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Twelve step program to omnipotence

Name? "Michael McCole." Sex? "Male." Age? "24." Method of awakening in target universe? "Reincarnated into a baby, while mainting full meta-knowledge." Early stages of new life? "Spent in an orphanage, focusing on mastering programming and engineering as best I could, without showing myself as the second coming of Tony Stark, since that would probably draw a lot of attention which I couldn't protect myself from." Current goals in new life? "To become powerful enough that I will never be collateral damage in this universe, just some background fodder killed off in order to give the heroes motivation to fight. To become powerful enough that nobody in the universe will ever be able to harm me." Cost acceptable for completion of current goals in new life? ".... Everything." Thank you for filling out the passenger form. Please proceed to the boarding hall, and thank you for flying Trans-Dimensional Airways, we hope you have an interesting flight. .................................................................. The novel belong to this original author

Red_Yadav · Movies
Not enough ratings
19 Chs

Chapter 18 Plans for the future (demise of my enemies)

I was sitting next to Burstein on a couch in my "lobby" as we stared in silence as across the room, Melvin Potter was eating his lunch.

Or trying to, anyway.

The process of actually bringing the sandwich that Betsy had packed for him to his mouth was made significantly more difficult by a petulant dinosaur trying to get said sandwich for herself.

Even though she had raided the fridge we kept in the workshop not even ten minutes ago.

A lot of people were giving Burstein the stink eye as they held him responsible for all of their lunches now being inside the blazing insides of a baby T-Rex, but while the scientist was morosely hanging his head and watching the noses of his sneakers, I could spot some of the men and women slip the little dino some snacks under their desks, careful not to show Burstein.

A fire breathing juvenile T-Rex was a headache and a half, and something that had no place in modern society.

She fitted in just fine in my workshop, if the little smiles she kept getting were anything to go by, as she strutted around, warbling at people as her curious eyes took in her surroundings.

Currently however, the little T-Rex had eyes solely for Melvin's sandwich.

The blacksmith of course just went on with happily munching on the lunch his girlfriend made him, completely ignoring the fire breathing dinosaur sitting at his feet.

Said dinosaur didn't take too kindly to that apparently, judging by the low growl coming from her.

With a sudden leap, she jumped at the sandwich in Melvin's hand, her jaws snapping shut mere inches away from her target, as the blacksmith calmly held her back with his other hand.

"No! Bad dino!"

Angry at being denied her prize, the T-Rex instead decided that the hand on her body was a much more accessible target, and with a yowl of victory she threw herself on Melvin's hand, her jaws chomping away with glee.

Melvin, being superdurable, took this as calmly as one would take a newborn kitten batting away at them, lifting his hand as he stared at the dinosaur with a raised eyebrow, as she kept clinging on with just her jaw, her legs dangling off the floor.

Giving a little shake, making the T-Rex swing side to side, Melvin's brow furrowed as he tried to lose the reptile that was clinging to him like a limpet, her teeth scraping across his unbreakable skin without leaving a mark.

"Bad dino! Let go!"

Not taking my eyes off this spectacle, I started talking with Burstein, who looked on with something between resignation and panic clear in his eyes.

"You do realize why making her was a bad idea, right?"

"I told you, Michael, I never actually expected this to work! I mean, honestly, creating a dinosaur?! That's impossible!"

I inclined my head pointedly at where Melvin had given up on gently shaking the T-Rex loose, and instead had just decided on giving a wide swing with his arm, making the dinosaur sail off further into the workshop with an indignant yowl.

She'd be fine, Extremis combined with her natural toughness, even at such a young age, would make sure of that.

"And yet…"

"I know. I know, okay!"

"I mean, I put up a sign and everything…"

"Look, turning my theories about manipulating the genetic structure of an organism into practical experimentation was a bad idea, I get that now and it won't happen again, I promise."

I was about to respond when I saw the little T-Rex come flying through the air in an impressive leap at Melvin's sandwich, jaws opened wide, but the blacksmith turned away with a surprising amount of grace, letting the dinosaur sail by with an indignant squawk.

Melvin of course just kept eating like nothing happened.

"It's not that you put your theories into practise that pissed me off Noah. I'll be honest, your research is pretty amazing and the fact that you could actually pull it off blows my mind. But making a dinosaur? It's not something we can afford to deal with right now Noah. Hell, it's something we can never really afford to deal with! T-Rex was estimated to weigh in at around 8 tonnes, do you have any idea what an animal like that can do when juiced up on Extremis, with brains to boot?"

