Ryuuto's "regeneration factor" wasn't some mystical relic — it came from borrowed tech: Orochimaru's data packets repackaged as bio-code.
(Technicalities: Ryuuto had deliberately avoided the darker "Living Corpse Reincarnation" method; what he'd taken was the cleaner, Hidan-modeled regen—real cellular recovery, not body-jumping. Moral qualms aside, it worked.)
Wolverine flexed, claws sliding out with a metallic snikt. He grinned like a man who'd forgotten what mercy felt like.
"You itching for a fight, bub?" he asked.
Ryuuto's smile sharpened. "If you're serious, Logan, I'll dance."
"Good. Last time you hid behind belts—this time you won't get off easy. Taste the claws." Wolverine advanced, eager and dangerous.
Ryuuto stood, stretching casually. "One-on-one is boring. Let's make it interesting: two-on-two. Pick teammates. No mercy. Losers obey the winners."
Logan's eyes lit. "Now that's a bet I like. What's the price?"
"Absolute obedience," Ryuuto said, dead serious. "If my team loses, I follow any order you give. If we win, you obey me—completely."
Logan snorted. "Big stakes."
"Confidence, Logan?" Ryuuto teased.
Logan spat. "I don't exactly trust you—Scott talks too much about you—but I'll take it. Two-on-two. I'll pick first."
He scanned the room. Who could restrain Ryuuto's speed, his duplicated strikes, that rasengan-like cutting technique and the uncanny reflexes that blurred him from sight? Few. Logan's gaze landed on Bobby — Iceman.
"Bobby," Logan barked, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You in."
"I—uh—" Bobby protested. "I just do tricks… I'm not—"
"You can do this," Logan said, almost proud. "If we win, Ryuuto's at our call. That's the whole X-Men on a leash." He let the idea hang in the air — bait and pressure both. Faces stiffened, but Bobby swallowed and nodded.
"Okay. Ryuuto, pick."
Ryuuto scanned allies — Katie Dee's protective quirks, Jean's raw power, Scott's sly tactics, Natasha's lethal close-range skill. He couldn't pick someone who'd freeze the team's protective grid or who lacked synergy. He needed a partner who could pivot, adapt, and trust.
He pointed at Susan.
She flushed. "Me?"
"You sure?" Ryuuto asked, casual as a shrug.
"Positive." She squared her shoulders, proud and steady. Being chosen mattered.
They moved out to the rear playground — the school's largest open space. Charles came down from his room to watch; the students ringed the field, breathless with excitement and dread. Even Wolverine lingered at the edge, claws sheathed but twitching.
Across Town — Magneto's Fury
Magneto's fingers curled around twisted metal; the air hummed. He'd watched Ryuuto's broadcast and it felt like glass in his chest. How dare the boy preach coexistence?
He'd planned tonight's massacre for two purposes: to stoke panic and to probe the police database for Wanda's trail. If she wasn't dead, some small clerical entry would lead him to her.
Mystique moved through the wrecked station with feline poise. Quicksilver was anxiety made kinetic, pacing like a coiled spring. Magneto didn't care for their commentary. All he wanted was one thing: find Wanda and seize power.
When Quicksilver dared to speak up—warn Rulers' caution about involving Wanda—Magneto's patience snapped. An iron plate slammed into Pietro, pinning him to the wall with a clang that made the station shudder.
"You are my tools," Magneto spat, voice an iron rasp. "You obey or you break. Don't lecture me about compassion. If you speak like that again, I will make you both regret it before Ryuuto gets the chance."
His eyes flashed. The metal around them quivered, like a storm waiting to fall. He wanted Wanda found, and he wanted Ryuuto—that boy who smiled at the world—to choke on defeat.
Back on the playground, Wolverine and his chosen partner Bobby faced Ryuuto and Susan. The crowd drew close; every charged breath felt like an electric wire.
"Rules!" Charles intoned calmly. "Full strength—no holds barred. Winners take the right to command losers for a week. Begin."
Wolverine lunged like a blade; Bobby flooded the turf with slick, glittering ice, trying to slow Ryuuto's motion. Susan moved with grace and quiet force, her force-field and tactical timing a perfect fit for Ryuuto's hit-and-fade style.
Ryuuto laughed into the rush of adrenaline, fast and bright. This wasn't a mere friendly match. It was a test — of bonds, of strategy, and of whether the school that sheltered mutants could stand together.
And somewhere in the world, metal bent and oceans trembled as forces aligned for a fight with higher stakes than any game.