The wall was broken through, an alarm screeched and everyone took an instinctively defensive position.

Nightwing's crouched by me, the others are a the wall, fierce and determined, ready for a fight.

The X-men in the window are freaking out, in seconds Cyclops, ShadowCat and Nightcrawler are in the room, along with the smell of sulfur.

The dirt-smoke starts to clear, and a red and yellow mechanical arm waves to whoever's out side. Finally I can see the entire intruder.

I narrow my eyes and mentally say, "Darn it Tony Stark! What are you doing here?"

Stark glances up and replies agitated and very much allowed, "Hey! Don't do that, it's not fair!"

I smile. "It's perfectly fair!" Then I change the subject, "What are you doing anyway?"

"What, I'm not allowed to check up on my injured niece-who's-not-really-my-niece?"

Yep. Tony Stark's my "Uncle" He and my dad have been friends since forever, despite being fierce competitors in the technology industry, they usually swap designs for advice or help. They specialize in different parts of engineering so they actually end up with better products when they edit them like this. Surprisingly, no design has ever been stolen, but I'm always sure to keep an eye on my "uncle".

The X-Men are now really confused, my team knows a little about the other half of my life, the non-super hero part.

A couple me people enter through the newly "constructed" door. Thor, two S.H.E.I.L.D agents (Hawkeye and Black Widow), Panther, Wasp, Hulk, Gi-Ant Man and Captain America are now crowded into the little room.

Great, just what I needed. Trouble.

Within about five minutes everyone's been ushered out of the room and into the dining hall. The professor hands me some dark jeans, a purple and Turquoise t-shirt with ¾ sleeves along with my leather boots. Then I see it, that enormous gash running from my collarbone, across my body and ending on my lower thigh. It must have been reopened some how, this wound scarred up a long time ago. What did this to me? Not the brotherhood or Sabertooth. It had to be something else. I change quickly and head down to the dining room thinking. What did this to me?

Unfortunately, no one downstairs could answer my question.

"Are you certain is didn't simply reopen? Are you sure it was all the way healed?" Beast questions me.

"Yes. Yes!" I growl at him. "I've had the scar for over a year now!"

"Might I ask who gave this wound to you?" Professor X asks me.

"I can't pronounce his name but he was the king of some war planet, it took all of Young Justice and the League to bring him down. I nearly died because of his wicked looking scythe."

"Wasn't it poison-dipped or magic or something like that?" Gray added.

"I think so…something like that."

"All I remember is your twin blades being cut down to the hilt. Did you ever replace those?" Aqualad says, entering the conversation.

"you can handle twin swords? Aren't you a little…little for those?" Wolverine comments.

I roll my eyes, "Yeah. And I'm not that small! You're just huge." I'm 5ft 11in! And besides I'm only 16!

Wolverine chuckles, "I'll bet you could hardly lift them!"

I glare at him, "Oh, yeah? I'll bet I could keep up with you even when I'm like this!"

Wolverine laughs, "All right, Bub. The Twins are downstairs, lets have a friendly spar."

I head downstairs and find the armory. I pick out a set of twin swords (the smallest set, because wolverine does actually use his swords) and weigh them. Not bad, pretty well balanced, though I would prefer my own Twins.

I make my way back up stairs. I'm pumped, I'm happy to have a chance to practice swordplay again, it always relaxes me, it can take my mind off anything.

Wolverine is waiting in the back of the mansion. Professor and Beast are waiting with everyone else to make sure I don't over-exert myself.

I take a ready position, perched on the balls of my feet; I can't win this fight by sheer strength. A quick, hit and run attack is going to be my best friend.

I nod and Wolverine begins to move to my right. I move to the left. Slowly we circle each other. We need to fight, but not each other, it's ourselves we're fighting. We're testing ourselves. Speed and wit vs. massive power with a sharp mind. My most challenging spar in a while.

Wolverine lunges, sword down near his legs, ready to strike upwards. I grin.