Following Bronte's life-changing exchange with a literal goddess and the woman that gave birth to him, he slept. How could one know they slept? By being lucid. Lucidity was commonplace in his dreams. For the past three years it's all he had.
Unless he and his siblings had an especially hard raid on whatever organization was connected to Romulus. One where guts were torn and skin was burned from flesh. Those nights usually ended in pure blackness. Mental restoration at its finest.
Not tonight though. Not after what he experienced. He had his usual dream. On a rock path that extended for miles over a turbulent sea. A sea twisting with the rise of typhoons. Roiling along as tidal waves reached for the skies, only to be shot down and lit ablaze by the steady fall of lightning and freezing snow. Flames danced along the seas and mountains in the distance where blizzard-like winds fell short.
And winds howled in unison with the cries of all manner of beasts beholden and belonging to the storm.
Beasts like the one ahead. The one at the end of Bronte's solitary stone path. The one waiting for him. A hulking monstrous being. Walking soundlessly on hybrid legs with its claws extended and maw already open.
Lights flashed. It's fur shown in shades of blacks and silver. Spotted… stripped …. brindle. It's eyes as blue as the ocean.
The beast lunged, bounding down the stone path. The ocean and the storm followed, shrinking his world down to a single orb of overflowing chaos.
Brontë got up. It'd been years since Bronte simply let himself be hunted in his own mind. Nowadays it was a war.
"COME HE—"
***
The sound of Bronte's claws popping ripped through the small room, followed by three other pairs of claws doing the same. It sounded like someone had an old blender going for about three hellish seconds.
Bronte opened his eyes, realizing his dream had come to a close once more. He died. Usually he got up swinging, but now he was held down by Gabbie.
She laid on his chest, deep asleep. Drooling onto his exposed skin. She'd grown— possibly the most in the last three years. No longer a little girl, she was well into her teens. Matured a bit. Raze's handler in replacement of Laura. Alongside her was a better term.
He remembered she used to be so small she could climb on him while he walked with no problem. Now that she laid against him, he realized they were almost the same height. But that was about where the similarity ended.
That and the claws.
Her own singular adamantium claw cut open a line of red in his quad that had already healed over. She didn't even wake.
"You with us, hermano?" Laura's voice echoed from somewhere ahead followed by an excited howl from Chop.
He looked down to find Laura and Daken seated near his bed. The Wolfdog sat at the head of it casually. They were in his room. Still wearing their bloodied and torn combat gear. The sun was up, high enough that it didn't beam straight through his window. Early morning.
"How many days has it been?" Bronte asked.
"Twelve hours." Daken replied casually while he stared out the window.
"Hey…." Laura started as she got up and sat on the bed beside him. She was hesitant for some reason. Constantly looking him over. "What happened back there?"
Bronte still didn't even know for sure. Not about all of it. But other things he was sure of, "I met the woman that gave birth to me."
"YOU MET MAMA?!?!" Raze yelled from the doorway he just entered through with a dead rabbit in his mouth. The words came out in a jumbled mess that only grew worse as he extended his jaws to force down the woodland animal. Chop looked saddened for a moment.
"No. I know my mom. My mom is Aneka Connors. I don't know Storm. She just gave birth to me." Bronte explained. Same reason he didn't refer to the Wolverine as his father. His parents were present the entire time, putting in work for him. He'd be damned before he discredited that.
"Oh tomato testicles." Raze waved him off, "One day I too shall find my parent, Brontosaur. It'll be amazing."
"You're parent is in a holding cell being studied by Reed Richards. And I hope you don't meet them." Daken interjected.
"I love you too brother!" Raze shot back, flinging his tongue across the room to lick the back of Daken's neck.
"Parasite." Daken snarled.
"Supermodel." Raze smiled before walking over to Bronte and taking a seat on the floor beside Laura.
She ran her hands through his wild red hair while she thought deeply.
"Does the name Ororo sound familiar?" She suddenly asked.
Bronte nodded slowly, "Yea…. That was her name. How do you know that?"
Laura nodded, "It makes sense. She was with the X-Men."
Bronte threw his hands up, "Well why the hell didn't you guess who she was before? She looks like me!"
Laura shook her head and whispered, "No tan sencillo…" Before continuing, "There have been dozens of renditions of the X-Men. The team changes its members and management more times than Romulus has changed his hunting strategy. I don't know all of them. Wolverine lasted the longest— he knew the most. And we didn't speak much….. but he mentioned her before."
"Did he mention all his other babymama's or was the royal weather witch special?" Bronte started.
"There is only one other that I know, and that's Daken's mother. He met her a lifetime ago. Storm was his last love…..and it was tricky. The point is, I know who your mother is, vaguely." Laura explained.
"Oh I also met a goddess." Bronte explained.
Daken spun around to face them. Even Gabbie got up with a loud yawn.
"What are you talking about?" Laura questioned.
"Apparently it's related to Storm. Our ancestors were magically blessed by Elder gods. Sisters actually. It was only supposed to be women, but I think Storm being a Mutant altered the passing of power." Bronte explained.
Everyone stared.
