Chapter 94: The Naughty Little One Runs Away from Home

"Xiu Yu, where's your apprentice, Bobby? I don't see him. Didn't you say you'd bring him along for training today?" Uzumaki Mito asked as she set the breakfast table, noticing one place was empty.

Su Xiuyu suddenly froze. "Ah, crap... I left him in the some space yesterday and totally forgot to bring him back. Thankfully, I left some food there. It shouldn't be a big deal—I'll go get him now."

With that, he quickly opened a portal and stepped into the dimensional space.

Inside, Bobby was still clenching his teeth as he focused on sculpting with ice. His creation—a lifelike ice sculpture of Su Xiuyu—was nearly flawless, but the kid looked absolutely worn out.

"Master... you finally came..." Bobby gasped, collapsing to the ground from exhaustion.

"Why didn't you take a break?" Su Xiuyu asked, slightly concerned.

"Master, can I go back and eat first? I really need a nap after that."

"Actually, it's already morning. I came to take you back for breakfast." Su Xiuyu scratched his head, feeling a bit guilty. It was his first time forgetting a disciple in another dimension—if it had gone on any longer, the poor kid might've starved.

"No wonder I feel like death. There's no day or night in here—no sense of time. I'm beat..." Bobby mumbled, lying flat on the ground.

"You've got a pretty decent attitude for someone who's been forgotten," Su Xiuyu muttered as he made a few hand signs. "Earth Style – Light-Weight Boulder Technique."

With a wave of his hand, he lifted Bobby gently using a floating rock and stepped back into their home.

"He's out cold. Let him rest. Let's eat first—we can talk after he wakes up," Su Xiuyu said as he floated the kid into a spare bedroom.

Bobby's first training session had ended with him passing out from sheer exhaustion.

---

Meanwhile, in Queens, New York, in a quiet suburban home, a teenage girl named Rogue (known affectionately as the little rascal) was sitting by the window with her boyfriend, Jack. They had planned to study, but with spring sunshine and hormones in the air, they ended up sharing a soft, innocent kiss.

It was Rogue's first real kiss, and she closed her eyes to savor the moment.

But after just a few seconds, Jack's body began to twitch and convulse. Rogue pulled back, alarmed. His skin had turned pale, and he looked... hollow. Like someone had sucked the life out of him.

"Jack?! What's wrong? Jack!" she cried out, shaking him.

He didn't respond.

In a panic, Rogue grabbed the phone. "911! My boyfriend's not breathing right—he's at 89 XX Street in Queens. Please hurry!"

An ambulance rushed to the scene, and paramedics quickly lifted the now frail Jack onto a stretcher. But his bizarre appearance raised alarm bells, and they notified the local police.

"Miss, we're investigating the incident with your boyfriend, Jack," a stern officer said in the hospital waiting room. "He's been diagnosed with systemic multiple organ failure. That's extremely serious. Can you tell us exactly what happened?"

The officer eyed her suspiciously.

Rogue's hands trembled. "I-I don't know... we were just kissing. That's it! Nothing else happened! Are you saying I hurt him?!"

She was trying to stay calm, but the panic was clear in her voice. Just hours ago, she had been a normal high school girl. Now she was being treated like a suspect.

Before she could process it, one of the officers reached out to calm her, placing a hand on her arm.

The moment they made contact, the officer's legs gave out, and he collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Hey! What happened to you?!" his partner shouted, rushing to his side and checking for a pulse. It was still there—but faint.

Rogue's eyes widened in horror. "I—I didn't mean to...!"

Instinctively, she reached out to the other officer.

"Don't touch me!" he screamed, but it was too late. As soon as her hand brushed his, he collapsed too.

Now panicking, Rogue turned and bolted out the door, running down the street as fast as she could. Behind her, the two downed officers lay unconscious until backup eventually arrived and got them to the hospital.

Later at the police precinct…

"What the hell happened?" barked their supervisor. "You were just questioning a teenage girl, and now I have two officers out cold in the ER!"

"Boss, we think... we think she's a mutant," one of the recovered officers said, still pale. "She didn't do anything violent—just touched us. But it was like all the energy in our bodies got sucked out instantly."

"Same thing probably happened to her boyfriend," the second officer added. "Only their contact lasted longer. We only brushed her arm. That's why we're still alive and he's in a coma."

"Great. Just what we need. Another damn mutant panic," the supervisor muttered. "Take tomorrow off. God knows the city's falling apart and we're stretched too thin as it is."

As Rogue ran through the streets of New York, it finally hit her—this wasn't a coincidence. Her boyfriend. The cops. It was all her. Somehow, she had drained their energy just by touching them.

Tears welled in her eyes. She didn't know where to go or what to do. Her own hands felt like weapons.

"Mom… Dad… where are you? I'm scared…" she whispered, voice cracking.

Eventually, exhausted and terrified, Rogue climbed into the back of a pickup truck parked along the street. She curled up in the bed and passed out, not noticing when the truck pulled away.

The driver, humming a country tune, didn't see the sleeping girl in the rear as he began his trip down south—toward Texas.

Back in Queens, Rogue's parents came home to a nightmare. Their daughter was gone. Her boyfriend's parents were demanding answers—their son was in the ICU, unresponsive. Then came the bombshell from the police.

"She attacked two officers," they said. "She's suspected of being a mutant... and on the run."

But Rogue wasn't running away anymore.

She was lost.

Wandering.

