The world was quiet here.
Not silent, not dead—just... still.
Winds rolled gently across the Mississippi plains, rustling the trees that bordered the old log cabin. A single porch light flickered above a wooden chair where a woman sat, wrapped in a blanket, a cold cup of tea untouched beside her.
Anna Marie—Rogue, once of the X-Men, now of nowhere—watched the sky with tired eyes.
Something was coming.
She didn't know how she knew. It wasn't her mutant powers or some leftover sixth sense from years of fighting side by side with psychics and gods. It was just a feeling. A tension in the air. The same feeling she had the night before the Phoenix returned… or the time Xavier died.
But this time, the fear didn't come from what might be lost.
It came from what might be found.
---
Garou tore through the clouds like a meteor.
He had entered Earth's atmosphere without a word, without a threat. Satellites tried to track him, but his energy signature overwhelmed their systems. He didn't blaze with fire or radiation—he moved like inevitability.
The scent of Earth filled his lungs as he landed in the empty field outside the forest, bare feet sinking into the soft ground.
He stood still for a moment, eyes scanning the sky.
No heroes came.
No soldiers. No gods. No warnings.
Only birds scattered into the air.
Good, he thought. Let them come when they're ready.
He turned toward the trees.
There was something here. Something… still. Alive, but not fighting. A quiet soul in a world too loud.
---
Anna watched him emerge from the trees like a shadow peeling itself from the night.
She stood slowly, leaving her blanket on the chair. Her hands trembled slightly, but her eyes were calm.
She knew power when she saw it.
She'd seen Apocalypse. She'd stood beside Magneto. She'd touched Carol Danvers and burned with cosmic might for months.
But this man?
He didn't radiate energy.
He radiated defiance.
She crossed her arms. "You lost?"
Garou tilted his head.
"I never get lost," he said simply. "I go where the strong are."
Anna raised an eyebrow. "You'll find disappointment here. Ain't much strength in hiding."
Garou stepped closer. He could feel her—this woman, this mutant. Her aura was… unusual. Guarded. Like a blade kept sheathed for fear of cutting too deep.
"You're not afraid," he said.
"Should I be?"
Garou shrugged. "That depends. Are you going to try to stop me?"
Anna's mouth quirked into a dry smile. "If I had a nickel for every god-tier being who landed in my yard wantin' a fight..."
She paused. "You don't look like you're here to destroy the world."
"I'm not," Garou said. "Not unless it makes me."
That made her smile for real. Bitter. Amused. "Ain't that the same thing, sugar?"
---
They sat on the porch.
The wind picked up, carrying the scent of pine and smoke.
Garou remained standing for a while, his body still wired for war. But slowly, he sat—one leg up, elbow resting on his knee.
"You're strong," he said after a while.
Anna's fingers curled around her cup. "Strong enough to ruin lives with a touch."
He looked at her, his golden eyes piercing but not unkind. "You mean your power."
She nodded. "They call me Rogue. I take what I touch. Memories. Powers. Sometimes souls."
Garou looked down at his hands. "I know what that's like."
She blinked. "You… do?"
"I've been absorbing skills, traits, instincts across worlds. Not because I want to... but because I can't stop." He flexed his fingers, watching the scars shift and fade. "At first, I just copied techniques. Then... I became them. Every fight adds to the chaos."
"And every win makes you lonelier," she said softly.
He looked up.
She met his eyes, the kind of look only someone truly alone could understand.
Rogue shifted in her seat. "I used to be part of somethin'. The X-Men. Family, they said. But after everything I absorbed… everyone I hurt—some stopped lookin' at me like I was a person."
Garou said nothing.
She took a breath. "You don't talk like most big bads I've met."
"I'm not a villain," he said. "Not anymore."
"Then what are you?"
He thought for a moment.
"Free."
---
They sat in silence again, this time not awkward, but heavy.
Companionable.
Something unspoken passed between them. The unspoken ache of people who had long since given up hope of ever being touched—physically or emotionally—without consequence.
Then she asked, carefully: "Why Earth?"
Garou glanced toward the stars.
"I followed a signal. A trace of energy that didn't belong here. Something ancient. Twisted. Watching everything."
Anna stiffened. "You mean… the One Above All? Or…"
He shook his head.
"Older than that. A rot beneath the surface. A false god pretending to be the foundation."
She swallowed. "You mean the one who keeps resetting things. Keeping this world in cycles of pain and rebirth?"
Garou's voice dropped to a whisper.
"The one who thinks balance is peace."
Rogue stood, clutching her arms.
"I've felt it too," she admitted. "Ever since Krakoa fell. Since the timelines collapsed. Like some hand was always guiding us back into misery."
Garou stood as well. "That's why I'm here. To break it."
She turned to face him.
"And what if I asked you not to?"
He blinked. "Why?"
She stepped closer.
"Because even if it's wrong—even if it's pain—some of us made peace with what we have. You break the system, you break the lives built inside it."
Garou looked at her then—not as a fighter, not as a mutant, but as a person.
"I don't want to take your peace away," he said quietly. "But I won't stop either."
Anna held his gaze, emotions stirring in her chest.
"Then stay a while," she said. "One night. One breath. Before you tear down the sky."
He nodded.
---
That night, they didn't sleep.
They talked.
Not about battles or powers.
They talked about music. About favorite foods. About what it felt like to fly—not with strength, but with trust.
Garou told her about a boy he once tried to save. About how he failed, and how that failure shaped the monster he became.
Anna told him about the first boy she kissed—and how he spent two months in a coma afterward.
They laughed.
They cried—quietly, in their own ways.
And when dawn came, Garou stood on the edge of the woods, ready to leave.
Anna watched from the steps. "Where to next?"
Garou didn't answer right away.
Then he said, "To draw them out. The ones behind the veil."
"You'll be painted as the villain again."
He nodded. "Let them try. I'm done running."
She reached up, instinctively. Her gloved fingers brushed his cheek for the briefest moment.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Garou said nothing.
But his eyes softened.
Then he vanished.