Watching numbly as the little dino decided to tackle Melvin himself instead of his illusive sandwich, I could do nothing but look on as an extinct reptile the size of a medium dog barrelled into the unbreakable blacksmith, toppling him from the couch he'd been sitting on.

"Why couldn't you have experimented on something smaller? Like mice? Fluffy cute little mice. Everyone uses mice, you know."

Burstein's amused snort takes me off guard, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye in question.

"You'd prefer Extremis-enhanced rodents? Really?"

Turning to look at him fully (thereby blissfully avoiding having to look at the wave of heat and angered yelling that's now firmly out of my view) I give my answer in the sternest voice I can manage.

"I'd prefer all animals not on Extremis in the first place, thanks."

Seeing the scientist look down in guilt I let out a deep sigh.

"Look, like I said, the research itself is incredible. Not only mapping the genome as extensive as you did, but manipulating it as well… the medical applications are through the roof. If you could make this work on humans, then we could make designer babies a reality. An entire generation of humanity that will never have to suffer from genetic diseases. A generation that will always be at the peak of health, one that could live for centuries."

"You know people are going to protest us changing humanity in such a large way."

"A minority. A vocal one, true, but still. The majority of the people will want in on this, and the more important minority, the one at the top, the one with actual power, they'll pay and do anything for perfection."

"It's one step closer to the Omni-Cure."

For a moment, both me and Burstein are silent, as the true ramifications of what he has done start to sink in with us.

"I'm pulling you away from our indestructible armour production. You said it yourself, the procedure is as good as it can be with the facilities that we have here, and Melvin knows enough about it to lead that team on his own. It's only about six people and they all like him, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Then what will I be doing?"

"Take over from Sterns. My meeting with Hogarth went very well, and most of what we came up with in order to stay ahead of Stark I will put in the hands of Mason, he's probably the best of us at tech, even better than Sterns. He and his team can handle the workload, after all we just need enough for proof of concept and personal use, we'll sell the designs for mass production to the big companies anyway."

"You want me to take over from Samuel? Alone?" Burstein asked, his tone an odd mix of hopefulness and nervousness.

Before today, I had only ever allowed Burstein to assist on Sam's various projects, with the egghead always taking the lead. Noah had always been fine with this, recognizing that even brain boosted as he was, Sterns raw intellect still outclassed his by several levels. Both being geneticists, they generally got along pretty well whenever I put them to work on something, like the Rejuvenation Serum that had turned out instrumental in getting Hogarth on my side.

Other than the leather-production though, he had never headed any such projects on his own.

And considering his own independent foray let to Melvin rolling around on the floor of the warehouse, tangling with a live dinosaur as he desperately pushed her nose away from his sandwich, well…

I could understand why he was surprised that I was essentially promoting him.

"I trust you to come up with a solution whenever I present you with a problem. Sam himself told me that you could handle the stuff I currently have him working on for me on your own. He's much more interested in the Pym Particles. Or soon to be Cross Particles, I suppose. He wants to see if their unique properties allow for cold-fusion. Applying that level of tech to the Arc Reactors…"

"Since when is Samuel an expert on low-energy nuclear reactions?"

I couldn't help myself.

"Since last night."

Seeing his incredulous stare, I chuckle and elaborate, desperately trying to ignore the way that Melvin just grabbed the T-Rex by the tail, swinging her around his head a couple of times, before throwing her back into the workshop again.

"Ever since I told him that I wanted to get on board with Pym Technologies, he's been researching it on his down-time. So around two to three weeks or so. Most of the theoretical research has been done already, but nobody out there knows how to put it into practice. Sterns might."

Getting an understanding nod from my scientist we both turned back towards the couch on the other side of the room, Melvin sitting down with a contended sigh as we did, smoke coming from his shirt.

As we watched, a bedraggled, exhausted looking dinosaur trudged over towards him, climbing onto the couch with some difficulty due to her short hands, before she finally settled on the cushion next to Melvin, resting her head on her tail with a pout.

It was the first time I'd seen a dinosaur mope.

Then again, before today I had never seen a dinosaur at all, so for a while it would be a time for a lot of firsts, I suspected

"Are you… are you going to, you know? Terminate her?" Burstein asked hesitantly, afraid of my answer, but willing to abide by my decision all the same.

