ᴄʟᴀᴡꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅᴇᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ⤷ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ʜᴏᴡʟᴇᴛᴛ

.𝟎𝟐

────୨ৎ────

LOTTIE

I approached the professor's office with a sense of urgency, my concern for the man I had attempted to treat weighing heavily on me. The encounter had left me unsettled, and I hoped that Professor Xavier might have some insights on the situation.

As I entered the office, I saw the professor sitting behind his desk, his calm demeanor a stark counterbalance to the turmoil I felt. Logan was standing there, a look of confusion and frustration on his face. He glanced at me, recognizing me from earlier, and I offered him a small, sympathetic smile, despite the tension of our earlier interaction.

"I believe you've already met Dr. Charlotte Claymoore," the professor said, acknowledging me with a nod as I walked past him.

Logan's gaze shifted between us, his confusion evident. "You're in my school for the gifted. For mutants," the professor continued. "You'll be safe here from Magneto."

Logan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's a Magneto?"

"A very powerful mutant who believes war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity. I've been following his activities for some time," Charles explained. "The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabretooth."

"Sabretooth?" Logan chuckled, the name seeming to amuse him more than intimidate him. 

Logan's attention turned to Ororo Munroe, who stood nearby. "Storm?" he said, pointing at her with a smirk. "What do they call you, wheels?" he added with a mocking laugh, clearly not taking the situation seriously.

Scott, who had been watching quietly, stepped forward, blocking Logan's path as he began to move toward the door. "Cyclops, right?" Logan said as he grabbed Scott's jacket roughly. "You wanna get out of my way?"

Scott's expression hardened as he looked at the professor, seeking guidance. "Logan, it's been almost 15 years, hasn't it? Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are."

Logan's grip on Scott's jacket loosened slightly, but his eyes were filled with anger and a mix of vulnerability. "Shut up," he growled.

I watched with a look of sympathy, feeling the weight of Logan's struggle.

"Give me a chance," the professor said, his voice firm yet soothing. "I may be able to help you find some answers."

Logan's eyes flicked around the room, his demeanor shifting rapidly. "How do you know?" he demanded, his voice rising in desperation.

The professor's expression remained calm, but I could see a subtle change in Logan. His head whipped around the room, his movements becoming frantic. It was clear to me that the professor had reached into Logan's mind, attempting to offer him some form of mental clarity or control. The intensity of Logan's reaction indicated that the professor's telepathic influence was unsettling him.

"What is this place?" Logan asked, his voice laced with confusion and fear. He seemed to be grappling with the reality of his situation, struggling to understand the nature of the school and the people within it.

────୨ৎ────

Logan watched Charlotte closely as she placed circular devices across his chest, her hands moving with a practiced ease as she adjusted them just so. Her touch was light, but there was an undeniable sense of purpose behind each movement.

"I'm sorry," Logan muttered suddenly, his voice gruff.

Charlotte paused, looking up at him with soft, sympathetic eyes. "For what, sugar?"