Peter placed the syringe back in the compartment and immediately convulsed, falling to one knee. He winced as heat began slowly flowing through his muscles, making them contract tightly before relaxing them slowly.
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
His heart began to beat faster as his body produced adrenaline in copious amounts, triggering his fight or flight response. Sweat poured down his face as he grit his teeth, enduring the discomfort that poured over him.
Eventually, after ten long seconds, the heat and pain began to recede, which made him a little confused.
'Damn, it's better than I thought,' he thought in his head, watching the drop of blood seemingly vanish into thin air. Its half-life was accelerated so greatly that it degenerated into microparticles within seconds.
'Is this how we would all end up? Degenerating into nothingness? With nothing to remember us by?' he thought, looking at the empty spot on the ground before glancing at the blood-red serum next to him. 'Not if I have something to say about it.'
He removed his spectacles before undressing and folding his clothes, placing them both to the side. He then rubbed his forearm and brought the syringe up to his eyes, making sure nothing was spilling out.
He took one last deep breath before slipping the needle into his forearm and pushing the liquid into his bloodstream, the serum blending in with the red of his blood.
The Genome Serum.
The Genelock Serum.
The [ Base Of Evolution ].
The [ Biologically Interfaced Hormonal Trigger ].
These were the steps that he'd carved to achieve the perfected Lizard Serum.
Steps that he would climb up to his Ascendance.
***
SLAM!
A one-ton barbell smashed into the pristine floor, faintly cracking it.
CLAP CLAP CLAP!
"Stop that," a familiar giant of a man growled as he wiped his forehead with a cloth. He stood in a large gym with black and grey walls and wore shorts, showing off his gigantic physique. Arms the size of barrels, a chest the size of a small child and a back that rippled with muscles. He stood at a commendable 6'7", the sheer strength oozing out of him thickening the atmosphere.
"If you say so," the man behind him shrugged, speaking with a thick Russian accent. He stood at six feet, which was impressive enough, but he still looked like a child before Kingpin. Yet, one would be a fool to glaze over him.
His well-developed figure seemed to want to burst out of his shirt as his bulky arms lay crossed over his equally impressive chest. His posture was upright—ramrod straight, akin to an arrow—while his rugged but well-maintained beard that engulfed his chin pointed upward. A white, terrifying scar ran from his eye to his cheekbone, giving him something of a beastly presence—as if he were an apex predator looking down on everyone and everything.
"Honestly, I don't understand why you bother," he said, his Russian accent bleeding through once more, before walking over to the barbell and shockingly, picking it up with one hand.
"I was amusing watching you struggle with this," he chuckled, spinning around the incredibly heavy weight as though it was a plastic bag while Kingpin watched him with a blank face. He threw the weight up and down, making the bar creak and groan before grabbing the bar with both his hands.
"I find you to be...weak," he grinned before his triceps popped.
RIIP!!!
The two sides of the barbell fell to either side of him as he tore through the bar as though it were paper.
"You're paying for that, Sergie," Kingpin looked away, unfazed as he headed to the shower. "It will be deducted from the contract payment."
"I don't do it for the money, anyway," Sergie snorted and watched Kingpin slowly walk away. But at that moment, his ears twitched ever so slightly, making his head snap to the entrance.
"So, you don't mind if we don't pay you?" a slightly high voice echoed in the gym as a short man walked in, four medium-sized stumps fixed onto his back.
"It's a nice bonus," Segrie growled, his eyes narrowing.
"Why are you here?" Kingpin boomed from near the exit, turning around and glaring at the short man. His eyes were dark brown, gleaming with a tinge of insanity and his hair was slightly messy.
KRRRR!
A lone tentacle extended out from behind his back, delicately placing a pair of sunglasses on the bridge of his nose while two others covered his small back with a long leather coat.
"To 'honor the agreement,'" he rolled his eyes before scratching his cheek with an unbothered expression. "You wished to know when I left, so I'm here. I'm leaving for Killian."
"What?!" Kingpin boomed. "I believed you wanted to make him come to you. Why go now? Too impatient?"
"He's on his way," Otto grinned, making Kingpin's eyelid twitch.
"Bullshit!" Kingpin growled. "I have received no such information."
"Oh, you didn't hear about the madman who can melt metal and write poetry, hijacking a plane from California to New York City? He killed around forty people while disfiguring two hundred. The police shot him eleven times and he barely flinched. They're calling him Vulcan."
"You lie," Kingpin denied the claim. "My informant is trailing Killian as we speak."
"Ah! That psycho? The Jack O'Lantern?" Otto smiled, the insanity increasing in his eyes. "When's the last time you've heard from him?"
"You know of him. That means you disposed of him." Kingpin spoke quietly, his demeanor turning unnaturally calm.
"Right yet again! You're doing great, you ape," Otto clapped as though he were at a game show before pointing at Sergie. "Killed by his brother, in fact. The Chameleon is the best infiltrator I could ever ask for!"
The Russian's initially indifferent face morphed into a frown as he glared at the eight-limbed doctor before glowering at Kingpin behind him.
