Zacharius — Roleplayer Guild

It would be inaccurate to suggest that events were a blur to Alex. That would imply they sped by, too fast for his mind to process. But as crushingly slow and painful as anything was at that time, they may well have been a blur for all they affected him. While in reality he showed just as much pace as the others, fleeing eventually to the manor, to Alex it had felt like he was barely stumbling, crushed beneath the weight of events. His family was dead, and now so was Noel. He wasn't insane, he was aware the blood was not on his heads, but he could not shake the crushing truth that without his presence, both would probably still be breathing now. He didn't need, or want, to confer much with the others, although he shared their surprise at the location and condition of where they had escaped to, that soon wore off and rather than peel off in small groups, he simply wandered. He made a conscious effort to avoid Helena. While she would usually be his go-to friend in times of such emotional upheaval, right now he was too raw, too far gone. All he'd end up doing is sucking her into the foul cracks of his mind. The curse of telepathic empathy.

Alone and distraught, he still managed to marvel at the building he now found himself in. It was an old place, at least as far as the New World was concerned, you could fell the age even through the meticulous care. It reminded him a lot of the various country homes and estates still standing back on Blighty. The wood creaked with the eons, no amount of dusting could stop that, even if you had wanted to. Careful to ensure his own isolation, he avoided looking for rooms that he knew the others would be searching for. Libraries, rec lounges, accommodation. He headed deeper into the mansion, through offices and corridors, down a flight of stairs, into the Earth below, before coming across something that just didn't fit. The door was metal, shined to near perfection, heavy duty, like a bomb shelter. He stared at it for a few minutes, deciding if further exploration was really what he needed right now, then, eventually, his fingers touched down on the cold surface. A moment later, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

"Careful where you tread Alex, there's a whole lot of history and horror where you now tread." X had, unsurprisingly, remained completely unnoticed by the adolescent, her presence only revealed by her voice he had no idea how long she had tailed him. When he had left the group to range out on his own, she had been speaking to Rob. He didn't know if she'd cut that short or already finished. But she was here now, and even at the best of times Alex found her company uneasy, if not hostile.

"Is this the?"

"Danger Room? Yes. Although, I doubt it's been running as it once did for a long time now. Not for so long." Her voice nearly trailed off at the end, the emotional toll she was evidently bearing enough to break through even her demeanor, if only slightly. But it wasn't just that, Alex couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he had an idea.

Awe.

X approached the door, pressing a console Alex didn't know was there, hidden within the wall itself, before the bulkhead slid open, exposing a vast room of shining metal, circular, he noticed the glass floor of the observation room above. He followed X inside, turning on the spot as he looked around the chamber as his teacher spoke.

"Once this place was a miracle of mental and physical manipulation. The X-men could create any scenario,any challenge, to train against and overcome, or simply to improve. I do not know whether it can still run, if it will ever run like it did."

"It still didn't help them in the end." It came across as more bitter than Alex would have liked, it had been meant as a sad remark at the suffocating presence of the fate of the X-men, but instead the anger and personal tragedy of the day seeped in, turned it into a remark that he immediately regretted. More so when X turned and levelled her gaze at him, orbs that he knew had looked into the soul of a man moments before silencing him forever. Alex had to remind himself that he to shared that trait.

"Do you know what a healing factor is Alex?" It seemed a dumb question, simple enough that it took Alex a few moments before he was sure she actually wanted a response.

"It means..you heal, injuries, in some cases even fatal ones, healed, not painless though."

"Do you know what they used to say about it?"

"Eh..."

"They used to say Wolverine was the man who could not die, that I was his daughter. The only one to share his curse of immortality. You know why they no longer say this?"

"Well...Apocalypse."

"Right, except that Wolverine spent many years in his long, long, life looking for death. Actively seeking it. When I knew him he was past such dark stages, but he hardly shied away from pain, or anything that might give him his final release. I'd seen him come back from blows that left him unrecognizable as a human being, let alone Logan. Do I think the world is a kind enough place to think he is now resting in peace? No, I think he feels it, his atoms blown to shreds, rebuilding so slowly that he may never walk this Earth again. Logan and I never had the assured finality of death, I doubt he's found it now."

Alex didn't realize why she was telling this story, and why to him, but he still found himself reeling at the prospect. While the media had never been kind to the X-men, in an older generation of those he had spoken to, he was well aware of how the world had perceived Wolverine. A mutant who could not be killed, perhaps there were those out there comforted by the idea Wolverine was no more, but to hear X describe it as she did, made Alex, usually one fairly pensive about what could be found beyond the void, thankful for the certainty of a mortal death.

"You're wondering why I'm telling to this. Wolverine was my father, genetically yes, and later in spirit. I know Noel is plaguing you, but nothing tops the suffering of our family, this coming from someone who barely had one. The point is, many of us have family who have suffered, even those of us who, unlike the pair of us, didn't have family so fortunate as to remain loving. Grieve, rage, as you should, as you have every right, but do not let it make you drop your guard, because that is exactly what they are waiting for." There was no pity in her expression, no true sense of empathy, beyond the words themselves, it was a warning first and "foremost and one that almost sent Alex reeling with its pragmatism. She was using the events of the day, dire as they were, to teach a lesson. The thought almost brought him to scream his rage at her, but before then. it dawned on him, as it had before with X. She was the perfect teacher to have in this world, a world of hate in so many ways. X was trying to keep them alive, and she wasn't afraid to hurt and offend them to do so.

"I understand, I won't let them have me as well, if only for those lost."

"Good...now, I understand you've been taught Krav Maga? Lets see if we can't expand on that."

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