Suddenly, a dull pulse rippled through the air, followed by the faintest sort of low-frequency hum, coming in and out like a heartbeat----just as Logan was hit in the side of the head with the exhaust pipe. He staggered to one side, catching himself on the wall, and he turned back to her as he waited for the gash there to heal.
It didn't.
Logan touched the side of his head, feeling the break in his skin, and he stared. He knew this would happen. He knew about Eleanor Zylstra, knew why she was tactically important. But he also knew that when he was fighting Mystique, that was along the lines of really bad fucking ideas. She couldn't shift and Logan couldn't heal----who was worse off here? Then again----he had adamantium claws and she didn't.
He flexed his hands, expecting to hear the familiar snikt... but nothing happened. His body suddenly felt impossibly heavy, and all that adamantium on his bones could no longer be easily supported. He knew this feeling. He'd had this feeling before, right before he was pumped full of bullets.
God damn that Zylstra woman.
But Logan still had adamantium in his body, and even though he was heavy and sluggish, he swung out his arm to clock Mystique in the jaw.