was still nice to be on the side of the Master when shields and armour plates started flying around. Power was a thing neither lackeys could get too much of. A bewildered bunch of cons, criminals, renegade soldiers and bullies stood naked now and watched helplessly as the trusty swords that had escaped their grips and their cheap armour disintegrated to nothing, only to appear moments later in the form of a beautiful Golem made of shining metal.

"I believe it's time you had a lesson,... in evolution,"

Chapter 3 A cloud of metal dust

Garona and Khadgar had had some time to bond over the scenes of total and utter, yet primitive scenes of Orc-caused destruction. Heads of horses whose bodies had been eaten, burned villages and a trail of darkness. Although Garona had met Khadgar foot first in the face, she had started to trust him more and respect him for his own talents. And even though Khadgar had had some prejudice toward the woman for being what she was, he had come to understand her more, feel almost sorry for her fate, and they both owed each other their lives after their encounter with Khadgar's former master-turned-lord-of-the-Burning-Legion.

"Maybe we should stop for the nigh,.." Garona suggested,

Khadgar was about to snort in suspicion, (she was still an orc) when he noticed her looking at something, with her eyes wide. He turned, and felt it more before he saw it; a huge ball of dust, of metal, was gathering and starting to float around in the sky behind some trees not far away. The nature of these powers were of question. Manipulation of metal was common in spells, but unlike the elements of fire and water, the source of this power seemed to be stronger and rooted deeper within the earth's energies than anything he'd felt before. Metallic to it's core. Garona started running in the direction of the 'storm'.

"No, Garona!"

Great! They see what could be a potential magical threat, of a high magnitude too, (and one which, if magic, he should have sensed before her) and his only ally, as combat savvy as she maybe, decides to rush TOWARDS it. Khadgar caught up as fast he could, unable to think of anything else. Panting, he reached the rogue, who was hooded once more, and looked through the bushes. A white haired man was floating above a group of kneeling bandits, and seemed to be choosing certain units. He seemed to be studying them for skills and supernatural abilities. His armour was red and purple, and unlike anything he had seen, or heard of. But he was human, Khadgar was quite sure. As for his other strange companions, one seemed definitely feral and animal like; whether a dog or a cat, he could not tell. His first thoughts were that maybe the world really did have more species than was accounted for, but seeing as how the third stranger's clothes were certainly and completely...alien, the only answer would have been that these characters were out of place.

Suddenly, the yellow furred and fanged figure turned back looking toward the bushes where they were hiding and sniffed the air. He said something to the mage, who was obviously the leader of this group. Magneto turned around and called at them.

Chapter 4 The hard and the soft

Growls were everywhere! Some were his own. Stepping to a side, circling and moving under a torso, Wolverine sunk his claws in the ribs of another beast. Ducking, parrying, slashing, gutting, slicing, and splattered with blood, Wolverine was not tired, nor was he overwhelmed. He was in fact calm and content. The attack had come rushing from both ways. Wolverine had run in to meet the attackers before they got close. Behind him, facing the other way, Akuma had stood his ground and tried to push the... almost Hulk-like beasts back with Ki blasts, hopefully careful not to spend too much, nder dire circumstances. But eventually, they had all massed up into one big brawl of confusion, and Logan couldn't tell who was fighting who anymore. They had realized later that there were 2 types among the attackers; while both parties were green, Wolverine's immediate enemies had been lankier, furrier and long nosed, while others from behind him, Akuma's friends, were tough-skinned, flat-nosed and louder. The furry ones had longer ears too, almost rabbit like. Their hair was always in a mohawk, while the thick skins preferred to let their hair hang loose. They both carried axes, but the lankier ones liked smaller tomahawks, while the fatter ones liked two handed, huge battle axes. The taller, furry ones he had started slashing and was still fighting had run past him, almost ignoring him, to fight the bigger battle axe monsters.

In a direct fight, the bigger ones may have split every rabbit-eared green guy in half, but the axes were flying in from everywhere, from behind the trees and through the first warrior lines. Strategy over size, they were bringing them down, for the most part. The loose haired, square jawed ones had red eyes and seemed to be out of control, a feeling the berserker could relate to. Behind the more focused, cool eyed axe throwers followed a line of bigger, more menacing warriors with slightly heavier tomahawks that were almost as out of control as the red eyed "Hulks". They had face paint to distinguish them from the others, and pressed the attack on the bigger fellows. These bigger axe throwers seemed to be the actual charge, while the smaller ones circled Logan. However, there was no end to the red eyed monstrosity from the opposite end, and Logan realized a little too late that these almost ninja-esque forest dwellers, his new apparent allies, were lesser in number, and soon started backing away, still pushing back the big uglies. Akuma seemed to be in heaven, relishing the anger, the hate, and the bloodlust everywhere. Logan was outnumbered and grabbed from behind, these creatures didn't seem to mind their lives as much as running away, but strategically. Were they meant as a rescue party? To rescue him? Wolverine was angered, he didn't need rescuing and he only became harder to save.

