"Do you even know who I am?"

Inside the glass containment unit, the blonde man thrashed against his restraints. The large feathered wings from his back continually smashed against the thick glass to no avail. From the outside, there wasn't an ounce of give in the cannister-like container; it remained perfectly stable amidst the wall of identical units.

"Warren Worthington the Third," A masculine monotone voice replied, "But that name won't carry any weight here."

"My father-"

"Your father?" The voice almost seemed humoured at the mention. The corners of the shadowy figure's mouth twitched upwards at the evocation of the senior Worthington. "It was your father who asked for you to be purified. He wants this for you."

"Liar!" Warren screeched, "When I get out of here, I will drag you for every cent you're worth, you won't see the light from outside of a cell for the rest of your miserable little life!"

"My child," The silhouette replied again, "I think you've grossly overestimated your power here." He stood clapping his hands together as light suddenly appeared in the dimly lit hallway. Across from Warren was the containment cell of another young man, this one seemed to be covered in a layer of ice. Frost covered most of the inside of the glass that surrounded him while condensation from the exterior dripped onto the filthy concrete floor.

"Robert, would you mind telling Warren exactly when he'll get out of here?" The man asked, stepping into the light enough for Warren to see he was dressed in some sort of robes, a stiff collar wrapped around his neck.

A roar suddenly interrupted the dialogue, taking Warren's attention from the ice man to elsewhere. His eyes swivelled from side to side before a glimpse of blue fur caught his attention. Within yet another occupied containment cannister was a large animal-like figure. Its features were indiscernible with traits of canine, primate and feline all mashed together atop a vaguely humanoid body.

"Ah, Dr. McCoy," Their captor stated, "You're awake. Warren, Robert, this is Henry McCoy. Like both of you, he has a particularly obvious and repulsive mutation. Though unlike either of you, Dr. McCoy at least had the self-awareness to seek a cure. Unfortunately," The cloaked silhouette gestured vaguely towards Henry.

"It didn't work. In fact, I would say it made you that much worse, Doctor." He gloated, eagerly rubbing his hands together. "You can't cure what you have. It's a part of you, you're born with it. Contaminated from birth, there is no changing what you are. Vile, disgusting, a blight upon humanity. We can only hope that if we purify the Earth of you and your kind, mankind will be saved."

"Go to Hell!" Spat Robert from behind the robe-adorned man. The edges of their abductor's mouth undeniably turned upward at Robert's open hostility to his captor.

"I'm afraid, you're already there." Came the response before a snap of his fingers cut the lights again. Growls of protest echoed from Henry's container while Warren could hear Robert banging against the barrier of his own container. Shattering ice echoed through the dark, narrow hallways. Then, from within that same darkness, Warren could feel the man's eyes looking at him as though he were trying to stare into his soul.

Panic set in rapidly as he, too, began to flail about in his container, a sixth sense telling him that if ever there was a time to fight, it was now.

"Gas them both."

The words cut through Warren like a hot knife. His chest tightened as he held his breath. Vents above him began to spew a coloured vapour. Bloody wings and knuckles fought against the glass to no avail. Agony ripped across his body as the corrosive gas ate away at feather then skin. Muscles were next, very quickly followed by bone.

A chorus of screams followed the robed man as he walked towards the exit. It was a small step, but one that had made the world just a little more...

"...Rose!"

The word escapes from between his lips. His throat was dry and coarse, the smell of smoke and salt filling his lungs as he jolted awake. Metal on metal echoed on either side of Logan while the sound of spilling sand followed, sticking to the warm blood that freshly trickled from between his knuckles. Red hair, lingering scents, green eyes and a taste that was better than any meal he ever had all hung to his senses. The fog of grogginess began to dissipate as Logan pulled himself together, retracting his claws before running a hand absently over the fresh scratches on the side of his makeshift bunk.

Standing from the sandbags he had claimed as a bed, Logan walked on deck of the small ship just in time to see their approach to Hamburg. From here, he and Kitty would have to continue on land, especially since they were expected by his contact due South, in Munich. Hamburg was barely a stop.

"Get any sleep, Kat?" Logan asked, announcing his presence before the lithe brunette turned to look at him. The bags under her eyes answered for her.

