In Marvel with the Force?

The quiet hum of machinery filled the workshop as Tyr sat at his desk, staring at the half-finished schematic in front of him. A pencil rested loosely in his hand, but he hadn't made a single mark in over an hour. 

His mind wasn't here. It was back in the clearing. 

Jake's laugh. Melany's sarcastic quips. Their screams. 

He closed his eyes, forcing the images away, but they refused to leave. No amount of focus or planning could drown out the memory of what he'd seen. 

"Boy, you're gonna snap that pencil in half if you grip it any harder," came a gruff voice behind him. 

Tyr turned to see Finn standing in the doorway, a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a newspaper tucked under the other. The older man's sharp eyes softened as he took in Tyr's slumped posture. 

"Long day, huh?" Finn said, setting the tea on the desk and pulling up a chair. 

Tyr exhaled, leaning back in his seat. "You could say that." 

---

Finn settled into the chair, placing the newspaper on the table. The front page bore a headline about heightened military activity in the city, with a subheading hinting at "mutant threats." He didn't say anything about it, but the pointed look he gave Tyr said enough. 

"What happened?" Finn asked, his voice low and calm. 

Tyr stared at the tea, the warm steam curling in the cool air. For a moment, he didn't answer. Then, with a heavy sigh, he began to speak. 

He told Finn everything. 

The trip to the mountains, the mutants begging for help, the soldiers slaughtering them. He told him about Jake and Melany awakening their powers, how they didn't even get the chance to defend themselves before they were gunned down. 

Finn listened in silence, his hands folded in front of him. 

Tyr's voice faltered when he got to Oliver. "He... started to awaken too," Tyr said, his throat tightening. "I had to knock him out before the soldiers noticed." 

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. 

---

Finn leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. "Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his gray hair. "That's... That's a lot, kid." 

Tyr's jaw tightened. "They didn't even hesitate, Grandpa. Jake and Melany weren't attacking anyone. They didn't even know what was happening to them, and those bastards just... killed them." 

Finn's eyes darkened, his usual warmth replaced by a rare, steely anger. "Yeah, I've seen that kind of hate before. Doesn't matter who you are or what you've done—people like that only see a threat." 

Tyr looked away, his fists clenching. "And some of the others—our classmates—they cheered for the soldiers. Like it was a damn game." 

Finn's expression softened slightly. "Ignorance is a powerful thing, Tyr. Doesn't make it right, but that's the world we live in." 

"It's bullshit," Tyr snapped, his voice rising. "Jake and Emily were good people. They didn't deserve this." 

Finn nodded slowly. "No, they didn't." 

---

The workshop fell silent for a moment, the only sound the faint hum of the machines. Finn watched Tyr carefully, waiting until the boy's breathing steadied before speaking again. 

"So," Finn said, his voice calm but firm, "what are you gonna do about it?" 

Tyr looked up, meeting the older man's gaze. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean," Finn said, leaning forward, "you've been out there as the Black Wolf for months now, taking down criminals and making the city a better place. But this... this is different, isn't it?" 

Tyr didn't answer right away. He knew Finn was right. This wasn't about dismantling a crime ring or breaking up a smuggling operation. This was about people—innocent people—being hunted and killed because of what they were. 

"I don't know," Tyr admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "How do I even fight something like this? Soldiers with guns, the government backing them... I'm just one person." 

Finn gave a small, dry laugh. "One person who's taken down entire criminal empires by himself." 

"This is bigger," Tyr said, shaking his head. "It's not just a few bad guys in a warehouse. It's... everything. The system. The way people think." 

"Maybe," Finn said. "But you've got something most of those bastards don't." 

"What's that?" 

"A damn conscience," Finn said, jabbing a finger at Tyr's chest. "And the guts to do something about it." 

---

Tyr sat back, his mind racing. He thought about Oliver, lying unconscious in his bed. The fear in his eyes before Tyr knocked him out. The energy rippling around him, barely contained. 

And he thought about Jake and Melany. 

The anger inside him flared, hot and unrelenting. He didn't just want to fight back—he needed to. 

But Finn's words echoed in his mind: What are you gonna do about it?

Tyr didn't have an answer yet. But one thing was certain—he couldn't let this go. 

"Thanks, Grandpa," Tyr said quietly, looking up at Finn. 

The older man gave him a small smile. "Anytime, kid. Just remember, you're not alone in this." 

Tyr nodded, his resolve hardening. The world had changed, and he had to change with it.