"Dmitri works for you both? And you never told me?" Segrie grit his teeth at the behemoth, a primal aura emanating from his dangerous figure.
"Works for the slimy octopus, not me," Kingpin said without missing a beat and looked at Otto with emotionless eyes. "I have very little information on his group, and vice versa. We even had an unspoken rule of not touching each other's teams."
"Unspoken. Not spoken, or written."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you kill Jack?" Fisk asked, his brows furrowing, looking confused. "It achieves nothing. Perhaps you may delay my information network by a few days, but that's all. I was not stopping you from going after Killian either. Why damage your business partner for no reason? I allowed you to break the rules twice already, Otto. This is the third time."
"You ask me why I killed Jack?" Otto chuckled, leaning back, allowing his mechanical limbs to hold him up.
"What? Did the chemical explosion fuck up your ears, too?" Segrie snarled, his fingers digging into his biceps - still mad at Octavious for mentioning family.
"Shut up, dog," Octavious grumbled and looked at Kingpin. "I killed him because I wanted to see how it would be like if the Jack O'lantern died the same way his victims do - his brains scooped out and a candle placed inside. Let me tell you, it was hilarious."
Kingpin walked forward and placed a large hand on Sergie's shoulder, temporarily calming him down.
"You haven't been the same since you took the shit Killian gave you, have you? A Techno-organic implant, was it?" Fisk frowned.
Otto's face morphed from sadistic joy to anger, "I am the same. I upgraded it to control my arms perfectly! I can't go wrong!"
"You have," Fisk affirmed. "The Octavius I knew never killed without some profit to be made. He was someone with more arrogance than brains, yes, but he had some brains at the very least."
"You!" Otto's eyes flared up in rage and a tentacle behind his back blurred, shooting at Fisk with the speed of a bullet.
BANG!
"You dare call me a DOG!" Sergei roared as Octavious' tentacle fell limply to the side - a fist-sized imprint on its body. His fist steamed from the sheer amount of friction generated in the feat.
"KRAVEN!" Kingpin immediately roared stopping Sergie from blasting forward and ripping Otto apart with his bare hands.
He looked back at his temporary employer, his eyes as feral as they can be - glowing a light yellow while his pupils began to elongate.
"Why?" he gave a guttural growl akin to a lion but Kingpin stayed silent.
"Otto. Leave," Fisk said in an authoritative tone, his voice leaving no room for talking back.
"Fuck you both!" Octavious growled before his tentacles slammed into the ground before smashing into the door and carrying him outside.
"You'll let him walk all over you like that?" Sergie questioned, his predatory eyes fixed on the broken door. "Why didn't you let me kill him."
Wilson Fisk merely gave him a wicked smile, "Politics."
***
Peter placed the syringe back in the compartment and immediately convulsed, falling to one knee. He winced as heat began slowly flowing through his muscles, making them contract tightly before relaxing them slowly.
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
His heart began to beat faster as his body produced adrenaline in copious amounts, triggering his fight or flight response. Sweat poured down his face as he grit his teeth, enduring the discomfort that poured over him.
Eventually, after ten long seconds, the heat and pain began to recede which made him a little confused.
"I thought it would be more pai-
"AAAAAAAARGH!!!" A guttural roar tore through his throat as the sounds of bones cracking echoed in the empty room, like the shattering of delicate glass. His spine arched with pain and his irises turned a bright green as his mind began to expand, shattering the hard limits set by the human brain.
CRACK!CRACK!CRACK!
"AARGHGRRRRRAOAAAARGHH!!!" An amalgamation of human and reptilian noises escaped his throat as his muscles tore, healed, and expanded at an accelerated rate. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, a searing agony that seemed to seep into his very soul.
His fingers twitched as they extended into exceedingly sharp, claw-like appendages, his skin extending along with him, reddish-brown scales rippling on them, growing from his arm to crawling up his neck and his face before elongating into large spines that intertwined into thick armor.
He could feel his teeth elongating, becoming edged and sharper, as his mouth extended into a snout-like shape. Each tooth felt like a white-hot needle was being shoved through his gums, to which he let out yet another guttural, agonized roar that echoed off the walls of the abandoned room.
His spine arched once more, but more violently as his entire body underwent a grotesque metamorphosis. The cracking sounds intensified as his legs grew longer, his feet reshaping into powerful, clawed appendages that could rip through metal with ease. His torso and back expanded as his muscles bulged and contorted once more, adapting to his new form. His height shot up as his tailbone twisted and elongated, forming a long and sinuous tail that thrashed violently behind him.
His once-human eyes were now blood-red, similar to the serum—the reptilian slits in his eyes glinting with a feral intensity that would send shivers down anybody's spine. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain ebbed away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration and strength.
He stood to his full nine-foot form which made his head scrape the ceiling while enjoying the incredible power that coursed through his muscles as he flexed, releasing thunderous snaps that sounded like gunshots.
{So many new sensations...}, he growled, his voice sounding much deeper with an almost metallic undertone as though someone had dragged a razor against a piece of stone.
End Of Arc
***
GIMME MORE POWERSTONES, LETS POWER ONTO FIRST PLACE!!!! WOOOHOOOO!!!