The retreat was done, both Akuma and a different unit of the rescuers' party used ki blasts and magic to close the attack and run. Akuma seemed to have understood their intentions long before Logan had. The mindless army hardly stopped, but the escape was fast and untraceable. Claws out, Wolverine was still snarling in a fashion more animal-like than he would usually display. The magic user stared into Wolverine's eyes,

"Zul'jin, has watched. Zul'jin, has waited. Halazzi has come!"

So, they spoke English. Logan swore they were uttering gibberish on the battlefield "Yeah, nice to meet you too, ugly"

"Logan, enough of that, we're among friends"

Akuma still had a sinister tone in his voice, and a crazy grin to go with it. It almost scared Wolverine to see this man, someone he had trusted minutes ago, acting like this. Then he looked at the rest of the furry creatures. He recognized some of the features on them, a lost eye, scars across their noses, fresh wounds on their torsos,... the bastards he had gutted, or thought he gutted, were still standing.

"Healing factors,.." he said to himself

They only smiled back at him

"Who are you?"

"We.. are Trolls" Zul'Jin replied. "People of the forest, people of the night, and the hunt. We were the first of this world. Zul'Jin has watched the Elves and the Humans take their land. And now, the Orc come. But Zul'Jin doesn't have to worry. The gods are here. Halazzi the Lynx, Jan'alai the Eagle, will help us"

The trolls bowed all around them

"The heck is this all about?"

"Have you heard of the Tengue, Logan San?"

"Demons? Evil spirits?"

"There are many myths. In some, they are the teachers of the ninja, tribes of wild men who were good at hunting and hiding. Long, hooked noses, much like mine. Bird like, and yes, usually called demons. I am not one to believe in superstition, but I grew up loving their story, having been mocked on my appearance. But to actually find them, these creatures of... myth, gods,.."

Logan let out a breath, completely relaxed now, accepting the fact that he needed to be saved, not that he couldn't have butchered an army of.. (what did he call them? Orc?) on his own, but because it would have been a waste of time.

"Oh f@#!"

Chapter 5 Attraction

For a brief moment, he had flashbacks of his time at Auschwitz. Screams, gunshots, people dying, people he knew, people he even called family. Smells, faces, voices. Erik Magnus had had bad experience with force and violence in his childhood. It had been quite some time since someone actually challenged him, but he didn't like it. It brought out the monster in him. Magneto had first intended to kill the bandits, but he had released his rage into creating a golem instead, and decided that an enemy submited in fear is more useful in this terrain than a dead one. After all, one of these men seemed to be a mutant, a man that seemed to have been chosen as the leader of the group. He had an aura, an aura that gave his friends some protection, possibly magical? His own daughter had powers that worked with magic. So did many mutants. So he decided to scan them, look for any possible expressions of the mutant gene.

He found 2, the leader, who had boosting skills and a bigger man who carried a giant hammer at their initial assault. Magneto gave him back a hammer, and he demonstrated a ground shaking stomp.

"These people recognize the mutant gene, but instead of discriminating it, instead of treating it like a mistake of the genetic order, they recognize it for what it truly is: Superior,"

"Looks like we've found ourselves an Avalanche!" Pyro offered.

Magneto was not amused by the Australian boy's reference to his friend, who was after all not one of his recruits, but..

"Mystique?"

Magneto turned at the voice of the beastly man who had uttered his wife's name. Sabertooth sniffed the air again and confirmed his guess.

"No, not quite Mystique but... she's turning away"

"My child! We're not here to hurt you, you're among friends"

There was silence. Magneto stepped back on to the ground. Sabertooth was alert, mindful of the bandits as well as of the woman stranger he thought was Mystique. He looked at Magneto, then at the mob and back at Magneto with a questioning look.

"Pyro, watch the mob, please," The master of magnetism brushed off any threat of the mob as irrelevant, if they were wise, they would figure they needed the help as much as Magneto needed,... or could use, them.

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Magneto stopped. A woman stepped out of it with a mask covering the lower portion of her face, her arms were greenish, and her eyes,.. her eyes looked a lot like Mystique's.

