Chapter 19

Max stood resolute before his clone, an air of anticipation surrounding them. Today was the day he would test the limits of his abilities, to see if he could replicate Carol's powers without altering any other aspect of his physiology.

With a deep inhalation, Max closed his eyes, focusing intently. The task at hand was monumental; he was about to manipulate the DNA within each cell of his clone's body. Considering the human body comprises trillions of cells, each containing a DNA molecule—a complex structure of proteins arranged in a lengthy sequence—this was no minor feat.

The process was arduous and time-consuming, but Max persevered, aided significantly by the energy harnessed from the Tesseract. He had constructed a compact, portable device capable of drawing power from the Tesseract, inspired by the machinery Hydra utilized when they possessed the cube. The blueprints were in the S.H.I.E.L.D. database, and with Max's enhanced cognitive abilities, the task of building a smaller version was straightforward.

Upon opening his eyes, a smile unfurled across Max's face as he observed his clone beginning to radiate a glow reminiscent of Carol's. It was a success.

Max and his clone then ventured to an isolated area to commence the power trials. The clone unleashed photon blasts with a potency matching Carol's, its physical strength noticeably augmented.

Max tested the clone's resilience, launching a thunder shock from his palm. The clone staggered slightly from the impact but remained otherwise unscathed—a testament to the success of the DNA manipulation.

Ensuring there were no unintended side effects from the genetic alteration—aside from the acquisition of new abilities—was Max's next objective. Once satisfied, he dissipated his clone and prepared to undergo the same transformation.

His mind raced, working tirelessly to replicate the changes in his own body's countless cells. When the transformation was complete, Max's eyes opened, emitting a brilliant white light. A luminous aura enveloped him, his hair fluttering as if caught in an ethereal breeze.

Max levitated, a sense of newfound strength coursing through him. Carol's powers had made her formidable, but combined with Max's pre-existing muscle enhancements, he was now a force to be reckoned with.

He admired his transformation, feeling a surge of elation. However, during his experimentation with his new abilities, Max discovered a limitation—he was unable to simultaneously wield both his and Carol's powers. When channeling Carol's abilities, his electrokinetic powers lay dormant, and vice versa.

"I need to find a way for these powers to coexist," Max mused aloud. "There's still time to work on it. After all, I'm not being pursued, nor do I have any enemies to kill."

With this realization of his amplified strength, Max dedicated the remainder of the day to mastering control over his enhanced capabilities.

As night fell, Max concluded his training. He soared towards his hotel, noticing a marked increase in speed when utilizing Carol's light-based powers—after all, light travels faster than electrons.

Gathering his phone and the Tesseract, Max took flight once more, this time heading towards U-GIN. Upon landing near the company's entrance, he observed the unchanged company board.

Max strode into the office and entered Helen's lab, where she was deeply engrossed in her work. "When are you going to change the board?" he inquired.

"I don't want to waste money on changing the board. When I move to a better facility, I will put your company name 'Max Tech.' on it," Helen responded without looking up.

"Fine. I came here to say goodbye. I'm returning to New York. You should take care of the hotel checkout and all that," Max said.

Helen continued her work, replying simply, "Fine."

Despite feeling a twinge of rejection from her indifference, Max couldn't help but admire Helen's unwavering dedication. Without another word, he silently exited the lab and took to the skies, bound for New York.

In the bustling heart of New York, Natasha Romanoff was engaged in a tense phone call. The voice on the other end, ragged with exertion, gasped out, "He's taken off again. Why can't he just travel like everyone else?"

"Thanks for the update," Romanoff replied, her eyes fixed on the radar screen that tracked Max's rapid approach to New York. "I've got it from here."

Natasha requested that a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative in South Korea surveil Max. She refrained from undertaking the task personally, as her presence in a foreign nation would likely compromise her covert status since she would stand out as an outsider.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on the line, tasked with shadowing Max, could barely contain his relief. He had been running himself ragged trying to keep up with Max's unpredictable movements, a task made all the more challenging by Max's preference for flight over conventional travel.

Romanoff ended the call and resumed her surveillance from a safe distance, utilizing a high-powered telescope to keep tabs on Max's location.

"He's moving faster than before," she mused, squinting through the lens. "Has he grown stronger, or is there urgency in his flight?"

It took mere minutes for Max to reach New York. He slipped into his house through a window, immediately alert to the presence of two others inside.

Treading softly, Max approached the kitchen, where the silence grew heavy; the intruders had detected his approach.

A familiar voice called out, "Max, is that you?"

"It's Lisa. What are you doing here?" Max responded, his defenses dropping as he stepped into the kitchen.

The sight that greeted him was grim: Lisa and Ana, drenched in blood. Ana was slumped against the wall, her hand pressed to a bleeding wound on her thigh.

"What happened?" Max demanded, his gaze shifting between the two.

Lisa's voice was strained as she explained, "We took your advice and moved out, but we bit off more than we could chew on a contract. We barely escaped, and that's when Ana was shot. Our target is out for revenge and found our new hideout. I remembered your location and brought her here."

Ana's voice cut through the tension, "Enough chit-chat. Help me with this bleeding."

"Do you know how to remove the bullet and treat the wound?" Max asked, turning back to Lisa.