I meant what I said to him. We can't afford a distraction like a fire breathing dinosaur. Maybe not ever, but definitely not now. Not when Stark threw me for a loop by stepping into the corporate ring with me, willing to play ball and showing in his opening move that he was far better and more experienced with it that I was. Not when Hogarth was leaning on me to release tech that would end up pushing the way humanity lived forwards by at least a decade.

Not when the Hand was out to drastically and permanently increase the distance between my head and my neck.

Preferably by using a sword.

No, I definitely meant what I said. It was the smart thing to do. There would be people out there that would argue that it was the right thing to do as well. And after all the blood that was already on my hands, what more was one animal, especially one that could monumentally disrupt my plans?

And yet…

As I looked on, I couldn't help but smile as Melvin raised what was left of his sandwich to his mouth, before he looked over at the sad little dinosaur sitting next to him. And of course, being the gentle soul that he was, Melvin gave a sigh and held out his lunch towards the T-Rex.

The little murderlizard looked up in surprise, looking closely at the blacksmith with a calculating gaze, wary for any traps. Then, fast as lightning, the sandwich disappeared into her fiery gullet, the T-Rex having an immensely pleased expression on her face as she licked her chops.

As Melvin let out a hearty laugh when the dinosaur burped, spouting forth a torrent of flames, I turned towards Burstein with a half-smile.

"No. She's ours now. We'll just have to deal with it, I suppose."

Seeing his relieved expression, I give him a pat on the back (sending him nearly flying from our couch) as I stand up and start walking over to my desk, throwing a last barb over my shoulder as I see Melvin leaning back into the couch, patting the little dinosaur on her sleepy head.

"You're going to walk her though! And feed her! And clean up after her!"

"What?! NO! Michael! Michael, you can't do this to me! She'll eat me alive! Michael!"

"Have fun you two!"

"MICHAEL!"

//

"I'd say a penny for your thoughts, but listening to you is something that really should be considered a high-paying job. So let's just agree on five bucks, and leave it at that, yeah?"

"Hello Jessica. Done with cleaning out every liquor store in a five mile radius already? Impressive, I thought after last time they'd have upped their stock. You know, selling by the keg instead of per bottle, that sorta thing."

"Funny. But I know you can be wittier than that. You didn't even use a pun, sooooo, hmm, a 3 out of 10 this time."

"Ouch. The pain. It is unbearable. Surely, my soul has been rent asunder. Oh, woe is me."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Edgy McEdgelord, having millions really makes you sad, I get it, 100 dollar bills are a pain to wipe your tears with and all that jazz. Now, you're going to tell me why you've been brooding at your desk for an hour, or do I have to get Susan to burn your paperwork to ashes?"

Turning to look up at her with a raised eyebrow, I couldn't keep the confusion out of my voice.

"Susan? Who is Susan?"

Pointing over her shoulder, I see the little T-Rex stomp her feet as she's glaring up at one of the women that I had healed with Extremis. Angered at something, the dinosaur let out a gout of flame, looking immensely pleased with herself when she managed to scorch the woman's pants.

That is, until the woman opened her mouth and let out a burst of flame of her own twice the size of what Susan had managed, sending the T-Rex flying towards Burstein's desk with a panicked shriek.

"You named a firebreathing dinosaur that will grow up big enough to swallow humans whole… Susan?"

"Hey don't look at me, Burstein came up with it. She's named after some T-Rex skeleton or something, I didn't care so I wasn't paying attention. Now, stop trying to avoid the subject, what's got you brooding this time?"

"The Hand."

"Oh."

I was no Holdo, making complicated plans that I kept only to myself, thus ensuring confusion and distrust within my ranks, leading only to catastrophic failure and loss of life that could have easily been avoided.

No, right after things had calmed down and we were done cleaning up the mess that Susan (apparently) had caused, Sterns had come very close to trying to find out whether or not he could smack me around with those six robotic arms of his.

Only the promise that I would explain in detail to everyone what had gone down during my conversation with Alexandra kept him at bay.

So I did exactly that, telling them what happened, though I edited it somewhat to make it seem as if the Hand had revealed itself, rather than me already knowing of their existence, as well as making it look as if the whole Hydra thing was just something that I let slip out of panic and I was just as surprised as the rest of them to realize that the Hand clearly believed Hydra still existed, honest.

I know that neither Sterns nor Jessica fell for it, and Burstein might suspect something, but they decided to keep quiet about it.

