The surgical hall doors groaned open, releasing a wave of putrid air that hit Logan like a physical blow. He recoiled, his enhanced senses amplifying the stench of rotting flesh and antiseptic into something unbearable.
"Holy shit! Lady, keep that door open—it reeks like a damn slaughterhouse in here!" he growled, his nose wrinkling.
The Ancient One said nothing, but the slight tightening of her lips betrayed her own discomfort. She let the doors remain ajar as they stepped inside, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead like dying stars.
The scene before them was something out of a nightmare.
Dietrich Voss lay spread-eagled on the operating table, his torso flayed open like a grotesque anatomy exhibit. His skin had been peeled back with surgical precision, held in place by clamps. His organs—*some missing, others partially removed*—glistened under the harsh lights, still functioning despite the brutality inflicted upon them.
"Hmm," the Ancient One murmured, studying the macabre tableau. "It seems Mr. Wraith is also a gifted physician."
Logan's claws slid free with a metallic zing, ready to pounce. "Tsk. I told him not to get carried away."
This wasn't justice. This was madness distilled into ritual.
His muscles tensed. One quick swipe—right across the throat—and he could end Voss's suffering. The man deserved death, not this endless torment.
"Wait—!" the Ancient One barked.
Too late. Logan's arm arced down—
—and a scalpel screamed through the air.
"CLANG!"
The collision sent sparks flying. Logan's arm jolted backward with enough force to make him stumble, his boots scraping against the blood-slick floor. The scalpel—now embedded halfway into the concrete wall—hummed from the impact.
Silence.
Then—
—a shadow moved.
From the corner of the hall, where the darkness had seemed impenetrable, a figure emerged.
The Wraith.
Blood crusted his hands, his face, his clothes. His eyes—once sharp with cunning—were hollow, empty pits. But his body was coiled like a viper's, his fingers twitching as if aching to carve again.
Logan flexed his stinging wrist, staring at the scalpel buried in the wall. That throw should've been impossible. The force behind it...
The Ancient One stepped forward, her golden robes shimmering. "Mr. Morvayne," she said, her voice calm but firm. "It's time to stop."
Sai's head tilted. Slowly. Deliberately. Then his lips peeled back in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Logan barely had time to blink before the world exploded in pain.
One second, he was staring at the scalpel embedded in the wall—the next, a boot filled his vision.
"BOOM!"
The impact shattered his nose, cheekbones crumpling like paper. He flew backward, his body smashing into the concrete wall with enough force to crater it. Dust rained down as he slumped, momentarily dazed.
"KUH!!!...What the hell—?"
"BOOM!"
Another blow. Same spot. His healing factor surged, flesh knitting back together—only to be pulverized again as The Wraith's fist connected.
"Buk! Buk! Buk!"
The attacks came like machine-gun fire—precise, mechanical, relentless. Ribs cracked. Femur splintered. Adamantium bones rang from the force. Logan roared, his claws slashing blindly—
—and found purchase.
"FUCK!!! playing nice, you blasted idiot!! ARRRGGHH!!!"
Adamantium tore through The Wraith's shoulders, blood spraying. But the man didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Just stared with those hollow eyes as Logan used his embedded claws as leverage, heaving them both to the floor.
"LADY! DO YOUR MAGIC NOW!"
The Ancient One stood ready, golden energy swirling around her palms. "Throw him to me!"
"GET READY!!!!...YEAAAHHHH!!!!..." With a snarl, Logan yanked—ripping his claws free—and hurled The Wraith across the room.
The sorceress moved like lightning. One palm struck Sai's chest—
—and his body crumpled.
Silence.
Then—
—color drained from the world.
Sai Morvayne blinked.
One moment, agony. The next... floating. The surgical hall stretched below him, frozen in monochrome. Logan mid-snarl. The Ancient One, serene as ever.
"Hmm~ this is trippy," he mused, flexing translucent fingers.
"It is," the Ancient One agreed, materializing before him. Her astral form glowed faintly; hands clasped behind her back. "I'm glad to finally meet you in your... sane state, Mr. Morvayne."
Sai studied her—the knowing smile, the timeless eyes. "Sorcerer Supreme...." he said, lips quirking. "Didn't expect to see you here...."
"Nor do I," she admitted. "But then again, you've always been full of surprises."
"So," Sai said, glancing at his catatonic body below. "Here to scold me? Stop me? or just to wipe me out of my existence?"
The Ancient One's smile faded. "Here to understand….and help, also...if i were to harm you in anyway.... i am sure that, the daughter that you created.... would be the end of this world...".