Chapter 9: The Inner Thoughts of a Genius (Hanz POV)

Ace Jonah Jameson. Such an… Intriguing character of a man.

A bit lacking in the brain department, but he would make do for now. After all, with him he would get a foot into the budding superhero community, as slow as it has been growing. It was minuscule, as of the moment, but he knew it was only a matter of time before more of the so-called superheroes rose up.

Be it Meta-humans, mutates, or supernaturals, or Mutants as the annoying Professor kept calling them. He will never understand how such a man could call a member of his own species a Mutant. Such a negative, derogatory word.

Meta-humans should be the term to refer to the Homo sapiens superior, as a certain Magnetokinetic would call them.

Both were great men, but both held such stupid ideals and powers that gave them the belief they were right. Magneto he could understand, he was a survivor from the nazi concentration camps, such terrifying and useless things. Didn't even do their jobs efficiently.

Yet, Xavier on the other hand… His goals were… Noble, he guessed. To have both humans and Meta-humans living together. But he had to agree with Magneto's own beliefs on this. Humanity would not live, or co-exist with another apex-predator. We barely did with each other, when the only differences we had were languages, culture, and skin color.

But trying to do that with a group that possed superpowers of their own? It was highly improbable, almost impossible in a way. And that showed, through cracked databases, unsecured cameras, and word of mouth of fellow Meta-humans. 

They were tortured, abused, broken, called inferior, lesser, kidnapped, or raped. Or worse. Became sick science experiments lead by our own government, or by the ''secret'' groups of it.

As if they were Untersmensch. Unmenschlich.

Sub-human. Inhuman.

He was never more disgusted and disappointed in his own species than when he discovered such things. 

Such potential, such power, was lost and thrown away. Powers that could've helped humanity evolve, improve, and grow in unimaginable ways!

Yet for as much power as a few of them yielded, they were powerless to act.

For an act of aggression from a meta-human is seen as the most terrible thing, as the most hideous crime, and the vilest thing that one could do. illustrating that they are animals, savages, and other disgusting words. And even when they did act, they were banished, brutalized, or disappeared. 

Lucky ones arrived in Xavier's little fancy mansion, the naive and ignorant ones of the true reality and colors of the world. These were fortuitous enough to either find the X-Men, or had at least learned of them at some point in their lives, or were found by them in one of their missions to ''help'' Meta-humankind.

And those that sought revenge, righteousness, and equality… Well, Magneto was the only other one who spoke about anything resembling such, even if his ambitions were perhaps more than that.

Hanz didn't like it. He hated it. This illogical attitude and behavior, only for what? Envy and Jealousy? Of fearing the unknown? Of the different? Of the mutate? It was appalling and terrifying.

He feared it. Illogical as it was.

Why, you might ask?

Well… He was one of them. 

He has it. 

Unawakened, and a total mystery as to what his power, or powers if he was lucky enough, might be. 

But he has it.

The ''X-Gene'', or Meta-Gene, as he personally calls it. It was simple to identify the different helix patterns and compare them to public records, mostly given and published by Xavier and Doctor Henry McCoy. And a few cracked government databases, and a few ''secret'' groups that ''studied'' Meta-humans.

He sighed in disappointment. Both for the loss of his fellow Meta-humans and also for the loss of such a brilliant mind to a delusional pacifist of all things.

Henry McCoy is an extremely intelligent man, and working for Xavier of all people is a waste of his talents. At least it wasn't for Magneto, if the old man had gotten to him he doubted he had any chance of convincing the good doctor to switch sides. But he really wished he had found the man earlier, and recruited him for his own goals. But alas, when he did learn of him, he had already joined Professor Xavier and his little merry band of X-Men.

*Thunk!*

Turning around, he grunted as he saw Prototype Omnidroid 01 had somehow fallen on its back. He gave it a pitying look, with a small amount of hope that it would realize it could move no matter if it was flipped upside down, or not. He had designed it in a spherical shape, after all. It should be trivially easy to walk on either side.

Popping from the small spherical body, a red visor briefly scanned its surroundings before looking gazes at him, and ''narrowing'' its red optics, almost as if it was blinking, as it then made distressed noises at him. Wiggling its long mechanical legs, wildly.