Probably because after I told everyone my version of what had happened, I impressed on everyone in my workshop (in total about twenty people) just how dangerous those two organisations were, just how far their influence reached and to what levels of power as well. Whenever someone asked how I knew all that, I just deflected their questions, citing my hacking skills as my source.

For all that they were annoyed that I was lying to them about how I knew what I did, Jessica and Sterns at least appreciated that I tried to impress on everyone just in how much danger we possibly were, and they understood that it was in the best interest of everyone if we collectively kept our head on a swivel, instead of questioning my sources or the authenticity of my warnings.

Didn't mean that they had to like it though.

"So, what about the Hand? You found a way to deal with them yet?"

Leaning back into my office chair, placing my huge paws behind my bald head, I glanced at Jessica as she's leaning against my desk, arms crossed in front of her chest. Should I tell her what I'd been mulling over? So far in this new life I had always kept my plans close to the chest out of necessity.

If anyone knew that the silent kid at the back of the class was actually making plans on how to achieve omnipotence, I'd be in a mental asylum faster than you could say "dying to bullets even though you have superspeed is dumb".

Still, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep this many balls in the air simultaneously on my own. I couldn't bother Sterns since he was swamped with passing on his projects to Burstein, getting started on perfecting the Pym Particle theory (apparently changing that name was impossible, just like Newton's Third law would always remain Newton's Law) into the marketable Cross Particle technology (officially, there was no Pym Particle technology, because officially, there was no Ant-Man) and of course on maintaining his beloved Oliver.

Considering all that Sterns is capable of, I wouldn't be surprised if the truck could leave the atmosphere at this point.

Still, having a soundboard for the whirlwind of thoughts currently in my head to bounce off on might help somewhat in formulating a plan on how to deal with the current crisis.

"I know who's in their inner circle. I'm just trying to figure out how to get to them and kill them without getting seen. A murder charge would be really unfortunate to have when Stark finally drags my ass to court." I say, trying to inject some levity into my voice, but by the stern look on Jessica's face, I can tell that my bleak humour falls flat.

For all that's she's a hard-ass, Jessica has a surprisingly rigid moral compass.

Sure, she plays fast and loose with the law occasionally (as shown during our first meeting, where I caught her ripping apart an ATM) but she was very strict in her moral convictions.

She wasn't above smacking crooks around for a bit, but she refused to kill.

My impassioned speech on how dangerous our hidden enemies were (and how little effect the law would have on them) had made sure that she at least didn't protest me going out to try and kill them, but I could tell that she disapproved, and if I were to ask her to accompany me on a strike against either the Hand or Hydra, then she'd probably decline.

"You want to kill them so bad, why not wait for them at night in their house, like some common murderer?"

Choosing to ignore her frosty tone (having long since realized that for all that she tried to portray herself as a bad ass, she was still very naive compared to her older counterpart from the show), I instead closed my eyes in thought.

"Because these kind of people probably don't live in houses in the suburbs. They're the rich and powerful in New York, they're the kind of people that live in those fancy penthouses, smack-dab in the middle of Manhattan."

"So?"

"So, camera's. Lots of 'em too I'd guess."

"Well, it looks like executions are off the table then." Jessica said stiffly, but I could hear the unspoken relief in her voice.

Seems that working for a company in which the CEO actively set out to throw people off skyscrapers didn't sit too well with her, despite her tough guy act.

"I explained to you why these people need to die, Jessica. It's not something that I do for my enjoyment, it's just a fact that if I don't kill them first, they will try to kill all of you. And not everyone here regenerates limbs or has unbreakable skin. You work for me now, it's my job to keep you all safe-"

"I don't need fucking anybody to keep me safe! I can take care of myself!" Jessica bit out harshly, pushing off from my desk, feet planted firmly as she looked at me challengingly, a glint in her eye.

Oh boy, stress was getting to her again. Despite my earlier joke about her raiding liquor stores, the truth was that between this shit storm going on, her assignments for me and the mess that was Susan, she had severely cut back on her drinking habit, just out of sheer practicality.

She wasn't showing withdrawal symptoms exactly (could people like her and me even get addicted anymore now that we healed the way we did?) but she felt a lot more stressed all the same. Combined with my statement that I wanted to kill as many ninja's and Nazis as I could get my hands on, meant that she was itching for a fight.

