"Guess this is a rescue mission," I hear myself saying, as I look at a woman with long, black hair. She gives a slight shake of her head.

"Your assistance is well timed."

The voice belongs to another man who looks at the two of us.

"However there are two points - the first is that I cannot come with you. I will be able to provide transport to the Shadow Realms. I must stay and protect Princess Ariel, and if you are to fail I must do what I can to try and infuse her with the magics of the land." He shakes his head. "She is too young to willingly accept it and this will corrupt me..."

"Corrupt?" asks the woman.

"Dark magics are needed and the darker the magics the deeper the corruption. The Mage used dark magics, but stayed off the darkest and so he was only partially corrupt, which enabled him to face the Tyrant. My corruption is minimal at best, but this will push me over the edge. Hector knows what must be done."

"If the Shaman were corrupted an evil would be unleashed the like of which the world has never seen," the guy named Hector says. Hector... that name sounds familiar...

"Okay," I say. "What's the second point?"

"The King of Shadows can only be killed by one who is undead," he says. He looks out the window. "At best you will be able to stop him and free Queen Rain and the rest of the Royal Court, and we will make plans to stop him anew."

"Maybe not," I say with a smile. "There might be something we can do to make sure he won't come back." I look at the woman and she nods

"The rewards will be great if that is possible."

"There's nothing you can give us," I say . "Save being left alone to live out our lives."

"I'd like that," she says. "If just for a few years or so. Then perhaps we could go home."

"That is talk for another time," he says. He lifts his staff, and the wolf head pendant begins to glow. "I will put you as close as I can to the Queen without alerting the King of Shadows."

The dream fades away as my eyes slowly open. It takes me a moment to realize where I am, but then I remember Siger helpin' me and givin' me a ride. But... I can't seem to remember anything else, at least not just yet.

"Jacob?" asks Siger as he walks into the room. "Ah good, you're up. Sleep okay?"

"Yeah," I say. I stand from Jacob's couch and walk into the bathroom. I look at my face in the mirror. The skin doesn't look as bad as it did yesterday. Not sure why that is, no way it could heal this fast.

"What are your plans?" asks Siger.

"Dunno yet," I reply. "First thing's first, I'd like t' go back to the area you found me, see if it jogs any memories, if y' don't mind."

"Nah, not at all," says Siger.

"By th' way, in case I forget later, I appreciate everythin' yer doin' for me," I say. "Not many people would take a chance on a naked hitchhiker who looks like hamburger meat."

"Don't mention it," says Siger. "I hope those old clothes I dug out for you fit."

"Little long, but they'll do," I say.

"Alright, just lemme jump in the shower and then we'll head out," says Siger.

Japan

General Meyer stands in a large room. Before him is a throne and sitting in it is a man whose face is hidden by the shadows around him. Ninjas surround Meyer, their weapons drawn and prepared to assault him.

"Let him speak," their leader says in Japanese.

"I wanted to thank you for seeing me," says Meyer.

"You speak our language very well, General. Now tell me why you are here."

"My superior, Montclair, has a favor to ask," replies Meyer.

"You may now leave, General."

"Leave?" asks Meyer. "But wait—"

"My business with Montclair was concluded some time ago, I have no desire to assist him any longer."

"It concerns a former... associate of yours," says Meyer.

"You heard the master," says a woman standing by his side.

"Hold Lotus."

"But Master Shredder..."

"I said hold," he repeats himself. He turns his attention towards General Meyer. "You have intrigued me, General. Tell me who you speak of."

"Logan," says Meyer.

"Where?" asks the Shredder.

"America," replies Meyer. "Specifically New Mexico, in the Almagordo area."

"Return to your superior and tell him I will see to it that Logan is destroyed," says the Shredder.

"We appreciate your help," says Meyer. He turns on his heel and walks out of the room, with two ninjas following him to escort him out.

"My lord, if I may..." begins Lotus. "Who is this man?"

The Shredder looks at the ninjas who surround him.

"Leave us," he says.

The ninjas follow the order and depart from the chamber. The Shredder stands as they depart and walks to the doors. He closes them behind the ninjas and turns back to face Lotus. He reaches his hands up and removes the metal helmet and mask he wears to conceal his face. For the first time, Lotus sees the face of the head of the Foot Clan. And she sees three scars on the left side of his face.

"Surely you remember the incident with the Hand and Kuroyama?" asks the Shredder. Lotus nods, and he continues. "During that incident, the creatures who have proved a thorn in our side in the past were allied with another—a man who had a connection to Kuroyama and the Hand. Do you remember him?"

"Yes," replies Lotus.

"That man was Logan, or Wolverine as he's known," says the Shredder.

"But how did you meet him?" asks Lotus. "Why do you hate him to the point where you're willing to delay our plans?"

"I did not start out as a member of the Foot Clan," replies the Shredder. "At first, I was an independent assassin. I did some contract work for this Montclair that the General mentioned. I killed the wrong person, however. A man who worked with the Canadian Secret Service. In retaliation, they sent an operative after me."

"Wolverine..." says Lotus.

"Yes," says the Shredder. "But in those days, he was called Weapon X. He came after me and we fought."

The Shredder motions to the scars on his face as he says, "he's the one who did this to my face. I was near death, and the Foot Clan intervened. They were able to force him to retreat. The Foot, and my predecessor, Oroku Saki, were watching my movements. Saki planned to recruit me into the Foot. Wolverine's appearence forced him to speed up his plans."

The Shredder places his helmet back atop his head, and slides the metal mask over his face once more, leaving only his eyes visible. He turns away from Lotus and opens the doors. Before he steps out, he speaks.

"You are in charge while I am gone."

"You're going?" asks Lotus.

"I must," replies the Shredder. "Kagemusha is not yet ready, and I need someone I can trust to stay behind. This is a matter of a blood debt, Lotus."