"Every time I close my eyes, I just see him," She stated, "Lying there, dead." Her mind drifted back to Madripoor, back to Ogun's manipulations, the imprinted memories, skills and directives that were going to plague her forever. Their attackers, these 'Purifiers', had gunned her father down mercilessly, like he was a rabid animal. The moment he had risen in her defense, they looked at her no differently than they looked at Logan.

Dressed in black and red armour atop what had looked like robes, the Purifiers cut an intimidating figure as they marched upon both Kitty and Logan in Madripoor. An emblazoned white cross was draped across their chests, rotated to a forty-five-degree angle, making it appear more like an 'X' than a traditional cross. Each of them bore a fully automatic firearm, with magazines full of Vibranium bullets that only seemingly left Logan unharmed. Even their melee weapons had been made of Vibranium, reducing Kitty's katanas to broken shards of steel.

Once again, Kitty's mind was haunted by the image of her father's dead body. Cut down by a rain of bullets and left in the street like gutter trash. There had been no time for a goodbye, let alone a proper burial. Logan and his contacts had gotten her out of Madripoor quickly, flying to Japan, then to the United Kingdom, before they boarded the boat they were currently on.

There was no rhyme or reason to their path, Logan simply wanted to put as much distance as he could between them and the Purifiers. Officially, the Purifiers were an extremist group; unofficially, it wouldn't surprise Kitty if Maxwell Lord had knighted them as his own personal hit-squad. They were brazen enough to act above the law, whether ordained or not. But if that was true, they had no authority outside of America. Madripoor was an exception, but here, in Europe, they wouldn't dare be so bold. It also meant they had to be that much more careful.

Kitty had never been to Germany before.

It was far enough from Lord's reach, but certainly not his impact. Across from her, Logan took a drag off his cigar while Kitty crinkled her nose once again at the smell before continuing her meal. She didn't remember landing in Hamburg, and she certainly didn't remember making her way halfway across the country to Munich. She had been so lost in her thoughts, she was functioning purely on autopilot, blindly trusting the man she had previously tried to kill to safely escort her. Looking around, the first thing that Kitty noticed was how busy the streets were here. No one paid any mind to the pair as they sat on the patio enjoying a quaint meal.

The food was good, but Kitty still missed home. Not that the home she came from was one she'd even recognize anymore. If people were suspicious of capes and vigilantes who were out there using their powers to at least make a difference, then there was no way of predicting how afraid they'd be of two mutants having a meal in the middle of a busy city.

Especially when one could tank a small army while the other could walk through bank walls.

"Who are we meeting?" Kitty asked, interrupting the silence as Logan raised a bushy brow towards her, barely grunting an acknowledgement. His nostril flared, something on the wind catching his attention. He raised a hand, the subtle smell of Vibranium drifting across the Southern breeze as Logan strained his ears to catch and discourse he could. If there was Vibranium, there was likely a Purifier attached to it. The din of the crowd was nearly overwhelming, but he slowly began to filter through the noise until he found what he was looking for.

"Herr Getmann's Travelling Menagerie..." The radio crackled, "There's a mutant acrobat."

"What is it?" Kitty asked as Logan grunted again.

"They're here, not for us." He replied before burying himself back in his beer. Blinking several times, Kitty found herself flabbergasted at Logan's complete disinterest in stopping the Purifiers.

"We have to help," Kitty protested, "We can't let them just keep killing mutants."

"Their own fault for travelling as part of a circus. Painted a damn target on their dumb face." Logan replied dismissively, waving the waitress over to pay their bill.

"They couldn't have possibly known-" Kitty argued, before being cut short by the arrival of their waitress.

"Americans!" The waitress exclaimed, "Are you tourists in our fair city?"

"Canadian."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He's actually Canadian," Kitty replied, "Sorry for my stepfather's rudeness."

"I thought Canadians were the polite ones,"

"Common misconception," Kitty replied, "Sorry, could you tell me where the ladies' room is?"

"Of course, it's just inside. Take the first left and it'll be at the end on the right,"

"Thank you!" Kitty replied, excusing herself quickly while Logan reached for his wallet.