"Why can't you talk this casually about cannibalism?" Raze questioned.
"Because I'm sane, bro."
"Lame." Raze got up and left, "Glad to have you back, brother! Look in the mirror when you get a chance HAHAH!"
And then he was gone.
"You're a Wizard, Bronte." Gabbie mocked while she wiped the sleep from her eyes. Pop culture references were her bread and butter. A coping mechanism, if you will.
"We're called WindRiders."
"Sounds tribal." Laura commented.
"Yea."
"But you're ok?"
Brontë nodded as Gabbie sat up on his stomach as if he were just part of the bed.
"And does this goddess plan on getting in our way?" Daken asked.
"No. We good."
They all relaxed. Hearing of a goddess connecting to Bronte's entire history wasn't the shaking factor. Hearing of a goddess that may get in the way of revenge was though.
He chuckled before sitting up and beside Gabbie. "What happened with you guys? Did we get what we came for?"
Laura blinked, "Right. After you disappeared, Daken snuck up on and incapacitated the rest of the Alpha Flight team with the help of Raze. Then we did a quick run through of Department H before authorities inevitably arrived."
"And..?" Bronte's stomach bubbled with anxiety.
"We found that underground bunker. It was out of commission. But there was evidence….schematics, theories, journals, equations. We took all that we could before burning it down. Also we found this."
Laura handed him an old photograph. No color other than black and varying shades of old beige. The image was blurry, ancient.
But he could make out just enough to see two recognizable people.
One. A man that had to be at least nine feet tall. His hair was wildly groomed and trailed down to the small of his back. Streaks of white followed signifying age. But that was the only place age was shown. He was in the prime of his physical form. Hulking and massive, even compared to the containment pod he stood in front of. There was a man inside the container of fluid with three bone claws extended.
Beside the watcher, a woman with a peculiar face marking stood.
"The woman from the bar." Bronte remarked.
Laura nodded, "That's what we assumed as well. Flip the card over."
Brontë did just that to find names on the back of everyone in the photo.
"Electrode…. Savage ….. Bayonet ….. Black Wolf. Wolverine. Romulus and Remus…." Bronte felt his pulse quicken and the blizzard outside intensify.
"Remus…."
"As in relation to Romulus." Laura finished.
"But she helped us." Bronte said in shock.
"Sometimes blood is thinner than water." Daken explained.
"You trust her… NOW?!" Bronte was ready to swing on him.
"I don't trust anything with a pulse. But we may be able to use her. If she wants her brother gone we have a common enemy. Look at the photo, look at how she's watching our father in that tank. She cared for him, her brother took that away. We can use that."
Brontë rolled his eyes, "God damn. Throughout history, this man has always been in knee deep in some p—"
"Don't. Finish that sentence." Laura started.
Brontë shrugged, "Who's about to tell me I'm wrong?"
"Nobody." Laura said casually before adding, "There's one other thing."
"Fuck. Why is there always one other thing?"
"We heard over the communications systems. Lupine hordes are ripping across Canada with a vengeance."
"We took down the connected industries carefully. We never made a clear trail, but the bits and pieces they were able to catch of us before being destroyed was enough after a while. Romulus has a vague idea of where we are." Daken said.
"And when he's ready for a real attempted strike, he sends bodies…. In excess." Bronte finished, remembering the Lupine massacre at Midtown High. And then the battle against Sabertooth at the Xavier Institute.
Brontë stifled a growl that moved to escape his lips.
"We need to get on the move again." Laura announced, "But we've exhausted nearly all of our known safe houses and below radar travel channels. If Romulus doesn't find us, SHIELD will."
A lightbulb went off in Bronte's head following Laura's words. A light bulb in the form of a memory. A memory. A memory of Ororo Munroe's final words to him.
"What if I told you I knew a place?"
Laura looked up at him, "I'd side eye you suspiciously." As she did.
Brontë stood up, finding that he was lightheaded for a moment. "We need to go to Africa."
"What's in Africa?" Daken questioned.
"Protection. Real protection."
As he said it, he looked down at himself. He was only wearing boxers. And even they were way too small. He was still not much taller than Laura at six foot. But he was considerably wider. He was buff. Hulking even, as he saw the thick ropes of veins running down his biceps and quads. Aside from that, excessive body hair had become a new norm. It ran across his chest, shoulders and forearms like light fur. Like a certain someone.
Unlike the man who played a part in his existence, he also now had claws. Retractable like Sabertooth and covered in his biologically manufactured Element Metal.
"Hold on now…."
"Snowbird. I heard her talking to Guardian. She thinks consuming the Wendigo caused a secondary Mutation which seems to be more physical than the last one was. If you turn into a Wendigo under the full Moon I'm removing your head." Daken explained before leaving the room.
Then it was just him, Laura and Gabbie.
"So. Africa." Gabbie said from beside him.
"I don't even know why I said that. I didn't mean to." Bronte explained as he scratched his dreaded head. That's when he noticed the two braided tendrils closest to his eyes were as white as snow. The rest retained their natural color oddly enough.
"What did you mean to say then?" Laura asked.
"Wakanda."