"I understand," says Lotus.

New York

John Wraith tries to relax as much as he can while sitting on a bare floor in what is basically an empty apartment. Across from him sits the old, blind man known only as Stick, who seems quite comfortable.

"How?" asks Stick.

"Dunno," replies Wraith. "Not too long ago, LL&L mystics detected an anomaly in Almagordo. Specifically at the Shadow King's old stomping grounds."

"There was much going on there, are you sure it wasn't just residual effects?" asks Stick.

"Well, that's what we thought, too," replies Wraith. "But according to our intel, the impressions were far too strong."

"What happened next?" asks Stick.

"Obviously we were curious, so we sent a team to investigate," replies Wraith. "What the team found was the remains of two men dressed in haz-mat suits. They were killed. Autopsy confirmed that it was through the use of bladed weapons. Traces of adamantium were found on the wounds. We also found blood and pieces of charred skin amidst the rubble. Tests were done, and they directly match Logan's DNA."

Wraith reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a cigar. He places it between his lips and lights it.

"Smoke?" he asks. Stick shakes his head no. Wraith stands and stretches a bit. He takes off his hat and scratches his head before replacing it. He leans against the wall and looks around the room.

"What I'm curious about is what happened down there," says Wraith. "LL&L's main goal right now is to get all the pieces in place. We want to know what happened. That base went nuclear, Stick. How is it possible that anyone, even someone with Logan's healing abilities, could have survived a Manhattan Project-style blast at ground zero?"

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth than any of us are aware of, Wraith," says Stick. "Logan's been cheating death for decades. It doesn't surprise me that he's done it again."

"Listen, these men we found... we ran a check," says Wraith. "We can't find any record of them in any database in any dimension. Officially, they don't exist. In the past, I would've said it was impossible for anyone to stay under LL&L's radar. But somehow, these guys have managed to do it. And I don't think they have the resources to do this on their own."

"What does this have to do with me, Expeditor?" asks Stick. "I've no interest in LL&L."

"Listen up, Stick, we're on the same side here," replies Wraith. "These two men that Logan killed, whoever they're working for, is the enemy. And this is an enemy with the resources to completely avoid LL&L's detection. That poses an extreme danger for not only you and me, but the multiverse as a whole."

"Get to the point," says Stick.

"Tell me where Gateway is."

New Mexico

This place smells familiar.

I told Siger to stay back while I come here an' explore.

This is where I woke up. Covered in rubble, not able to remember a blasted thing.

Except for her face.

Mediterrenean features. Long, silky hair. Dark eyes.

She was beautiful.

But who is she...?

I close my eyes and breathe in the scents around me.

"Anything you ask, it will be yours."

"There is one thing. If you could marry us, your majesty, that would pay the debt..."

My eyes snap open as I jolt myself back to reality.

She was there. I was there. But we weren't here. We were... somewhere else?

Did it even happen? Did I just imagine it? Was it all a dream?

The bodies are gone. The men who were here when I woke up... I killed them. I don't know why, but I killed them. It was an instinct. Is that what I am? A killer?

I turn away from the rubble and walk back. It's about a ten, fifteen minute walk to the spot Siger sits in his car. He waits in the driver's seat, the engine still running. I climb into the passenger seat. The air conditioning feels nice on my skin, which still looks like tenderized meat.

"Find what you were looking for, Jacob?" asks Siger.

"Nope," I reply. "Let's head back into town. I could really use a beer."

New York

"What are you talking about?" asks Stick.

"Don't play dumb with me, old man, you know exactly what I'm talking about," replies Wraith. "Gateway. Old guy, aborigine. Doesn't wear much and says even less. But he always has a penchant for being there right when you need a teleporter."

"I know who Gateway is, but what does he have to do with this?" asks Stick.

"Way I see it, there are only two people who could have taken Logan out of harm's way from that blast," replies Wraith. "Myself and Gateway. And I sure as shit know it wasn't me."

"I haven't seen him," says Stick.

"That means it falls on your shoulders to find him," says Wraith. "I have some other business to attend to first. You see if you can track down Gateway. I'll meet up with you later."

With that, Wraith teleports from the apartment, leaving Stick in a room of darkness.

New Mexico

The man who calls himself Jacob sits at the bar, with a bottle of beer sitting in front of him. A few other empty bottles also sit on the bar. Chris Siger is still on his first bottle.

"How are you not trashed?" asks Siger.

"Dunno," replies Jacob. "Just lucky I guess."

"I'll be right back, I have to make a phone call," says Siger. He gets up from the bar and walks towards the payphones in the back. Jacob watches him with curiosity in his eyes.

When Jacob turns his attention back to his drinking, he finds the empty stool next to him has suddenly become occupied by a very large, burly man with straggly hair, an unshaven face, and a treach coat complete with fur collar.

"Jack Daniels, an' leave the bottle," he says. The barkeep places a bottle of whiskey in front of the man and opens it up.

"You want it straight?" asks the barkeep.

"Ferget the glass, just leave the bottle," replies the man. He takes the bottle and begins to drink from it.

"That's how real men drink, am I right, runt?"

Jacob's eyes suddenly go wide as those words and the voice strike a chord in his memory. He looks up at the man.

"I know you, bub?" asks Jacob.

"Yeah, I'd say so," replies the man. His arm shoots out and wraps around Jacob's throat. He pulls Jacob so that his eyes are inches from the man's throat. The man points a clawed finger at a scar under his chin.

"See that?" he asks. "That's what you did t' me."

Using all his strength, he throws Jacob across the room and into the far wall. The man stretches his body out and smiles at Jacob, his fangs plainly visible.

"Whatsamatter, pops?" he asks. "Y' don't recognize yer own son?"