"Yes, but I need supplies from the pharmacy," Lisa replied.

"Stay and apply pressure. I'll be back with what you need in no time," Max assured her.

Ana urged him, "Hurry!"

Before they could protest the impossibility of his timeline, Max levitated and soared out the window, leaving them in disbelief.

"Is he flying, or am I seeing things?" Ana questioned, her voice weak.

"He flew out," Lisa confirmed, still staring at the empty window frame.

Max returned from the pharmacy in a record two minutes, landing smoothly in the kitchen with the necessary medical supplies.

"Are you a mutant?" Lisa inquired, her curiosity piqued. "That would explain the S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance and your fearlessness around us."

"No, I'm not a mutant. I have powers, though," Max clarified.

"How is that possib..." Lisa began, only to be interrupted by Ana's pained outcry, "I'm still bleeding here!"

The conversation halted as Lisa set to work on Ana's wound. Max approached, placing his hand on Ana's thigh, ready to assist.

"Max, this isn't the time for... other activities," Lisa said with a wry smile. "I'll help you if you want."

"I'll remember that offer," Max replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

He then focused, attempting to block the pain signals without affecting other nerve functions—a delicate balance he was still mastering.

Ana's leg gave way beneath her, the sudden numbness causing her to stagger. Max's reflexes were quick, his arms steadying her before she could fall. "What did you do? I can't feel my leg," Ana's voice was tinged with panic.

"Relax," Max reassured her, his voice steady. "It's one of my abilities. It's temporary, just to ease your pain."

Gratitude replaced Ana's initial alarm as the agony from her wound subsided. She gazed up at Max, their faces mere inches apart. "Thank you," she whispered.

Max offered her a comforting smile, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other. Lisa, observing the tender scene, interjected, "As romantic as this is, we have more pressing matters."

With a reluctant turn away from Max, Ana braced herself as Lisa began the delicate task of extracting the bullet. The operation was meticulous, Lisa's hands steady as she stitched the wound closed.

"Fifteen minutes and you're patched up," Lisa announced, snapping her medical kit shut.

Max ceased his nerve block, and sensation flooded back into Ana's leg, along with the pain. "Why did you stop? Make it go away," Ana pleaded.

"I'd need to be near you constantly to maintain the numbness," Max explained.

"That shouldn't be an issue since you're unemployed," Ana retorted.

"I'm not jobless; I have plenty of work," Max countered, though he knew arguing was futile.

"Then you can work after I've recovered," Ana insisted.

Max sighed, accepting the inevitable. Lisa chimed in, "If she's staying, so am I."

Max muttered to himself, "Since when did I become such a pushover? I need to change if I'm to command others."

Meanwhile, in Kunar, Afghanistan, a camp bustled with activity as workers assembled weapons, each bearing the 'Stark' insignia.

A truck rolled into the camp, and armed men approached it. The camp commander emerged from his tent, his phone ringing.

"It's Obadiah," the voice on the line said. "I need someone eliminated."

The commander replied coolly, "The usual fee applies. Who's the target?"

"No need to dispatch your men. He'll come here," Obadiah stated.

"Tony Stark? The price just went up," the commander declared.

"How did you know?" Obadiah asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

"That's not your concern," the commander cut him off. "Half a billion for Stark's life."

"Done," Obadiah agreed, and the call ended.

The commander dialed another number, and a woman's irritated voice answered, "What now?"

"We received the consignment, and Obadiah...." the commander began.

"Handle it," the woman snapped. "Send the payment even if he is asking for more. Do I have to teach you how to do your work?"

"It's Tony Stark. Obadiah's offering half a billion for his life." the commander revealed.

Interest piqued, the woman's tone shifted. "Now that's intriguing. I'll send reinforcements. Two people will arrive in a week and will help you kill him."

She hung up, a sly grin spreading across her face as she turned to her associate. "Let's see what they're made of."

In another location, tucked away in a verdant expanse, shrouded by the dense embrace of the forest, stood a cluster of houses, their metallic sheen a stark contrast to the natural greenery. Within one such abode, an old man reclined on a couch, a chessboard laid out before him, a photograph clasped in his weathered hands.

The photograph was a window to the past, capturing four individuals: a slightly younger version of himself, a woman in the prime of her forties, and two teenagers—a boy and a girl—poised on the cusp of adulthood. The old man's eyes lingered on each face, a flood of memories washing over him, until the recollection of their parting ignited a flare of anger in his gaze.

His solitude was interrupted by the arrival of a tall, black man with flowing locks, who positioned himself behind the old man. "We have intel that she's on the move," he announced.

The old man's response was dismissive. "Unless she poses a threat to mutants, her actions are of no concern to me."

Undeterred, the black man continued, "There's also word of two mutants bearing a striking resemblance to your children."

At this, the old man's interest was piqued, his long-held desire to find his elusive offspring reignited. They had been avoiding him, but now there was a glimmer of hope.

Rising from his seat with newfound urgency, the old man commanded, "Assemble all the trained operatives. We cannot lose this opportunity."

[I'm aware that the recent chapters haven't been as engaging. However, the upcoming developments in the story should hopefully be interesting for you . Therefore, I encourage you to continue reading for a bit longer before making a decision to stop. ]