It was cute, almost like a cat, or a flipped turtle, but in the end, he folded to its cries, as he grabbed the little ball and flipped it onto the ''right'' side. It beeped in thanks before it continued its self-learning routine, climbing over and around toolboxes, and random half-finished projects.

It was only a matter of time before the little Omnidroid learned how to walk properly and exercise its full body capabilities. A few minor tweaks and rewritten lines of code would also speed up its process, but for now, he would leave it to learn and explore his workshop. Its self-leaning subroutine was sufficient for now. And he had bigger things to worry about.

''Soon… Soon I'll have an unstoppable robot army. An army that adapts and predicts its opponents' moves and superpowers! Mwahahahahahaha!'' He cackled before it turned into a brief coughing fit and he then blushed a little after it calmed down.

''I just hope no one points out I stole the design from, The Incredibles. Thank you, Syndrome, and thank you Pixar for making such a cool design.'' He closed his hands together and nodded before he moved on to better things to spend his time on.

Like his most recently acquired samples of a certain mutate's blood.

''You are really trusting, Mr. Jameson. I'll make sure such a trait gets used properly.'' He said as he narrowed his eyes, looking at one of the various monitors he had installed into the ''small'' supercomputer, as it slowly 'decoded' a DNA string of Ace's DNA.

The DNA of Ace had somehow been rewritten, once he had been bitten by one of Oscorp's genetically engineered spiders. He knew, from breaking into their servers online, that the spiders had traces of something he dearly wished he could get his hands on.

The Super Soldier Serum. Of course, Oscorp didn't have the original version. And he wasn't 100% sure they had anything close to it, as their notes were incredibly vague, and fascinating in equal amounts.

It wasn't surprising that they didn't have anything close to that level. It was unfortunately destroyed in WW2 by a Hydra Saboteur if he remembers correctly. But it was really a damn shame it was injected into a woman of all people. Oh, don't get him wrong. He isn't coming at this in a sexist way but in a purely logical perspective.

Biologically speaking, human males will always be stronger than human females. So, using a serum that would enhance such, amongst other things, on a female, is a waste. Even if he was glad that the results were amazing.

Captain America, or Samantha Wilson will not be as strong as she could be, though. And all for the simple fact she had XX chromosomes instead of XY ones. She had a striking track record, after all, and she was a major pawn in the game of War that pushed the slowly crumbling Reich to its downfall. Oh, but what he wouldn't give to take samples from her blood, spine, and brain to recreate the Serum and actually use it on a better subject. 

But he wasn't too worried about such a thing, as Oscorp's version of it might hold some potential. As it didn't need Vita Radiation or the gargantuan amounts of power the original formula needed to power the injection tubes, of the metal sarcophagus.

The Oz formula, flawed as it was, was still the closest thing he had to an actual Super Soldier Serum. And best of all? It was gaseous. No Vita Radiation or absurd power requirements are needed to use it due to the different methods of administration. It was a truly brilliant innovation to the Serum! He wished he could've grabbed Parker, and shown him this, helped him fix the formula, to recreate it! But, no. The gods damned idiot was fixated on Connor's Formula, which was even worse than anything that Oscorp could come up with.

Oh, don't get him wrong, Dr. Connors was overqualified to be teaching in his school. It was the only fact he actually enjoyed teaching that stopped him from offering the man a job under him, the man was even after spending years in a high school, still dedicated to teaching the next generation. But, as intelligent the man was, he was ignorant of the side effects his formula might cause if it was used. It had turned into a minor obsession for the Doctor, one he was quite proud of. 

However, it didn't change the fact that you would turn into a giant feral lizard at best, or a bunch of cancer cells at worst as one of the few outcomes he could predict from having seen the formula as Parker had shared a copied version of it to him. He was surprisingly sneaky when he wanted to be.

Yet the boy, stubborn as a tool, still kept trying to make it work. It would be the death of him, he knew it. Chasing after an answer to an unsolvable problem. He hoped Parker wouldn't waste years of his life trying to perfect it, as Dr. Connors had, it would be a huge waste of his talents and bright mind.