"She's a great girl!" The waitress stated, trying to make conversation, as Logan merely grunted. He took another sniff of the air; he already knew Kitty was gone. He just needed to confirm how fast she was moving.

"She's something," Logan grumbled. He could still feel bruises from his last encounter with the Purifiers' bullets. He and Kitty were going to sit down and have a long talk after this. Apparently the girl loved to run straight into the fire.

Kitty was heading to the circus.

As Superboy nodded, Troia moved forward with all her might. Sheathing her weapon and saddling her shield across her back, Troia quickly freed her hands before using them to tightly grip Cinderblock's arm. On the other side of the stone behemoth was Superboy, helping to pilot the blockman into the air as they shakily gained height. Cinderblock continued to struggle, letting out a frustrated roar as his skin fractured beneath the crushing grip of either Titan. Lashing out, he managed to kick a nearby antenna before one final push from Wonder Girl and Superboy finally had him free of the city.

Behind the pair, Jupiter deftly piloted the T-Bird. The whole fight had been broadcast to rally further support for the Titans. Jupiter had to admit that moving the fight out of the city was a good call, that would surely get them some support, if at the very least from the civilians exhausted with paying into their insurance.

Perhaps it was his pride, but Jupiter realized all too late that Cinderblock had managed to rip an arm free, using the momentum to hurl himself back toward the T-Bird. Attempting evasive maneuvers, Jupiter was too late as the falling boulder of a man cleaved a wing from the aircraft, sending it into a downward spin as the Titans' sponsor quickly found himself out of his depth, unable to regain control of the vehicle. Cinderblock, meanwhile, was happy to allow gravity to propel him back towards the city. At this height and his weight, he'd achieve terminal velocity in seconds, turning himself into a devastating meteor.

Troia gasped in horror at how quickly the situation had gotten out of hand and cursed herself for not simply ending this her way.

"I'm not fast enough to get to Cinderblock, go!" She ordered Superboy before pivoting and flying towards the T-Bird. She cursed herself for not bringing the Emerald Paladin along. She had underestimated Cinderblock's intelligence, and now there was a price to pay.

Surely her teammates investigating the breakout site were doing better.

Music blared over the din of the crowd while the aromas of fried food attempted to drown out the stench of hay and farm animals that hung over the circus. Exotic creatures from faraway lands were situated around the big top at the center of the grounds, surrounded by trampled and dying grass that was littered with peanuts and popcorn haphazardly dropped by eager children and absentminded parents. Excited cries and general merriment filled the air of Herr Getmann's Travelling Menagerie, but it wasn't for the Ferris wheel, the funnel cake, nor even the elephants.

It was for the mutants.

The Toad and his Terrific Tongue, the Wildemann; Savage of the North, the Incredible Nightcrawler and of course, Herr Getmann's prized mutate, the Mesmerizing Menagerie! A young man whose skin had been changed into a vibrant veridian and was capable of transforming into any animal, extinct, mythical or otherwise. Despite his prized status, however, he was forced to sit in nothing more than a glorified cage, an inhibitor collar firmly affixed to his neck.

A mournful cry escaped from the harmonica cupped firmly between the hands of Menagerie. It had been so long since he had been called anything but his show name that his real name, his birthname, felt like a distant memory, a foreign name. There was the accident, the blood transfusion and then the metabomb.

Gar-

"Another sound and I will reach through this damn cage and shove that mouth organ so far down your throat that my fist comes out the other end!"

Beside Menagerie, the Wildemann menacingly paced back and forth, claws dragging across the reinforced bars before alternating to the collar firmly affixed to his neck. The newest addition to Herr Getmann, the Wildemann, was not yet broken like the others. He let out a savage roar, smashing against the bars, lunging towards Menagerie who cowered into the furthest corner. Flecks of silver streaked through the otherwise dirty blonde mane of the much larger man, betraying his age as he continued to rebel against his restraints.

"I'll taste the blood of everyone in this damn circus!"

"Mein freund," Glowing amber eyes peered out from a cage situated across from the Wildemann, "You will not escape, diese collars are quite unbreakable." The blue face behind the luminescent eyes smiled, baring pointed canines as friendly as he could. The Wildemann replied by baring his teeth, jagged and yellowed, each stained with the blood of more than one of the circus's overzealous enforcers.

