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Under the Canadian Rocky Mountains, the X-Men stood in a line of warnings far away, guarding Li Jie and Luo Gen and his son, and not let anyone disturb them.
Luo Gen and his son have been trapped in a maze of hearts built by millennium building blocks by Li Jie in a special way. And using the buddha statue to build a phantom that belongs to them in the mind maze.
The pair of father and son seemed to be in a state of being settled. Logan's face occasionally showed calm, angry, and happy expressions.
But more often, it is an indescribable sadness. Although he was trapped, he fell to the ground weakly.
But he couldn't stop the big tears from his eyes. He curled up his body like a baby who had just left the mother's womb. It looks so weak and helpless.
Many X-Men were frowning and showing worried expressions. Flashing stood with Qin, she arms around Qin's arm and asked worriedly: "Logan, is he alright?"
Qin doesn't know what the situation is now. After all, she couldn't investigate Li Jie's situation now. Li Jie now looks as if he is vigorously stimulating the vision composed of thousands of building blocks and Buddha statues. There is simply no time to explain to others.
Qin could only grin reluctantly: "There should be no problem. Logan was never a tough guy who was beaten down."
Qin didn't know that maybe a tough guy in this world didn't need much cruel torture and torture. The kind of despair that comes from the depths of the soul is the truly terrible thing.
This time Li Jie urged his Buddhist energy so hard, he felt that he had reached the threshold.
Although there is no clear indication, he feels this way in the midst. He felt that Logan was about to come out of the maze of thousands of building blocks.
Li Jie is making the strongest wave of energy output to Logan's final spiritual cleansing. The Dizang Buddha, which was originally only slightly shining, started to shine at this moment.
Everyone knows that Logan is coming back!
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As if caught in a bush of thorns. Every time I move slightly, I will be stabbed by the sharp and sharp shrubs and cut my skin. It left my skin exposed to the air without protection.
Those bushes of thorns pierced my body and injected a highly poisonous chaos into my blood. I do n’t know where to start, and I do n’t know where to end.
I am trapped in this chaotic prison, and I must not reincarnate or detach. Whenever I want to act, those poisons called chaos will corrode my heart.
The air is filled with the smell of blood, which is what I have been diligently seeking for hundreds of years. Only by irrigating this chaotic thorn with the strongest blood can they grow more and more lush.
And I can continue to live in this **** in the way I am used to. I don't want to resist, I don't want to crave hope anymore. Because everything seems so weak.
The messy corpse is my final destination. When claws pierce the chest of any life, the familiar voice, the familiar taste. All this makes me used to it.
I have given up praying when I know that everything is useless. I have struggled desperately hundreds of times over the centuries. Every time when I want to be free, this **** will only bind me tighter.
I gave up my faith and gave up the light.
All of this is so familiar. When I pray for a different start every time, I already know what the final ending looks like in my heart.
They are transformed into different shapes and shapes. But they all have the same taste. Chaos, blood, killing. The lingering nightmare.
Tiredness and boredom wrapped my body. I no longer want to think hard, and I don't want to do any useless work. Because I already know what each ending will be.
No matter what way these things start, they will always end in the same way.
Living forever is an indescribable pain. I personally ended the life of my last old friends. They died with a smile, surpassing everything in this world.
And I was still struggling in this dark and endless hell. Can't see the light and hope. I gave up my thoughts, just want to fall into this dark **** forever.
I would like to use the condition of falling into **** forever, in exchange for my friends, my love. May they be proud of everything that transcends this mundane.
Even if it is trapped in thorns, even if the body is injected with chaotic poison. As long as they are all well, I have no fear.
I will continue to live in this dark **** with my sharp claws. Exhausting the rest of my life to help those who can leave here get rid of it all.
Even though the bushes of thorns are becoming more and more lush, even all of this may be useless ~ www.novelhall.com ~ I only know a little. When darkness came, I could not resist, even praying seemed useless. My enemies, those beasts that live on blood.
I will use your blood to water this thorny **** until they bloom the most beautiful flowers. Bright red like a rose, fiery like a rose.
I will be the only gardener in the dark hell. I will let this thorn grow over the entire hell. Lock all of you so that those bloodthirsty beasts are also trapped in thorns, this is the last destiny of my life.
Like mountains and seas, eternal life is unchanged, I swear by my eternity. ——By James Howlet, John Logan, Wolverine, Wolverine.
With every name I have in my life, every swearing journey. I will fall into **** forever, until this **** is full of beautiful flowers ...
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Logan lay beside a small lake under the Canadian Rocky Mountains, his skin felt the cold and hard touch of wet and cold pebbles.
There is also the smell of the lake water and cedars that enter from the nasal cavity. Everything is so familiar, everything seems to be back in the past.
The era when the war has not yet begun. When the sun shone on him, Logan confirmed that it was not a dream. His eyes, confused by tears, once saw those he wanted to see in his dream.
They ran to themselves with a smile. If this is the last dream before death, please let me die in this dream.
Logan returned from the illusion, and he lay weakly on the ground. Everything seems illusory. He slept tiredly. He came back, it was a little different, and brought back something different.
Maybe everyone has n’t found out yet, but the Wolverine is completely different from the original one. At least he knows his original name is James Howlet! (To be continued ...)