"I meant my people in general. Sterns. Mason. Burstein. They're smart, but just as fragile as any baseline human. And the Extremis people heal fast, sure, but you can't heal if your head is cut off. And unbreakable skin is nice, but they still need to breathe. And you… you're strong Jessica, but you ain't bulletproof and you don't heal-"

"I heal!"

"Not fast enough!"

"So then make it fast enough!"

"I CAN'T!"

For a moment, there's a circle of silence around my desk, before people hurriedly bow themselves over their paperwork and assignments again, so obvious in trying to pretend that they hadn't been listening in they might as well have been shouting it from the rooftops.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

Rubbing my face in frustration at Jessica's hesitant tone, I couldn't help but let out an explosive sign.

"Sterns and I looked over your bloodwork. You're genes, they've been… altered. At first I thought you were doused with a certain chemical, I have heard of it working in other cases but… We've mapped your genome and isolated the parts in it that have been changed, but honestly, we have only the vaguest idea what it actually is, not to mention how it gives you your abilities. Sterns has been running a spectrum analysis on your blood for two days now and we still don't know what's inside you that gives you your strength or flight. We're getting there, if Burstein can turn a chicken into a dinosaur then we can also figure out just what the hell has been done to you, but we need more time. At this point we think you produce some kind of energy, but since on a fundamental level everything is energy, that really doesn't get us any closer to understanding what it actually is. Which means that we also don't know how it reacts to certain triggers."

Yeah, finding out that Jessica hadn't been doused in the same chemicals that Matt had been like in the comics was a punch to the gut.

'I really should have bothered watching season two of her show, instead of occasionally looking something up on the wiki, like who the new villains were...'

"Look I get that you and egghead are science buddies and whatever, but just tell me in English what's going on." Jessica demanded irritated and after a short pause, I tried to explain my thoughts to her in a clear way.

"If I were to inject you with Extremis… you might blow up."

"…what."

"Extremis is the most likely scenario in where you blow up, but honestly with what we have discovered about how your genetic code has been altered, you could blow up with any enhancement we give you. We performed a whole battery of tests on synthesized blood made from your sample, and sometimes it turned highly flammable, other times it was flame retardant and one time it actually turned radioactive. As you can guess, combining a serum which rewrites your genome again in order to kick your body into overdrive and literally burn you up... well we know very little about how your energy field works, but we're pretty sure getting splattered across the workshop would be bad for your health."

For a moment, she's completely silent, slowly turning towards my desk as she leans heavily on the wooden surface.

"You okay there Jessica?"

"I'm fine! Just… just shut up and give me a moment… please."

I patiently waited until she let out a deep breath, before she turned around and leaned against my desk again. For a moment, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, before I decided to just say 'fuck it'. It wasn't as if I had the concentration to finish my projects anyway, not with the Hand looming over my head.

Reaching over to my left, I opened my bottom drawer, taking a bottle of Limoncello out of it, which I placed on my desk next to the little stack of paper cups. Under Jessica's amused stare, I poured both of us a generous cup, before screwing the lid back onto the bottle, taking my own cup in hand.

Slowly, Jessica took her cup as well, staring at the lemon-yellow liquid with a half-smile before she glanced at me with a teasing look.

"Really? This soft crap?"

"What? I like sweet, and not all of us can secretly be a trucker deep down in our soul and chug down Jack Daniels like it's nothing. Some of us actually have something called taste, maybe you've heard of it?"

Taking a sip from her drink, Jessica gave a theatrical shudder, fixing me with a mock-glare.

"Well, after this I'm not sure I ever want to taste anything ever again."

"Just shut up and drink Jones."

She laughed, but she didn't protest me filling up her cup again once she was finished (before me of course, I was still sipping and enjoying the taste of the sweet alcohol).

"So."

"What?"

"So, apart from finding out someone messed with your genetics, why did hearing that I couldn't enhance you get to you so bad? You already have powers, and the first time I brought up getting more when I asked for that sample of your blood, you didn't talk to me for a day. I just figured that you didn't want more powers."

For a moment, Jessica avoided my gaze, hiding behind her cup before she realized it was empty already. Giving a tired sigh, she held out the cup again, and dutifully I poured her another, as she seemed to mull over her words.

At the rate we both could put away alcohol, we might just end up raiding the local liquor stores after all.

