Logan awoke in a pool of his own caked blood. The hazy memories of the past few hours hit him with all the subtlety of a World Eater - he winced at the effort required to raise his head, seeing the familiar, hated face of a man who was once his brother.
Being stared at seemed to wake Hess as well; the heretic caught his eye, then spasmed with a strangled cry as his wounds took hold. It was with no small satisfaction that Logan watched him suffer. If Hess lived multiple lives, he would make sure the bastard went through the maximum possible pain capable of being experienced by a human in all of them. Logan slowly rose to his feet, feeling his bionics twitch as intricate machinery sparked back to life. The damage was not irreparable, but his claws were not yet responding; he felt paralyzed, weak, helpless without them, like he had no arms. Wait. Damn it.
Hess' wails brought him back to reality.
Jeremy... the things they went through together, the enemies they fought, the countless times they saved each others' lives, all that came crashing back upon him even as he fought to remain conscious.
He could not listen. Jeremy's howling cut away the remnants of his vengefulness; his friend lay there, legs shorn off, his entire body draining into uncaring soil.
"You were my friend, Jeremy," Logan managed, "My only friend for... for so long. Why did you do it?" Tears began welling up in his eyes, and he could not - would not - muster up the strength to wipe them away. "Why?"
Stained eyes met blue pupils with infinite contempt. Shaking uncontrollably, Hess coughed up spittle and phlegm.
"I HATE YOU!"
And it was true: jealousy, spite, bitterness and pure, undisguised hatred seared from Hess' dying breath.
"I HATE YOU!!!"
Logan watched, runnels streaming down his face as he watched his once-dearest friend attempt to crawl to him in vain, nails scratching fruitlessly.
"You were like a brother to me, Jeremy," he said. "I loved you."
Turning away, he considered putting the Elysian out of his misery, but Arkangel had other plans. The fat and cloth trailing from the wreckage of Hess' lower body caught fire from the lava's creeping tendrils; as this new agony embraced Jeremy Hess, he began screaming in earnest, rolling around as flames spread all over his body, licking at his hubris - the planet's revenge against a mortal who dared lay claim to it.
It was terrible. Logan had seen many things, but this was terrible, to see his friend die and do nothing.
He turned and limped away, leaving Jeremy Hess to burn.
Korramyn watched Logan climb up the outcrop - he was pale, clutching his chest and limping. He also seemed to be short of breath; fatigued, even, something that hadn't happened... until now.
"Are you alright?" Korramyn asked. They both knew the answer, but he was out of things to say.
Logan ignored the question, instead grunting, "I spotted where they're holding Emerson, and..." he trailed off, noticing Lhisa standing behind Korramyn, "Kid? What are you doing here?"
She said nothing, and merely looked away. Despite standing in a searing cavern-forge fully clad in thick coats, she bore no signs of sweat or discomfort.
Howlett responded with a slight chuckle, but it was quickly replaced by a bloody cough, "Good to see you too. Either way, we should get moving."
"Lead the way, then." Shouldering his rifle, Korramyn paused. "Where is Hess?"
"Dead."
The rest of Hess' grotto was thankfully devoid of heretics, having been scoured by Lhisa's unshakable gaze. She had yet to speak a single word as the Ghosts climbed their way into the central command center.
