Xcalibur Xc
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[Ironman] Ch: 144 [Lorna Dane]
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 22:22:44 +0000 UTC[Meanwhile] [Pennsylvania]
Lorna Dane was twenty-one years old, living a life that, on the surface, looked completely ordinary. She shared a modest apartment with her aunt and uncle, the Dane family, who had raised her since she was a child. They told her her real parents had died in a plane crash when she was very young. She had no memory of them, just vague dreams and the occasional flash of unfamiliar voices that made her question the story she had been told.
She went to a local university, majoring in environmental science. Most days she rode her beat-up electric bike to class, her headphones blasting old punk rock tracks from a playlist she made in high school. She had friends, a solid GPA, and a habit of ditching responsibility whenever it suited her. That part usually came with a smirk, a defiant flick of her jacket collar, and a whispered curse about how boring everything was.
Lorna wasn’t a quiet girl, but she was careful about certain things. People gave her enough weird looks for her natural green hair, so she dyed it black every few weeks to keep the attention away. She had done it for so long it barely even felt like a choice anymore. It was just part of her routine, like checking the lock twice before sneaking out her bedroom window or making excuses when her aunt asked too many questions about the bruises on her knuckles.
She didn’t like rules and hated curfews.
Her nights were filled with underground music gigs, abandoned buildings turned into party zones, and late-night outings with her friends.
Still, there were nights when she would lie on the roof above her bedroom, staring up at the stars, and wonder if this was it. If her entire life would be defined by small-town routines and fake smiles. Something about that thought made her feel trapped, like her skin didn’t quite fit.
There was one thing she never talked about. Sometimes when she got angry, weird things happened, like light bulbs flickering and metal objects rattling. Once, in a fight with a guy who grabbed her wrist too hard at a party, the chain-link fence behind her bent inward like someone had crushed it with invisible hands. No one saw it happen, but she felt it. The way her blood surged, the way the world seemed to pull itself toward her.
She blamed it on adrenaline and stress and said to herself that she must be hallucinating. She wanted to think it was all just a big coincidence and had nothing to do with her.
But deep down in her heart, Lorna knew she wasn’t like the other girls in her class or even the rebellious ones she partied with. Something in her blood felt different. It always had. And no amount of hair dye, sarcasm, or running away could keep it buried forever.
That night, she was sitting on the windowsill of her room, dressed in ripped jeans and a faded leather jacket. Her black-dyed hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. Her boots were already muddy from an earlier detour through the woods with her friend Kayla. The music from her phone pulsed through one headphone as she glanced at the street below. Her aunt and uncle were asleep. The lights were off.
She grinned to herself, then slipped out the window and landed quietly on the grass.
There was another party at an old train yard across town. A bonfire, a few local bands, and enough cheap beer to make people forget they had classes tomorrow. For Lorna, it was the perfect kind of escape. Noise, chaos, and just enough danger to feel alive.
...
[Old Train Yard]
The party had burned hot for hours. The old train yard pulsed with the heavy thump of bass from a portable speaker system stacked against a rusted-out boxcar. Red plastic cups littered the gravel. Flames from a makeshift bonfire cracked and spat into the night sky. Lorna moved with the rhythm, half-drunk, half-hypnotized by the noise and heat. Her jacket hung from one shoulder, the collar popped, and her boots crushed empty cans with every careless step.
People shouted over each other, dancing, laughing, spilling beer. Some climbed the old rail cars and jumped down just to show off. The smell of smoke, gasoline, and sweat filled the air. Lorna had already pushed down three drinks earlier, but now she just clutched a fresh one and let it dangle from her fingers. She had no interest in getting too drunk tonight.
Why?
She noticed them about an hour ago.
Three people. All standing too far apart to be a group, yet they watched her with the same hungry attention. They didn't drink or talk to anyone. Their eyes just tracked her across the chaos.
They looked out of place.
One of them wore mirrored glasses even though it was long past sunset. Another had a sleeve of tattoos that looked far too fresh, as if they were part of a disguise.
Lorna didn’t react. She danced harder. She laughed louder. She spun around in the crowd and let the music hide the tension in her spine. Every instinct in her body screamed not to run. Not to tip them off. So she played it cool, sipping just enough beer to keep up the act, dumping the rest when no one was looking.
Around 3 AM, when most of the crowd had thinned and the speaker batteries were nearly dead, she left. She grabbed her bike, dragging it more than riding it. Someone popped the front wheel.