"I don't. Want more powers, I mean. The ones I have… the cost for getting them, it was… and really, what have they done for me except just keep on dragging me into more and more shitty situations?" Jessica laughs bitterly, and some primal part of me, passed on in men from generation to generation from the moment we invented fire, kicks my survival instincts into gear and I realize that she doesn't expect an answer.

So, I just keep my mouth shut and let her rant, dutifully filling up her cup whenever she pushes it my way (she's on number three. I'm almost finished with number one).

"So no. I don't want more powers. I don't. Except that… except that I do. That night, when you beat me at arm-wrestling? That was the first time since the… since the accident, that I actually lost to someone. I forgot how that felt. Scared the shit out of me. But… it was also exciting. I could feel how strong you were and I… I wanted that too. And now you keep trying to scare us, telling us there's ancient ninja's after us, that Hydra is still alive, that everyone in the alphabet, from CIA to NSA and all of 'em in between, are after our tech and enhancements. For fuck's sakes Michael, you won't let any of the smart guys go out without a guard of at least two unbreakable guys."

Shrugging at the look she sends me, I knock back the last of my own drink and start refilling it immediately (I like the taste and I can't get drunk so technically I can drink this stuff like lemonade, but I can't shake that uncomfortable feeling of being improper whenever I show up at eight in the morning with liquor in my hands so I save it like any baseline would).

"I just figured that being bulletproof is more useful for protecting someone else instead of just being able to heal yourself pretty quickly. Someone tries to take Sterns out with a sniper round, he could just shoot through an Extremis guard. A Burstein-guy could just stand in front of Sterns instead and they'd both be fine." I say nonchalantly, getting an exasperated shake from Jessica.

"You have a really weird form of paranoia, you know that right?"

"It ain't paranoia when they're really out to get you."

"True, but you have pretty strange ideas on who is out to get you, and how they want to go about doing it too. Sniping through someone? There's nobody alive that would take a shot like that." Jessica scoffs.

I can't help but see characters flash in front of my eyes at her confident statement. Hawkeye. Bullseye. Black Widow. I'm pretty sure that once he gets his powers, Peter Parker could make such a shot. Then there's all the supersoldiers running around of course.

Except, here they aren't just characters.

Here, they are actually out there, somewhere. And they could strike at any moment, and none of them will be so courteous as to give a nice little heads-up that they're going to blow my best friend's head straight off his shoulders.

Shaking the morose thoughts from my mind, I glance up at Jessica with a smirk.

"You said it yourself: my whole life is strange."

"Touché." Jessica said with a roll of her eyes, a small smile on her lips.

Seeing that her mood had settled somewhat, I hazarded a question.

"So, you never really decided on whether or not you wanted more powers?"

Biting her lip, Jessica let her eyes roam across the workshop a few times before they finally settled on me.

"Look. On the one hand, I've been through enough shit because of the powers that I already have. On the other hand, I like the idea of having your level of strength, and considering the type of assholes that are after us, getting more powers might turn out handy. And in the middle of that dilemma, you just come out and tell me that getting more powerful might fucking blow me up if we tried to do it now!"

"Right, I can imagine how that would be something you'd rather not hear."

"No shit, Stark."

You know, even after more than twenty years of living in an entirely different universe, it's the little things, like subtly different expressions, that always drive home to me just far from home I actually am.

Rubbing a hand over my bald head, I knock back the last of my Limoncello, filling both our cups again as I mull over my next words.

"I can't give you Extremis, Jessica. The way it rewrites the DNA of its host is too unpredictable, too extensive, too volatile to combine with the changes that's already been made to your genome. We know where the changes are made, we know roughly how it affects your body, but until we are absolutely a 100% about how your powers function, I'm not taking the risk. You're not an ostrich embryo, you're a grown woman and an employee in my company, so pulling another Susan is going to be a hell of a lot more difficult, but we're getting closer each and every day. I've put Burstein on cracking what it actually is, considering what he has shown to be capable of it should be a piece of cake. And the very moment we know how your genetics work up to the finest details then we might try and enhance you with the tamer ones. The supersoldier serum, or the Brain Booster."

"Why can't you do those now?"

"We could give you the Brain Booster, next to the Burstein-treatment it's the only one that doesn't drastically change your DNA. We're not going to give it to you right now though, since we have no idea how the energy is regulated inside your body. You still have powers after all this time since whatever experiment was performed on you, which means you're producing the field yourself, though we'd have to put you in a CAT-scan in order to see just how you're producing that energy, and we don't have that here. Sterns could probably whip up a portable one in a day or so, but with this whole Hand-mess going on he hasn't had the time. In any case, messing around with your brain might also mess up the production rate of the energy, or change its make-up. Either result isn't pretty."