"They almost didn't get me in this cage." He growled in response, licking some dried blood from one of his claws. "You don't understand, boy, it's only a matter of time." Claws wrapped around the bars closest to the young man, coated head to tail in fine blue fur.

"They didn't lock away the monster," Wildemann smiled, "They locked themselves in with it."

"Du are not the first eins who did not cooperate. Du will not sein the last, I am very sure of das."

Wildemann snarled in response, smashing his hands against the bars again before reaching for the collar around his neck and prying at it until it finally gave off a warning shock. He angrily slammed a fist into the floor of his cage while a vindicated grin crossed Menagerie's face. Toad's laughter echoed through the tent surrounding their cages only further enraging Wildemann.

"Gott, gib mir die Gelassenheit, Dinge hinzunehmen, die ich nicht ändern kann, den Mut, Dinge zu ändern, die ich ändern kann, und die Weisheit, das eine vom anderen zu unterscheiden." Across the walkwall, Nightcrawler had resigned himself to a posture of prayer which did nothing to sooth the wild man.

"Then yer a coward with a belly as yellow as them eyes." He snapped, causing Nightcrawler to open a surprised eye towards the brutish mutant.

"Courage to accept the things you can't, bah! You make me sick."

"Hardly seems fair that wir don't even know your real name, and yet du hast threatened us and hurled insults the entire time du hast been here."

"Names don't matter when the only thing you'll hear is the rushing of yer blood before choking on it."

"Dude, you are seriously crashing the mode," Menagerie finally piped up. "You like, really think we all just want to sit in cages and be here? I'd love to get out of here, find myself a baddie goth girlfriend and never have to transform on command ever again."

"Oh yeah, that told 'im." Toad piped in, "Good on ye, telling the big scary man that you sit around in a cage and dream of tits." He snickered, "Real high bar you're setting there, Mr. Headliner. Should we all just turn our backs so you can rub one out, or do you prefer being watched?"

"Toad." Nightcrawler held up his hand, "Das enough."

"Oh, most sincere apologies, Father Wagner." Toad mockingly curtsied. "Hey, I know what'll cheer everyone up, why don't you tell the bombastic baglady claws where you'd go if you got free?"

Nightcrawler remained quiet, hestitantly shuffling his feet in his cell, his prehensile tail flicking anxiously behind him, before Menagerie broke the heavy silence.

"C'mon, dude, Kurt, just tell him where you want to go."

"Genosha," Kurt replied, "I've heard Genosha is an island nation open to mutants of all abilities and appearances, a haven for our kind where we don't have to live in cages just to be accepted."

"Genosha is nothing but a fairy tale for gullible little idiots like you."

This time Todd was laughing at Nightcrawler's expense as Wildemann smugly crossed his arms.

"Genosha, heh, you're even dumber than you look."

"Actually, and like I hate to be the know-it-all in the room," A woman's voice suddenly interrupted the four other mutants. "Genosha is as real as Wakanda. I can point both out on a map if you'd like. Atlantis, on the other hand, is a lot harder to pinpoint; it's bigger than people think."

"Scheiße!" Kurt exclaimed, his eyes wide at the sight of the girl phasing through the wall. "Liebling, that is quite a gift du have da."

"Looks like you've got a few gifts of your own," Kitty replied, "You can call me Ariel, I'm here to get you out before something far worse than these cages happens to you."

"Au chante, Fräulein., I am Kurt Wagner, but here I am the Incredible Nightcrawler," Kurt beamed, immediately smitten with the lithe brunette. He pointed to the collar around his own neck before gesturing with one of his fingers to the others. "Du will need to turn off the main controller to disable the collars."

"Or I can phase my hand through your collars and disable it." Kitty replied, stepping into Nightcrawler's cage and passing her hand through the collar. The blinking red light suddenly went static before the distinct hum stopped. Taking hold of the collar, the brunette phased it off of Kurt's neck before looking up at him, smiling. Their eyes met as Nightcrawler flashed his pointed canines in a thrilled grin.

"Ja! Das could work."