"You shouldn't be afraid,"

"I'm not afraid" she spat

A second figure stumbled out from behind her, his hand glowing. Magneto raised a brow, half smiling.

"Do not hurt her, I warn you!" Garona gave Khadgar a disappointed look.

"Do we look like we are trying to hurt your mate? On the contrary,"

"She's not my--" Khadgar sighed and put away his magic, he didn't know what came over him, it was probably the chaotic nature of the day's events, and exhaustion. He was already too tired, and and he was ready to waste more mana. "I'm sorry, she's not my mate but,.. it's good to see other humans. We, need your help, we lost our gryphons and we have to warn the king, immediately. But you seem to be... "

Magneto's question was confirmed, they were not each other's mates. But more questions arose. Gryphons? kings?

"Forgive my friend, he's tired and blabbering. But he's right, we need to get to the castle. Fast"

Magneto turned to the bandits. Well, a friend in a castle will obviously be more beneficial than a group of thugs, he thought.

"Can you lead us to the castle?"

Hellscream: The lost chapter

Giant brown feet touched with surprising ease and softness, the soft luscious grass on the same ground they had been fighting on just moments ago. Gouki had as much control over all his limbs as he did with the easiest (had as much control over his legs as with arms). Carefully, he stepped over bodies without touching them, cautious if some were still alive. Both sides retreated soon after their fight to regroup, save for the ones who fought to their ends. But there was one among these "Orcs" that stood out, one with blood red anger in his eyes and deadly intimidation in his war cry.

While his comrade Wolverine was fighting the Trolls that would eventually befriend them, Gouki had been blasting his hadoukens at the Orc force. Then, during the Troll assist, what seemed to be an Orc leader, rallying the others with his terrifying scream had caught his eye. He was as strong as the Hulk, and as aggressive and feral as Wolverine. It had made Akuma smile. First he disarmed the Orc, cutting his strength to equal measure, bringing the fight to a level he could savour, as unarmed combat. In that instant, the Orc had cried out not ferociously, but desperately, as if the Axe had control over him. Then the Trolls released their more bigger, angrier brothers who passed Logan and Gouki (which Gouki had figured was a rescue party before Logan had).

Knowing they were saved, and that not even the strongest fighter could face an army alone, Akuma decided to back down, but only in hopes of facing him again; Him, the terrible Orc. And the Hulk. But he managed to knock out the brute before anybody got to kill him. and he picked up the axe the Orc was carrying. He would not fight this warrior in the chaos of this battle, but alone, on his own terms.

The Troll leader, Zul'jin, had allowed Akuma to return to the battleground, as long as he would come to their city, Zul'Aman afterwords and leftt a witch doctor and 2 potential axethrowers to escort Akuma, both as guides and guards, to which Akuma was neither thrilled, nor completely ungrateful, as the witchdoctor proved resourceful in communication.

The Orc had come to, and realized that his axe, Gorehowl, was missing. In a constant state of violent rage by default, he was thrown into an even crazier fit. But looking around and realizing that the battle was over and that not all his people were lost, he sat back against a tree knowing his people would come back for him. He had half a hope that someone had retrieved it, even without him, but he also wanted to murder the Orc who held Gorehowl.

It was like this that Gouki would find his quarry, long hair dishevelled in thin strands, flowing over his feline features. He was taller than the people he had commanded minutes ago, maybe younger too, and with his more cat like appearance, could have been an entirely different type of creature. He noticed Akuma and lifted his eyes at him, or rather, at what was in his hand. There was a scowl on his face, but he remained still. They could hear the Orcs coming back to the battleground. Akuma turned and walked back into the trees, and as was expected, the lone Orc ran after him.

He found Gouki and three Trolls, two warriors and a voodoo man, facing him. The Trolls were scared and ready, they would fight, even if they knew they had little chance with the behemoth. One young axe thrower perched on a high branch, an advantageous position if Grom attacked the ground forces, while the witchdoctor chanted quietly. In comparrison, the man-beast in the ragged Gi, calm in expression, still and confident in physique, was either very brave or insane, by how he was luring him on, taunting.

It amused Gouki to see how easily the Orc broke the charge and stood still under the powerful hold of the sight of his Axe. He walked forward and planted the blade into the ground. "You can have the blade, when you've defeated me." Before his words had ended, the warrior flung forward, teeth bare, arms swinging wildly, hair a mess and his eyes... Time paused for the time of a breath for Gouki, as he took in this beautiful sight, of a demon that could have been the avatar of Death itself, chaos incarnate, perfect muscles rippling under a skin that was to the man, unnatural. Unnatural and thick, he realized. His Ki blasts from earlier had pushed the Orc forces back, but not scratched their skins. Too bad, because the energy would just sink in and burn, penetrate by seething, when the skin didn't break, and cause worse internal damage.