"And the supersoldier serum?"

"Brings you to the absolute theoretical peak that you can be. If it considers the changes inside you as a disease or something that's malformed, it might just try to 'fix' you. Again, the result wouldn't be pretty."

Jessica mulls my answer over for a few moments, before she fixes me with an intense stare.

"And the Burstein-treatment? You said it yourself, it doesn't mess with my DNA too much."

"Dunking a woman filled with an unknown energy field in an acid bath and then heating both to immense temperatures? Yeah, that's not going to happen. Hogarth made me rich, but I ain't got the cash to replace all the docks of New York." I said sarcastically, glad that it at least drew a chuckle from the dour woman.

"Right. Guess that makes my choice for me, huh?" she tries to say calmly, but I can hear the bitterness in her voice, but whether that is because she can't get more powers, or can't decide to turn down more power I cannot tell.

"We'll figure it out soon, Jessica. You have the smartest people in the world on your team now. It'll be fine." I try to reassure her, my hand reaching out to grab the bottle, only to find that we finished it all during our talk.

And it was such nice Limoncello too.

"What a fucking pity party." Jessica muses, pulling herself up on her arms, planting herself down on my desk, legs dangling over the edge as I look at her from the corner of my eye.

"I can't get more powers which would leave me better prepared against a bunch of assholes that might try to kill me, while you can't figure out a way to kill those same assholes first."

Chuckling a bit at her bleak prognosis, I start tapping my foot as I look up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

"I have vague ideas about our offence. I know what they're after, what they're desperate for. If I can rip Midland Circle apart brick by brick, I think I might just get all of them anyways. Even ninja's get aneurysms, right?" I say with a grin directed at Jessica, who rolls her eyes in response.

"Midland Circle huh? Guess you 'hacked' that too, did you?" she says, only barely refraining from making the actual rabbit-ears finger motions, though she tries to substitute them with an impressive scowl and eye roll.

"I did, yes." I answer, my face completely flat, and Jessica gets the hint as she quickly drops the subject of my unexplained amounts of knowledge.

"I'm iffy on if I should do it though. Not only could I get spotted, going on the offensive would leave us open to a counter-attack, and at the moment we're far more vulnerable than the Hand is, even without their precious Midland Circle."

"So you want to up our defences first?"

Giving a nod in response, I can finally feel the next Steps forming in my mind. I'll turn this workshop into my bastion, and make sure that my people are kept safe. But that didn't have to mean that I should allow both the Hand and Hydra any prepping time.

There were plenty of other people that would be all too happy to hunt those guys down for me.

Step 14: Enhance everyone not already upgraded with Brain Booster, then drill them mercilessly in CQC and weapons handling. I have a couple of vets here, as well as ex-security, they can train their new colleagues in how to defend themselves. The Brain Booster should allow everyone to reach a sufficient level of capability before the chips are down.

Step 15: Fortify the workshop even further by getting Radcliffe here, Brain Boost him and put him on making me an AI that can defend the building even further from cyber warfare. Put some weapons on the outside of the building so it has a little teeth as well, so to speak. Hell, after this is all over, I could have a LMD made for the AI and have her be the CEO. Only after me, Sterns, Mason and Burstein have gone over her code twice in order to avoid a Skynet-scenario.

Step 16: Use the Revitalization Serum on Peggy Carter and have her start a crusade against Hydra. Whether she succeeds or not is irrelevant, as long as she makes life hell for the Nazi's to the point they can't launch a proper counterattack against the Hand. Or me, for that matter. If she puts in a good word for me with Steve, then that's just the cherry on top.

I can take care of Step 14 right now, it's a little over half past five in the afternoon, so everyone's still here. As for Step 15, in the process of trying to complete Step 11c: recruit Radcliffe, I had Jessica track the scientist down, and she said she had found him. All I needed to do was have her get him here. Time was of the essence, so she could be as forceful as she thought necessary to get his ass over here.

The guy would be so enticed by the idea of the Brain Booster and unlimited research that his loyalty was all but assured.

Just had to keep him away from the Darkhold.

The only problem with Step 15 was sending out Jessica. I didn't know what the usual response time was from the Hand against such a threat like I had made them believe there was, but I wouldn't put it past them to already have people in place in order to start picking off my employees one by one.

