Chapter 22: The Great Evolution

As the laboratory door slid open, Susan stepped inside and approached Reed.

"I'm glad you're okay, Sue."

Though his words sounded caring, Reed's attention remained fixated on the zombie corpse before him. With meticulous precision, he sliced off a small piece of the zombie's heart and placed it under a microscope for closer examination.

His gaze fixed on the microscope's eyepiece, as if deep in communication with the zombie cells under scrutiny.

Susan moved closer, unfazed by his aloof demeanor, and asked with concern, "What are you doing here alone? I thought you were working with Banner and Tony."

"They're busy with other projects," Reed replied, not looking up. "We decided to split up our research. This way, if one of us makes a breakthrough, the others can join in to help."

"That's Tony's idea," he added with a small nod, "but I agreed."

Susan nodded in understanding.

"Although, to be honest, I don't know how their side is doing. But here—I think I've made some progress."

"Oh?" Susan prompted, curious despite herself.

Reed's eyes lit up with excitement. "These creatures are fascinating. They're human, but they're not. The virus transforms them into incredibly efficient beings."

"Can you imagine? An average adult male needs at least 15,000 calories and 20 liters of water a week to survive. These creatures? They need a thousandth—or even a ten-thousandth—of that."

Susan's expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief. Her eyes widened, and she shouted, "These zombies are monsters! They're not some 'new life.' Don't forget what they did to our child!"

Reed, still hunched over the corpse, barely acknowledged her outburst. Instead, he scrutinized the body with a detached air, murmuring, "I haven't forgotten. But I also can't ignore the fact that their biology represents a form of evolution."

"This evolution, in some ways, makes them better suited for survival in this brutal world."

With that, he plucked out one of the zombie's eyes and held it up for closer inspection, murmuring praises under his breath.

Susan was struck speechless, her anger and despair bubbling over. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from the man she once admired. These words—this cold, clinical admiration for the enemy—came from Reed Richards, the man who was supposed to stand by her.

"Evolution? A brutal world? The world is only brutal because of them! They destroyed our home, killed the people we love—and now you want us to marvel at their so-called evolution?"

Her voice trembled with emotion, and her eyes blazed with both fury and helplessness. She couldn't understand how Reed could speak so dispassionately about the very creatures responsible for their suffering.

Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the lab, unwilling to spend another moment in the presence of her seemingly deranged husband.

"They've shut down many of their organs," Reed muttered to himself, unfazed by her departure. "Because they no longer need them. And yet, they retain mobility and some intelligence. But their brains seem underutilized—curious."

"Are you still here, Sue?" he called absently, glancing around briefly before returning to his work.

Unbeknownst to Reed, "Susan" had already disappeared. As soon as she stepped out of the lab, her demeanor shifted, her features slackening into an expressionless mask. She melted into a crack in the wall and vanished.

From a hidden surveillance room, Noah leaned back and observed the scene on the monitor with an unimpressed expression. "As expected. Maybe he lost his mind after losing his kid, or maybe he's always been this insane. Either way, Reed now sees these zombies as the future of humanity."

Noah smirked darkly. "To be fair, he's not entirely wrong about their low energy needs. But he's missing one critical point: hunger."

"In a normal human, the brain regulates appetite, ensuring you don't eat yourself to death. Zombies, on the other hand, are different. Even though they feel full, their undying nature means they can keep eating, even to the point of bursting their guts."

Noah chuckled grimly. "There are exceptions, of course—zombie heroes who can resist hunger. But that won't happen for another forty years. Until then, they'll consume everything in their path."

Fury sat silently in the corner, his one eye fixed on the screen where Reed continued to study the corpse. The S.H.I.E.L.D. director was unusually contemplative, his expression unreadable.

Fearing that Fury might waver, Noah leaned forward and spoke sharply. "Remember what you said about my predictions. I foresaw this, just like I foresaw how injuring Quicksilver gave you the time you needed."

"And if you still doubt my visions, let me remind you: these zombies are immortal. They don't need to eat or drink, but they'll devour everything anyway. Even Reed's research confirms it."

When Fury remained silent, Noah slammed his hand on the table, his voice rising in frustration. "What are you waiting for? Kill Reed now! Or do you want all of us to end up as their snacks?"

After a long pause, Fury suddenly burst into laughter. His laughter was deep and resonant, carrying a note of relief. He extended a hand toward Noah.

"You've proven your value—and your loyalty. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."

Noah blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. But then he smirked and firmly shook Fury's hand.

"A pleasure to collaborate."

Back in his seat, Fury lit a cigar and handed one to Noah, who accepted it with a grin. Fury took a drag, then gestured to the holographic screen, where Reed's every move was being recorded.

"Computer, initiate purge of Level 30, Gamma Sector 16."

"Warning: Target area contains a registered hero, ID: 00042, Reed Richards (Mr. Fantastic). Protective protocols in place. Purge denied."

Fury exhaled a cloud of smoke, unperturbed. He tapped the console again. "Override with Level 10 clearance. Ensure the target is fully neutralized."

"Override successful. Commencing purge."

On the monitor, Reed finally stood up, wiping his forehead and removing his lab coat. He glanced around the room with mild confusion.

Was it just his imagination, or had the lab suddenly grown warmer?