Tears streamed down the face of the man once known as Wolverine. He couldn't believe what he felt. He alternated between laughing and sobbing. He couldn't remember when he felt so alive.
"Is it always like this?" he asked Rahne, who was sitting next to him crying her own tears of joy.
"No — for me it wasn't. I think it's different for everybody."
"I believe ... I so much believe now ... It was like having the weight of the world taken off my shoulders. I feel so ... clean! It's like the man I used to be is DEAD now. I don't know what to do ... Am I supposed to sing or something?"
Rahne laughed hysterically. "No ... You can if you want."
"This is so real. So real. I never would have believed I could feel so sure about something I can't see, or hear, or touch." He smiled at her. "Thank you for putting up with me ... I know I can be a real ogre sometimes. I gotta change that. I gotta change a lot of things."
He looked down at his hands, and his face became somewhat less peaceful. My claws, he thought. What good are they now?
Alarmed, he turned to Rahne and said, "This changes everything. What kind of life am I supposed to live now? I'm a living weapon — a killing machine if there ever was one. Everything about me is designed to kill people — not love 'em. I even named myself after a lethal predator. What good is a Wolverine that can't kill?"
Rahne had no answer for him. She was still struggling with the same question herself for a long time now. She started to speak, but couldn't think of anything to comfort him. Now ye know how I've felt all along. Whether it's ever right to take a life is a question I haven't answered yet. You tried to persuade me otherwise, but now you see it the way I do, only for you it's so much worse. I'm so sorry that ye have to go through this.
"Oh God, oh God, what do I do?" He was holding his head in his hands and hyperventilating.
"Logan! Logan, calm down ... it's not the end of the world. You just have to find your place." How I wish I could find my own ... Lord, help us both to do what You'd have us to.
"I mean, it's a commandment or something, right? What does it say? Will I lose this if I kill again? Will I go to hell?"
"It's a commandment, but I believe that the translation should be 'murder', not kill. Most of the time, I do believe that killing is wrong—horribly wrong! But I do believe that some people should be killed, if that's the only way to stop them. I don't know if I could ever do it, and I pray I'll never kill in anger."
"Are you sure?" Wolverine was in turmoil.
"No. I'm not. I'm sorry, I wish I could help more ... but theologians have debated about this for centuries! I know it must be harder for you than it is for me."
"I never dreamed I'd be feeling what I am right now. It doesn't make sense. I was born this way, so God must have a reason for it. Don't you think?"
"Yes, I do. I'm not sure what, though. One thing I do know ... we should make up our minds how we feel about this before joining our teams again." If we make it home alive, that is.
"Yeah," Logan nodded. He sighed heavily, still overwhelmed by the vast array of emotions he was experiencing.
Rahne spent the rest of the day answering Logan's questions about the faith he had just found and sharing some of her favorite scriptures with him. They scarcely stopped to eat. Finally the sky darkened and they looked up through the rift at a large yellow full moon.
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