Logan's blade met the next attacker's strike, but his body was beginning to tire, his considerable strength finally approaching its limit against the overwhelming numbers continuing to press forward against him.
He disarmed another soldier, felt a blade graze his shoulder, spun to meet the next challenge, and understood with growing, desperate clarity that ordinary strength alone would not prove sufficient against these carefully trained, numerous forces surrounding him entirely.
*This is not enough,* he thought, blocking another strike that nearly broke through his defense. *I need something more.*
The fractured voice that had haunted him since first hearing it weeks ago, the same voice that had once whispered only the single word *home*, surfaced now with sudden, overwhelming clarity,
