Logan Howlett

Logan stood in the doorway of the apartment, flanked by Ororo Munroe (Storm) on one side and Scott Summers (Cyclops) on the other, with Jean Grey hot on his heels. He couldn't shake the irritation that simmered beneath his skin. Four X-Men, including himself, sent on a mission to rescue a little girl? It seemed excessive. Sure, the kid was a vigilante, maybe a bit rough around the edges, but Logan was confident he could have handled the situation alone. This wasn't the kind of mission that required an entire squad.

Logan flexed his hand, cracking his knuckles as he prepared to knock. His instinct told him something was wrong, but he dismissed it. He pounded on the door; the sharp blows echoed down the hall.

"Is anyone here?"

He growled, his voice harsher than he intended, though he doubted anyone nearby cared. There was no reply. Not a sound from inside the apartment.

Her lips twitched in frustration.

"Did I say there's anyone here?"

He knocked again, this time louder. His patience was wearing thin. He glanced at the others, noticing Scott's tense posture and the slight concern on Ororo's face, but Logan remained focused on the door.

There is no answer.