Chapter Fifty

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- Lalia

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- Lalia

I staggered, my breath coming in ragged gasps, as the room around me seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The power surging out of me bathed the room in a scarlet light, casting eerie shadows that danced across the debris-strewn floor. The air was thick with the scent of blood and ozone, a metallic tang that filled my lungs with every breath.

I felt my wound begin to heal, each cut and bruise knitting together with an almost painful intensity. The sensation was both excruciating and exhilarating, like fire and ice coursing through my veins. The raw energy pulled me back from the brink, my body mending itself with a speed that defied logic. It worked.

Logan snapped his head back, his eyes widening as he saw me. "Lia?" he muttered, a faint smile breaking through his shock.

"Logan, go find The Professor. He's in the tunnels. Go now!" I commanded, my voice urgent and unwavering. Without hesitation, Logan sprinted out the door, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

I looked back at Stryker, his face a mask of terror, his eyes wide and unblinking. The dim light from the broken windows cast eerie shadows across the room, the remnants of our battle strewn around us. My footsteps echoed through the silence, each one a harbinger of his impending doom.

"You were dead," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "This can't be, it was written—"

I cut him off, my voice cold and unwavering. "For someone who prides himself on being a mad scientist, you overlooked the most crucial detail. In all those ancient books and manuscripts about witches and supernatural beings, there's always a loophole in every prophecy."

The air around me crackled with energy, the red mist swirling around my hands growing darker, more intense. I lifted my hands, feeling the power surge through my veins, the red energy wrapping around Stryker's throat.

He gasped, his eyes bulging as he struggled to breathe. The room seemed to close in on us, the walls vibrating with the intensity of my power. A glowing diadem began to form above my head, the light growing brighter with each passing second.

"You were right," I said, my voice echoing with a newfound strength, "this being inside me was meant to come out."

The scarlet ambience from the walls started to absorb into me, shaking the entire building. The light illuminated the room, casting long shadows that danced around us like specters. I let go of my physical grip on Stryker, but my power held him pinned to the wall, his body trembling with fear.

"But now, it won't be able to consume me," I continued, feeling the energy coursing through every fiber of my being. "I don't need you to tell me, who... I am." My voice was a low growl, filled with a determination that sent shivers down my own spine.

"No, no," Stryker muttered, his voice breaking with terror. His eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist.

I focused my power, channeling it into him, watching as he began to age before my eyes. His hair turned gray, his skin wrinkling and sagging as the life was drained from his body. My former suit, stained with blood, transformed into a flowing scarlet dress, my hair surging into fiery red curls, framing my face.

Claws and Heartstrings: Logan Howlett | Wolverine ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིWhere stories live. Discover now