They fought fist to fist, at first. Gouki met Orc fists with a parry, and a dodge under a couple haymakers, and tumbled him over to a side the Trolls weren't at. He didn't want the action spoiled and interfered. On their second clash, a kick found the Orc's mid section, not at full strength but to manipulate the massive green body into yet another roll to send him back to where he started, away from the axe.

"You do not focus, the axe is distracting on you. Focus on me. Give me your full strength" Gouki's words were almost in a plea.

The Orc scoffed angrily. Was the man, no not a man, for he was too savage and disorganized to be one.., was he toying with him? Did he WANT to die? Even the Trolls flanking Akuma's side, from a safe distance, were giving each other confused and questioning looks, trying to grasp the situation. Another charge, and he found that Gouki was correct, he wasn't fighting like a warrior should, but a slave controlled by Gorehowl. Gouki lifted the axe off the ground and threw it at him. The Orc's lips parted in an amused smile. For the first time, they tried to hit each other with honest kill blows. The Axe was heavy and mighty, but Gouki was faster. His Ki blow connected. The Orc saw the disapproval in Akuma's eye and understood. He nodded and left the axe on the grass before the next charge. The two combatants were smiling at each other now, as they tried to kill each other. The Trolls could not comprehend what the intention of either fighter was, and were left bewildered and unable to participate due to Akuma's wishes.

The Orc straightened up to a sitting position from where he had been thrown to, and broke into a loud laugh. Akuma came to his own feet on his corner, but stood still waiting out the Orc's laugh, a smile on his own face. They had another small bout, their attacks becoming more focused, precise and dangerous every time.

This time, as they broke contact, the Orc ended up closer to the Trolls. But the Orc was chuckling softly, and the sworn enemies of the jungles of Azeroth were for once relaxed in each other's company. After all, an Orc wasn't as hated as Elf, nor a Troll as much as a Human. This other character however, not quite man, not quite beast, amused Grom.

"What are you called, Man? And are you a man, or some beast?"

It is at this time that the Troll witchdoctor cautiously presented to the Orc warrior a necklace with a strange jewel, glowing with magic. Akuma wore one of the same, and nodded for the Orc to accept it. He understood, put it on and repeated the question.

"I am Gouki, of Japan. It means giant, or strong ogre. Perhaps, that is what I am."

Grom laughed. "I have fought those called Ogres, on MY world. They're quite bigger, but you do remind me of them. I am Grommash, it means the HEART of an Ogre."

Then he paused, before asking again,

"Gouki, do you WANT to die?" he asked, emphasizing on the "you-must-be-crazy" part.

Gouki dropped his eyes and shrugged, and replied instead with a comment of his own.

"You lead your kind. You lead them with a hellish scream and a murderous look in your eye. I like you"

Grom laughed again, louder still, throwing his head back.

"Hellscream is my father's name. I am Hellscream after him, Grommash Hellscream, of the Warsong, of Draenor."

Hellscream turned his head to sniff what the Trolls had smelled. His men were coming nearer, and it made him grimace, ironically.

"We must part, my friend," he grinned with his frightful teeth, a crazy, suicidal smile. As he turned he said over his shoulder "When the armies come for you, try to stay alive. I look forward to facing you, after we've killed everyone else"

Then he laughed loudly, nodded to the Trolls in a friendly manner and walked away. The Trolls too waved at their new ally-of-a-sort and chuckled at what they had watched but not quite understood.

Chapter 6: Burden of Gods

Wolverine fit in well with the easy going ways of the forest creatures. He was already wearing one of their tooth-chains over his bare chest, which was glowing with the reflection of their campfire. Now and then, a female in the distance would glance at him. It wasn't too unlike the 'Nam, or some of the South American forests he had fought in. Camping around a fire with his friends, his brothers in arms. Around humans, Wolverine would have probably been sitting in a corner, either too wild and dangerous to be around them, or too experienced, too....immortal to bond with the younger, more mortal men. But these things, they didn't die, and they were as furry and animalistic as he was. The Trolls drank, and sang, and feasted on Raptor meat and ham. The Raptors were their horses, and the smaller ones followed them around like dogs. And on special occasions, they took down a few healthy big males. Of course Logan as familliar with them, from the Savage Lands. Gutted a few, but never eaten them, but not surprised that it tasted like chicken.