And like I had just explained to her, I didn't dare upgrade her until I knew more about the genetic treatment that had enhanced her.

I needed to get into contact with Karl Malus. The man was a genius who achieved with science the same thing that the Hand had been obsessed with for the past thousand years or so.

Unfortunately, he was also married to Jessica's psycho mom.

I glanced at Jessica from the corner of my eye, debating on what (if anything) I should tell her about her mother and what little I could piece together about the origin of her power based on half-remembered wiki pages.

No, better leave that crisis for another day, fix the current one first. Still, a greater understanding on just what made Jessica's powers work would not only afford her a far greater deal of motion if it turned out I could give her more enhancements, it would also allow me to perform a similar procedure on myself.

Self-powered flight...

Track down Malus first, between my think tank and Jessica's investigative abilities it should be possible. Reel him in with the promise of the Brain Booster, telling him that it holds the answer to curing Jessica's mom.

If he cures her, then Jessica gets her happy ending. If he can't, if Alisa turns out to be permanently damaged, then I'll kill her before Jessica can figure out the connection between them.

It would probably mean killing Malus too, unfortunately.

If it comes to the second option, then there's not a doubt in my mind that she'll hate me from the depths of her soul if she ever finds out that I killed her mother, but it can't be helped.

I'm absolutely convinced that if it turns out she can't be cured, Malus will beg me to lock her up instead, which will inevitably lead to her escape, or twisting Jessica to her own ends somehow, leading to even more death and misery.

Narrative demands it.

Well, in my professional and cultured opinion, narrative can go on right ahead and fuck itself

Frank was right, that night he met Matt up on the roof.

The whole hero/vigilante act was just a half-measure at best. If you wanted to get shit done, if you wanted results than you just had to sacrifice your morals and get your hands dirty.

What was my own piece of mind, my own satisfaction with my pristine moral compass, when it is paid for with the lives of innocents?

Chew on that Batman.

Think twice before you let the Joker live because you think 'it's the right thing to do' next time.

A firm shove against my head sends my office chair sliding meters backwards, snapping me from my musings. Rubbing the spot on my cheek in confusion, my eyes fall on Jessica whose rubbing her raw knuckles with a grimace, though her eyes shine with a sense of victory.

"The hell Jessica?!"

"You were brooding again!"

"... you've been talking to Sterns again, haven't you?"

//

Standing outside of a diminutive retirement home in downtown New York, I can't help but feel a little nervous, mostly due to feeling dozens of gazes on my back, sending pinpricks and needles up and down my neck.

Ridiculous, I know, after all I had anticipated that the home would be watched, and I knew that none of my watchers were capable of even scratching me, but still.

There's something primal about knowing that you're being watched, without seeing who (or what) it is that is watching you.

Why do you think the original Predator movie was such a hit?

Squaring my massive shoulders underneath the nice suit I'm wearing I put my observers out of my mind (the very few beings on this planet capable of really hurting me don't have the need to remain stealthy anyways, so I know I'm perfectly safe) as I walk up the few steps to the door, pressing my sausage like finger to the doorbell.

In a matter of moments, a nurse opened the door for me, her inviting smile quickly running away the further she needed to crane her head in order to look me in the eyes as I loomed in the doorway.

Sure the media loved me, as did a large portion of New York, but most people would feel uncomfortable when there's suddenly a hulking behemoth with eyes like the devil standing on your porch.

"Ah, Mr. McCole, right? How may I help you?" the nurse asks timidly, and I can't tell whether or not it's genuine or just a very good act from an undercover spy.

A few conversations would be sufficient for my advanced brain to start profiling her against a proper baseline, based on her micro expressions, breathing and heart rate as well as perspiration.

For now though, I'd just assume she was a spy, though for who was anyone's guess currently. There's no way in hell that I'll believe that the person I'm visiting isn't under constant watch, even if it's only a skeleton crew.

Already placing an enormous designer clad foot on her doorstep, I lean even further forwards, my bald head nearly brushing the top of her doorframe as I force her further inwards by the sheer force I'm naturally excluding, a friendly expression and bright smile on my face doing nothing to stop the woman from keeping a healthy distance from me.

"I'm here to see Peggy Carter, may I come in please?"

//

Fun Fact: Michael Jackson looked into buying Marvel Comics in the late '90s because he wanted to play Spider-Man in a movie.