The aged man sits at the table of the makeshift home made from an abandoned smelting plant. The smell of iron permeates the walls, but he's long gotten used to it by now.

His name? Logan howlett, the wolverine. A man from a distant time and a distant world, thrust into a world he never could've imagined. A war with no sides. A war without reason.

He gets a notification on his phone for his limo job. With a grunt he rises, picking up the limos keys and shoving his black dress shirt on