The wind carried the scent of pine and frost as Garou walked beside Rogue down the rocky trail leading out of the mountains. Since his arrival, he hadn't tried to dominate the land or challenge its protectors. He just walked—and she walked with him.
Rogue glanced at him.
"You always this quiet?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.
Garou shrugged. "Talking never stopped pain."
She slowed a little. "Neither did bottling it up."
He said nothing.
Rogue tucked her white-streaked hair behind her ear. "You ever have someone who made you stop fighting?"
Garou stopped walking.
A face flickered in his mind—Tareo. The child from a broken world. The only one who believed in him when he didn't.
"Once," Garou said.
Rogue looked at him gently. "And what happened?"
"I lost him." His voice was flat.
"You blame yourself?"
"No," Garou answered. "I blame the world that forced me to become what I am."
There was no ego in his words. Just truth. Just weight.
Rogue placed a hand near his arm—never touching, but letting him feel her presence.
"Ah ain't gonna ask you to change," she said. "But if you're here to just wander until someone fights you... there are easier ways to die."
Garou stared ahead, amber eyes locked on the horizon.
"I'm not here to die. I'm here to find out if I can live."
---
Meanwhile — The Sanctum Sanctorum
Stephen Strange hovered above a levitating spell circle, brows furrowed.
Clea entered the room with her arms folded. "Dormammu grows more agitated."
"He tried to breach through the Veil near Canada," Strange said. "A crack—not large—but enough to send something through."
Clea frowned. "Another mindless beast?"
Strange shook his head. "Worse. A human. Corrupted. A sorcerer who once studied under me."
Clea narrowed her eyes. "Kuras."
Strange nodded grimly. "Dormammu's made him his first messenger. He's hunting Garou."
---
Northern Forest Trail — Nightfall
The campfire crackled in a small clearing. Rogue stirred a small pot of stew while Garou sat on a stone nearby, sharpening a jagged blade he had forged from the hull of the alien vessel that had brought him to Earth.
She watched him. Not with fear. With concern.
"You don't sleep much," she noted.
"Sleep is when the memories are loudest."
Rogue nodded. "I used to be scared of hurting people when I touched them. Now I'm scared I can't feel them anymore."
Garou looked up.
"You can't feel people?"
She sighed. "My mutation used to absorb more than powers. Emotions, memories. Lives. Now… it's quiet. Like I'm alone in a room where no one speaks."
Garou studied her for a long moment. "That's what you felt when you reached out across space."
Rogue blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You weren't just calling someone. You were calling someone who wouldn't be afraid to feel you."
Rogue's chest tightened. Not with sorrow—understanding. He got it.
Before she could reply, the fire hissed.
The air turned sour. Thick. Electric.
Garou stood instantly, blade ready. "We're not alone."
---
Kuras, the Devoured Flame
The clearing shimmered—and Kuras stepped forth from the dark.
Once a master of arcane wisdom, he now bore the marks of corruption. His flesh was etched with dark runes, and his eyes burned violet like a candle lit in a coffin.
He bowed mockingly.
"Garou. The Hound of Adaptation. The Wolf of Worlds."
Garou said nothing. His body tensed, shifting slightly as his senses evaluated the threat.
Rogue stepped beside him. "Friend of yours?"
"No," Garou muttered. "Just another scavenger."
Kuras chuckled. "Dormammu watches. And you refuse his call. Why?"
Garou narrowed his eyes. "Because I don't kneel."
The corrupted sorcerer's smile faded. "Then burn."
He raised his hand—and the forest erupted in eldritch flame.
Garou lunged through the fire like a missile. His body adapted mid-charge, filtering out the heat and reinforcing his skin against mystical assault.
They clashed in the air, and the force of the impact blew out the campfire.
Rogue watched from the edge, ready to intervene, but Garou didn't need saving.
He danced through spell after spell. Each blast he absorbed made him faster, sharper. His muscles began glowing faintly with sigils—not of magic, but of evolution.
Kuras began to falter.
"You dare defy the flame of Dormammu?!"
Garou moved behind him in a blink.
"I'm not defying. I'm deciding."
His punch shattered Kuras's shoulder—and sent him flying through three trees.
Before the sorcerer could recover, Garou was there again—driving him into the earth with a strike that cratered the forest floor.
Kuras coughed blood and whispered, "He'll come himself next…"
Garou leaned in close.
"Let him."
Then he crushed the amulet on Kuras's chest—and the sorcerer vanished in a flash of dark light, banished.
---
Later That Night
Rogue sat across from Garou again, firelight flickering between them.
"So… you really told Dormammu to shove it?"
Garou nodded. "I've fought gods. This one's no different."
Rogue smiled. "You're growing on me, y'know."
Garou looked at her. "You're not scared anymore."
She held his gaze. "Ah never was."
They sat in silence.
This time, not a lonely one.
A shared silence.
The kind only people who survived monsters could sit in comfortably.