The irony was that the Trolls were both a huge city, and a primitive community by the standards of his experience. However, what's considered "primitive" by the "civilized" had their own advantages and Logan was well accustomed to those from many lifetimes past. They didn't use money, or trade, and that's how even at their peak, they remained so... innocent. Being an object of their reverence, mistaken for some Lynx god, or Ioa, the witch doctors had offered him a seat on the higher pyramids, overlooking the city and the jungle. But he had used the respect to his advantage, and wanted to join the warriors he fought on the ground. Campfires were everywhere, and every Troll walked around to a few camps each night. It reminded him of Madripoor, and the Savage Lands at the same time.

He had a female on his lap now, called over by a friend when she walked by and admired the stranger. The girls were friendly and abundant, the camp had 3 by now and they didn't mind sharing, rules in matrimony were both more relaxed and stronger here. As they were in the Pacific Islands, he remembered. He considered the prospects, and their ethics, as he stroked her fur. The flirting was one thing, but these Trolls, they just weren't human. But how "human" was he after all? He was as different from his human peers as these Trolls were different from him. Most of them had green fur, rougher and mossy on the males, smoother on the girls. Some of them even had purple or blue hues. They were like Nightcrawler, or Hank, the Beast. Just more feminine and attractive.

Colossus had taken a lover while they stayed in the Savage Lands, and he hadn't completely lost touch with her. And they were happy, whenever they met. The Troll girl's eyes and smiles, between their tusks, weren't so different from Jean's or Rogue's. Or Carol's. Thinking about Carol sobered him up a little. She was his partner once, and he had great respect. She was no ordinary woman, the thought of her was a bit of solid rock to which he could hold onto whenever he was being caught in the currents of a stream without much morals. What would she have said? And yet... she was soft, and how long was he stranded here for. He smiled. He told himself to be careful in his intoxicated state as he brushed his sweating brow with a forearm.

Intoxicated state. Suddenly, he noticed. The heat of the fire felt hot, hotter than it should. He was sleepy. His eyelids were heavy and he was falling in love. None of these things were stuff he usually did. His eyes fell to the ham by the fire, and he saw how no one else had touched it. The others noticed the look of cautious recognition in Logan's eyes, and quietened down, getting more serious. Getting ready. He licked the sweat from the back of his hand.

"F@$!"

He shook the girl off (who seemed to have no idea what was going on, he noticed thankfully. Being betrayed by the girl would have been more than he could have taken) and jumped into a combat stance, but the Troll warriors were already on him. He'd been drugged. The animal had been poisoned first, so that it sunk into it's flesh. Then the spices were added to shield the taste and the smell from the keen senses of the mutant. No, there was something else too, in their flavouring. The more you had of it, the more you wanted of it. One made him crave it, the other made him weaker. But how could have they gotten the proper dosage? Logan was a beast, with a healing factor. Trolls had that too, they healed from the battle. His body still managed to fight the poison, but he wasn't fit enough. He was sweating, but not fast enough. His muscles ached. He was slower. Still, he managed to keep up with the Trolls, who were apparently trying to take him alive, without much harm. 'Course, he was a God weren't he? For once, he was thankful of religion.

They were coming in from more campfires, and Zul'Jin watched from above. The warriors around Logan had had around him were carefully selected by their leader, he realized now. He introduced them to him, claiming they were the ones he clawed, but Wolverine had sensed the lie. Too little too late.

Gouki was approaching the city now, led by his guide companions. The first thing he had expected to hear were not the feral growls of his Mutant friend. With a sigh, he took off before his guides could stop him. He had hoped for the man to behave, having explained how for now, they all needed each other. It couldn't have been too hard for Logan, after all, he had so much in common with Trolls. But the sight that met him contradicted the guilt he placed on Logan; no, it was the Trolls who were visciously attacking a wary, backing down Logan. Gouki looked back over his shoulder to see the old Witchdoctor charging up an attack, the treachery plain on his face. The Axethrowers gave him an apologetic look. Gouki timed the attack and leaped off it into the heat of the campfire battle, launching a wide Hadou-ken as he did. Now he wished he hadn't thrown as many Hadou-kens at the Orcs earlier, but there was an army there.

He was still in better condition than Wolverine was, and he made his way closer to his friend. Now they were back to back, and at a better advantage together. Between slashes, Wolverine grabbed his arm from the side, head down and gasping desperately.

"I... I can't go on... much lo..nger"

"I've never known the fiesty Wolverine to fear for his life" Gouki half mocked and half dared his friend, because if they were going to live through the night, they were going to need the other to fight.