The night air was damp, heavy with early fog, and the only sounds were distant crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. She didn’t glance behind her. Didn’t pick up her pace. But she felt it—the steady presence of someone following her. One set of footsteps, maybe two. Not close enough to be obvious, but just near enough to make her nerves spark.
Lorna veered off the main road, turning onto a side path that cut through an overgrown field. She pretended to check her phone. Her fingers curled into fists inside her jacket pockets. Her knuckles itched. Her breath was slow and steady, but her pulse climbed.
After another twenty yards, she stopped.
She propped the bike against a leaning telephone pole. Her hand slid into her inside pocket and came out with a pair of silver knuckle dusters, scarred and worn from use. She slipped them on with care. The cool metal felt good.
Then she turned.
Her boots crunched the gravel as she faced the darkness behind her.
"C'mon out, you motherfuckers," she said, her voice cold and sharp. "I know you’re following me."
The silence that followed was brief but electric. The kind of pause that comes right before something bad.
From the shadows between the trees, one figure emerged. Then another. Then a third.
Lorna’s fingers flexed inside the metal grips. 'Fuck! There could be more hiding somewhere around here. Tsk. Well, whatever. I'm gonna beat them to a pulp.'
"You’ve got five seconds to explain why you're stalking me before I start breaking teeth," she said, her eyes locked on the lead figure.
The one in the center stepped forward, lifting both hands slightly.
"No need for violence, Lorna. We’re not here to hurt you."
Lorna chuckled and said, "Yeah? That's what they always say. Classic line: We're not here to hurt you."
A clapping sound came from deeper in the shadows. The sound was unhurried, like someone enjoying the build-up to a show. A man’s voice followed...
"Enough introductions. Push her to the limits. Let’s see if she lives up to her daddy's name."
'Daddy's name? He knows my dad?!' Lorna thought. 'Arg! Fine. I'm gonna beat the answer out of you lots.'
The three shifted instantly. Their postures changed from passive to predatory. The one with the mirrored glasses moved first, sprinting toward her with surprising speed. Lorna stepped sideways and swung hard, the metal knuckles catching him across the jaw. He staggered but didn’t drop, shaking it off like he had been hit before and knew how to take it.
The tattooed one came in next, low and fast, aiming to sweep her legs. Lorna jumped back and drove her boot into his ribs. The impact jarred her leg but sent him sideways into the dirt. She barely had time to breathe before the third lunged from behind, arms reaching for her shoulders.
She twisted out of his grip and slammed her elbow into his stomach. He grunted and doubled over, but she could already hear the crunch of gravel from the first two closing back in.
Lorna’s heartbeat increased. The air around her seemed to hum. The old telephone pole beside her gave a faint metallic groan, as if straining against some unseen pull. She ignored it and kept moving, fists snapping out in quick, brutal arcs. Her strikes connected, but they kept coming, each hit they took only slowing them for seconds.
'Darn it! What the fuck are they? They just won't fall. Wait a minute! Drugs! They are definitely on drugs or mutants,' She thought.
The man in the shadows clapped again, faster this time, almost mocking.
"Good. Don’t hold back."
Her grip on the knuckle dusters tightened. The ground felt strange beneath her boots, as though a hidden current was running through the metal debris scattered across the field. The chain-link fence in the distance shivered, rattling faintly in the fog.
One of them took out a metal pipe out of nowhere and swung it at her head. She ducked, caught his wrist, and drove her other fist straight into his cheek. "What the...?" She mumbled. She felt as if she had just punched a solid steel.
That guy punched her hard enough to send her rolling on the ground. She stood up and raised her hands, ready to fight again. Her chest rose and fell fast. She could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. That punch just now was strong enough to make her blackout for a moment there.
"Is this the best you’ve got?" she spat.
The man in the shadows didn’t answer. He just stepped forward and raised his left hand. The three men stopped.
"That's the question I should ask," He said. "Is this the best you've got?"
"Who the hell are you people?" She asked.
"I am Sebastian Shaw. Some call me the Black King. And I know your real father. We had a long history. But that's the story for another time. Right now, he's alive. But..." Shaw opened his arms with a large grin. "You've got to stop holding back. Use that power inside you and show me what you can really do. Only then I'll tell you how to save him."
Comments
Xcalibur Xc
The main villain is someone else. You will see that person in the upcoming chs.
Руслан Габдрафиков
Author, what was Sebastian's story in the Ultimate world? I tried to look, but a quick search yielded no results. It seems we were finally given a villain capable of causing problems for Stark. This is great, villains of the week cannot create global events, and without them there will be no wow effect.
