#cybeam

          𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 —– glistening, dripping, red dotting the surface of each blade. you remember very little about the claws you were born with. the ones plucked from your skeleton and were coated in adamantium. DEADLIER, UGLIER, AND EVEN MORE ENHANCING. they had morphed you into a perfected predator / the ultimate killer. the metallic scent of blood still lingers in the air, continuing to ooze out of fallen corpses littering the ground. mostly from your own doing.

❝ i am, too. ❞ once cyclops walks into your field of vision, you turn your head —– the warehouse had fallen silent in the aftermath of the attack. the wind blows from the north —– a window is cracked upstairs; it's all you need to make out the scent of more purifiers. more than twenty, from what you can gather. an exasperated groan manages to crawl up your throat and escape; you begin making your way towards the back exit. ❝ more are approaching. ❞ peering out a frosty window, the illuminating lights of flashlights begin encroaching on the surrounding area. nothing you can't handle. you've dealt with worse. a haste plan is quickly hatched, your attention craning back to the x-force leader.