*Beep!* *Beep!* *Beep!* *Beep!*

''Hmm? Well… This… Complicates things.'' He murmured as he looked at the displayed results, blinking in surprise.

He could see it, clear as daylight, and what he saw was… Alarming. 

Ace's strength was currently, give or take 23 to 26 tons, after he had him lifting a bunch of his heavier machinery and the super weights he had. Maybe 30 to 35 if his brain released enough adrenaline in a high emotional state, be it in a fight, or in fear. 

But if what he was reading was right… Ace would become beyond superhuman. 

Slowly. At a snail's pace.

It wouldn't be a fast process, it would take years, and outside triggers to truly… Release the growth, and strengthener phase coded into his DNA. A growth spurt, in a way.

But he knew that Ace… Ace might just be able to lift a mountain one day. Either as an old man or… if something cracked him enough times, stressed him enough times, did things enough times. 

Just right. 

Just perfectly. 

Just… Completely and utterly perfectly, that it would trigger the sequence.

Ace's strength wouldn't double, or triple. It would quadruple, quintuple, maybe even more.

''Mein Gotts…'' He murmured in mild disbelief.

Such power, such strength. And it ended in someone he was damn sure was autistic in some way. He couldn't help it, he chuckled, which slowly built up to laughter, as he laughed like a maniac.

It wasn't a happy laugh, it was a depressing one.

''Weak men are made stronger, and Strong men are made weaker. Ironic. Comedic, almost.'' He sighed tiredly, a few chuckles still escaping him before he quickly began noting down his findings and how to hopefully recreate them.

Cloning was a possibility, but unless he wished to have a son, he wouldn't bother with it. Not to mention he would have to waste time programming a mind and memories into the clone, a process he had no knowledge of. 

Recreating the spider bite might be possible if Ace's trigger wasn't supernatural in nature. He had the notes on the spiders, half-unfinished and missing a few of them, but he had all of the online notes that the scientist at Oscorp had saved. It might be possible to simply recreate it, or change the ''Spider-Man Formula'', with those notes.

But considering Ace said he met a God, or maybe hallucinated the meeting, as it was a possibility, the concoction of the venom had the potential to give hallucinations, it was highly probable it was a mix of a physical trigger and a meta-physical one.

It would take time, maybe a few months to years. If he was lucky and acquired a steady supply of samples to conduct tests from Ace. It should be an easy affair, Ace was a gullible and trusting fool. He would have to make sure the boy didn't do anything stupid, or make promises that he couldn't keep. It would be annoying if those ''secret'' groups noticed his presence, or focused on him.

Thankfully, the suit he is designing should keep him safe enough and also serve as a tracker of his whereabouts. He doesn't even doubt, that if the fool found out about it, he could easily lie about it, and explain it being for his own protection. After all, what would happen to him if he blacked out and couldn't make his way back home? Hanz would at least know, as he planned to add vitals and heart monitors, so he could keep a check on his condition. 

Help him as his ''Guy In The Chair'' is supposed to. And it had the added benefit of allowing him to monitor him more directly.

How he performed, how he acted, and how he improved. The helmet camera would be the most useful thing, in his opinion. Alongside the inner and outer microphones recording any sound made around him, and whatever he spoke. He would have plenty of data to go over, once Ace's suit is finished and given to him.

'Maybe I should get him to start practicing yoga, and other exercises? He could be beyond superhuman in strength, but he is definitely not a brute. His DNA seems to favor reaction, agility, and dexterity. Adding flexibility to that list would only be beneficial. Maybe get him an instructor, if he doesn't improve in the coming months? Yes, that could work. I'll just forge mother and father's signatures by the ninth thousand time, and contract a martial artist instructor.' Hanz thought as he plotted, and analyzed the DNA strands of Ace.

Ace Jonah Jameson. For better, or for worse, you will be an interesting subject to observe.

Mad, devious, and plottish laughter echoed throughout the lab as schemes and plans were formed. Ace's future was a tumultuous uncertain affair, he was sure of it, but he would make sure he didn't break down. 

He was a useful asset, and maybe even a friend if the boy managed to raise a few of his own IQ points.