An Another One

Authors Note-

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...

After finalizing the contract, Ivan escorted the Henry Morgans back to their respective homes, allowing them a seven-day window to attend to their personal matters.

Both of them held regular jobs, and their household included an adopted son Abraham Morgan, the baby survivor of a concentration camp had grown up over the years.

Upon learning that Ivan was a farmer, Henry Morgan and Abigail wore perplexed expressions. The idea of associating this handsome young man with mysterious powers with the role of a farmer seemed incongruous.

Meanwhile, Ivan sought a fearless housekeeper for his family's farm, leading to a piece of perplexing news.

"Dr. Ivan, I detected the awakening of a mutant just now. Upon extracting his gene and sending it to the cradle of rebirth, I found something unusual. I think I should report it to you."

Taking a sip of the red wine beside him, Ivan responded casually, "That's quite rare. The number of mutants on Earth has exceeded 10,000, and mutants awaken almost daily. What makes this report special?"

"This mutant is a ten-year-old child with the ability of energy absorption. Genetic comparison confirms he is your son."

Puff! The red wine Ivan was sipping sprayed out, his expression turning silly. Slowly twisting his neck with a clicking sound, he exclaimed, "Son. Red Queen, either you didn't express yourself clearly, or I misheard. Is something wrong with you? Are you confirming what I think?"

"Yes, Dr. Ivan, as you think, you have another son," replied the Red Queen, her voice carrying a playful tone for some reason.

"Okay, tell me what's going on? Was my body tissue obtained by some mysterious department, and a clone of me was cloned?" Ivan resisted, reluctant to admit the truth, holding on to his last fantasy.

"Dr. Ivan, I know what you're thinking, but I advise you not to resist. Accept the reality; it's not a clone. It's another son, distinct from Master Kyle, your biological son."

"I definitely don't believe it. Then tell me who is the mother of the child? I admit that I have dated a lot of women, but they all have precautions, so how could it be possible to conceive."

"The child's mother is former CIA agent Moira McTaggart." [ Universe - Ha, Ha (^-^)]

Ivan, with a flood of thoughts, was restrained. Memories of that cold night in Las Vegas in 1992 resurfaced. It was the first time he tried to alter the plot. Despite his attempts to restrain the detective Moira during her investigation in clubs, she discovered the mutant secret.

"Well, I admit there was a possibility that she is pregnant. The issue is that the female detective would have undergone tests in the U.S. due to urine samples. She should have aborted the child. Why was this child born?"

"On this matter, I specifically hacked into the CIA's computer and checked the information. Initially, this was a plan involving the professor. They believed the child's father was the professor, so they decided to keep the child."

"How could the CIA make such a blunder? Doesn't Moira know who the child's biological father is? Why did she choose to give birth to this child?" Ivan questioned. There was a lingering doubt. Was it ruthlessness or a ploy to use the child as a bargaining chip against the professor, who was also her old lover?

"Don't tell me, according to the information I found, she genuinely doesn't know the child's biological father. Initially, she collaborated with the professor, opposing Mr. Shaw's plan. The professor, injured and disabled, didn't want to be implicated. So, she erased her memory, possibly due to the ability control issues after the professor's injury, leading to confusion. Even the events between you two were forgotten."

Ivan sighed bitterly. The truth of the matter was unexpected. Despite Ivan's increasing physical fitness making it difficult for a woman to conceive, Moira, in pursuit of a bid, had become pregnant.

If Moira's memory had been intact, her hatred for Ivan would likely have led to an immediate abortion upon discovering her pregnancy. However, the professor's assistance confounded her memory, resulting in the current situation.

"Red Queen, earlier you mentioned this was a plan for the professor. What's the status now?" inquired Ivan.

"Rest assured, Dr. Ivan, the plan has been abandoned. Initially, they intended to wait for the child to be born, to be trained and brainwashed from a young age. As he grew up, he would enter the police force and become an undercover agent. To ensure the plan's smooth progress, the CIA arranged for a retired agent to marry Moira. Although he was labeled as retired, he had always been an active staff member. Unfortunately, his mission was ineffective in the end," explained the Red Queen.

Ivan was left speechless. The U.S. Intelligence Agency's plan had potential success if the child was adequately trained, but they made a wrong assumption from the beginning.

"After the child was born and subjected to genetic comparison, the U.S. discovered that the child had no blood relationship with the professor. Their prior preparations were in vain, and they were unwilling to accept it. Given that the child was seemingly ordinary, they abandoned the plan, concluding the agent's mission. Miss Moira's marriage lasted for a few years, ending in divorce soon after the birth of the second child. Now, your son lives with Miss Moira."

Concerned, Ivan asked, "How is he... how is he now? Is he okay?"

"Not very well. After Miss Moira's divorce, her youngest son was taken away by her husband. Living with his mother, he has been autistic since childhood, exhibiting intelligence levels lower than children of the same age. Unable to communicate with ordinary people, Moira hired a nanny to take care of him."

Upon hearing about his son's current situation, Ivan couldn't contain his anger and roared angrily, "Give me the coordinates!"

...

In a beautiful villa in New York, the space fluctuated, and Ivan's figure appeared. Sensing the situation, he observed the nanny packing clothes in one room while his son played with fire in the kitchen. Ivan, clicking his fingers, sent a peculiar magic wave. The nanny froze mid-action, fixed in place. Without further delay, Ivan turned and headed to the kitchen.

When Ivan entered the kitchen, he witnessed a ten-year-old boy lighting gas and placing his hand on the flame. Strangely, the flame didn't harm him; it appeared to be absorbed by his palm.

Unsurprised, Ivan recalled that the Red Queen had mentioned his son possessing the same energy absorption ability. Knocking on the kitchen door to regain his son's attention, Ivan noticed the child's panic at the unfamiliar presence.

Assuring the child that he meant no harm, Ivan introduced himself, "Don't worry, I'm not malicious. Can you tell me your name?" 

The child calmed down unexpectedly quickly, listening to Ivan nodding, "My name is Christopher McTaggart, who are you? Why are you here?"

Understanding that the child took his mother's surname, Ivan explained, "I'll naturally tell you about my identity in detail, but this isn't the place to talk. Can we find a quiet place and take it slow?"

Chris agreed and led Ivan to his private room, which was well-furnished with toys, showcasing Moira's care for her son.

Noticing a seemingly random pile of wood on a table, Ivan was surprised. Although it appeared as a child's doodle, Ivan, with his high IQ, recognized it as a chess endgame. Intrigued, he moved one of the blocks.

Chris's eyes lit up, and he swiftly moved another block. The seemingly irregularly arranged blocks represented a chess endgame, a level of complexity only understood by individuals with a high IQ, such as Ivan.

Father and son enjoyed their time, and despite Ivan going easy on Chris, he unexpectedly lost. This demonstrated Chris's intelligence surpassing that of renowned international chess players.

Puzzled about his son's inability to communicate despite his intelligence, Ivan raised the difficulty of questions to a university level. Frustrated, he exclaimed, "What low intelligence level? My son is a genius among geniuses. No wonder he can't communicate with children his age. It's like having a doctoral student interact with a kindergartener—their IQs are not on the same channel. How could they possibly talk?"