--------------------------

On the other side of town, the little rascal had somehow wandered out of Queens and ended up in the suburbs of New York. When the pickup truck driver stopped to refuel at a gas station, Rogue groggily climbed out of the vehicle, still half-asleep. The driver hadn't even realized someone had been hitching a ride in the back the entire time.

Staring at the unfamiliar surroundings, Rogue looked completely lost. What started as an impulsive plan to run away from home had now turned into full-blown wandering. The confusion and fear finally hit her, and she plopped down beside the gas station and began to cry.

"Hey, little girl, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Logan was refueling nearby when he spotted her. Rogue looked up and saw a rugged-looking man with a beard, an old-school leather jacket, and an unlit cigar in his mouth—probably unlit because he knew better than to light up near gasoline.

Even though he looked a little intimidating, there was something reliable about the guy.

"I... I don't know where to go. I ran away, and now I'm lost. I don't know anyone here," she sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. Great. A runaway kid. Her clothes didn't look like she was homeless, which only made the situation more complicated.

"Where's your family? I'll take you back," he offered.

"I can't go back... I don't dare," she replied, eyes downcast.

Logan sighed. He hated trouble, and this definitely smelled like trouble. But leaving a crying kid alone at a gas station wasn't an option either.

"What a pain..." he muttered, reaching out to help her up.

"Don't touch me!" she flinched back immediately. "Please… I'm not joking. Anyone who touches me ends up passing out. It's happened a few times already. I don't want to hurt you."

That got Logan's attention. His eyes narrowed. Abilities like that didn't just happen. In a world where people still didn't believe in superpowers, especially with Carol Danvers being a tightly kept secret, hearing something like this usually meant one thing: mutant.

Originally, he just wanted to help the kid get home, but now he leaned in, suddenly more interested.

"If you trust me," Logan said, "you can come with me. I'm a teacher at the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. If you really can't go back home, you can stay in the student dorms for now."

Rogue squinted at him. "You look like a gym teacher at best…"

Logan groaned, "Just answer the question. You coming or not? If not, I'll give you some cash so you can figure things out yourself."

"I trust you," she said without hesitation, hopping into his car.

There probably wasn't that much trust between them yet, but for some reason, she felt like this uncle was someone she could rely on—even if he looked like a leather-wearing bouncer from a dive bar.

"Here, take my gloves. They're too big, but if you can't touch people, they'll help," Logan said as he started the engine.

"Thanks, Uncle. You're really nice."

The arrival of Rogue—or "Little Rascal," as Logan kept calling her—brought a new face to the halls of Xavier's.

"Logan, is this the girl you mentioned? She really is a cute kid. Have you contacted her family?" Charles Xavier asked gently.

"Nope. She won't talk about them. I have no idea who or where they are. Can't get in touch even if I tried," Logan replied, puffing on his cigar.

"I don't want to go back," Rogue said softly, shrinking a bit under their gazes.

"What's your real name?" Charles asked.

"Just call me Rogue."

Charles nodded slowly. "You said your power is uncontrollable? When people touch your skin, they pass out… sometimes even worse?"

She nodded. "Yeah. My boyfriend was the first. Then two cops. All of them collapsed just from touching me. I don't know why—it just started happening recently. Nothing like this ever happened before."

That meant she'd probably just awakened her powers. Otherwise, the symptoms would've shown up long ago, especially around her family.

"Logan, would you mind?" Charles turned toward him.

"What, you want me to test it out?" Logan frowned.

"You're the best fit. Your healing factor should keep you safe."

"No! He'll get hurt!" Rogue blurted out, worried.

Logan smirked. "Don't worry. I'm practically immortal."

He grabbed a fruit knife, slashed his own arm, and within seconds, the wound closed up like it had never existed.

"Holy crap! Your arm just healed instantly!" Rogue gasped.

"You catching on yet?" Logan said with a grin. "We're mutants. That's my ability—accelerated healing. Can't really die, no matter how hard someone tries."

"Exactly," Charles said. "This school is a sanctuary for mutants. Everyone here has their own unique ability."

A tall woman stepped forward and gently stroked Rogue's hair. "My name's Ororo Munroe, but most people call me Storm. I can control the weather—lightning, rain, wind, all of it."

Her touch was gentle, protective. Ororo had been through hell growing up on her own, and seeing another homeless girl stirred something deep in her.

"Let me try. Even if you drained me, I'd survive it. I've been shot, stabbed, even nuked during the war. Trust me, I'm hard to kill," Logan reassured her.

"Are you sure?" Rogue still looked unsure.

"It's fine. Really."

Logan reached out and took her hand. Within seconds, his entire body jerked, and he dropped like a rock, letting out a low, pained groan.

"Logan?!" everyone called out in alarm.

It took a few minutes before he stirred. "I'm fine… just feel like I've been hollowed out. Every muscle's dead. It's like someone unplugged my soul for a minute. Damn, even when I took a direct hit from an atomic bomb, I didn't feel this weak..."

Everyone burst into laughter at his dramatic comparison.

That was Logan for you—unstoppable, reckless, and always throwing himself into danger. No wonder people called him Wolverine.

"You sure you're okay?" Rogue asked anxiously, eyes full of guilt.

"Yeah, just need a few minutes," Logan grunted from the floor.

Rogue couldn't help but feel bad for what she did, even if it wasn't her fault. Her powers meant she could never touch anyone. Not freely. Not without risk. Even among other mutants, that was a harsh sentence.

She was still just a kid, but her life had already changed forever. The road ahead wouldn't be easy.

Mutant abilities came with power… but that power always came with a price.

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