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Inside the sealed depths of the Oscorp underground lab, a storm was brewing. Not outside but in the lungs.
Dozens of test subjects lay strapped to tables, intravenous lines hooked into their arms, their bodies trembling.
Overhead, B-scan monitors flickered in real time, pulsing with data. Every movement. Every breath. Every failure.
Doctor Nolan watched them all, silent and focused.
Another subject's face turned red, veins bulging, voice choking:
"I can't… breathe! Please—someone—!"
He collapsed within seconds.
"Dissect him," Nolan ordered coldly. "Extract all pulmonary samples. Analyze alveolar saturation."
Two more went the same way lungs expanding unnaturally, blood oxygen plummeting.
The monitors screamed.
But Nolan's eyes stayed fixed on the screen. His mind ran faster than any machine.
"Overinflation…" he muttered. "Oxygen is present but not absorbed."
He isolated the anomaly.
"Gas exchange isn't happening. The alveoli are saturated but hemoglobin isn't binding oxygen."
He tapped rapidly into the interface, bringing up animated models.
"Respiration breaks down in stage two capillary diffusion. Not mechanical failure. Not blood pressure. The culprit…"
He froze the display.
"…is CO₂."
The alveolar membranes were overloaded not with air, but with carbon dioxide.
"Too much intake," he said. "The modified lung cells, taken from Storm's genome, are overreacting. Both gases O₂ and CO₂ are absorbed indiscriminately. It's a chemical chokehold."
Blood cells are flooded with carbon dioxide. Oxygen was blocked. And the brain died in silence.
Nolan stood still.
Then he turned away from the corpse.
"Shut down further injections. We need to rebalance the expression ratios."
He pulled up the genetic code again.
"Storm's X-gene is too aggressive across the whole lung structure," he said. "We'll localize it and apply it only to specific clusters of alveoli. Enough to host the power, not overwrite the organ."
He added more of Max's bioelectric DNA into the formula. A calculated move.
"Dillon's cells give us precision over electric signals. We'll use that to regulate the expression zones."
The computers began to hum louder. Parameters flowed across the screen like a waterfall of code.
Nolan's eyes read faster than the fans could cool the processors.
Tapping into Otto's upgraded AI system, he offloaded minor calculations.
Finally, the simulation stabilized.
The formula synthesized:
Blue. Cold. Stable.
"Prepare the next batch."
The new serum, blue as glacier glass, was injected into a new subject.
He screamed.
Then exhaled.
A sudden gust of freezing wind blew from his mouth slamming into lab shelves and scattering vials across the floor.
Nolan didn't flinch.
"Super breath..." he whispered.
But seconds later, the man spasmed violently blood vessels rupturing lungs imploding from within.
"His lungs… dissolved," one assistant gasped.
Nolan exhaled slowly. "That means it worked."
Storm and Iceman's genes had activated simultaneously.
But the body rejected them. Two dominant X-genes, fighting for control. The body had no failsafe.
"Dispose of him," Nolan said. "Burn the remains."
He was done testing. Now it was his turn.
He calibrated his personal syringe.
A custom variant tailored to his cell structure, immune system, and the stabilizing agent embedded in Max's bioelectric control cells.
With calm precision, Nolan jabbed the needle into his own chest, piercing straight into his lung wall.
Cold erupted inside him.
His entire torso seized with a glacial grip but he didn't flinch.
Instead, he inhaled.
And exhaled.
A faint breeze blew from his lips icy, controlled, silent.
He smiled.
"Perfect."
Nolan walked to the edge of the lab and opened the reinforced glass.
His feet rose off the ground.
Winds circled around him as he launched skyward, slicing through clouds like a rocket.
"I want to see what full capacity looks like…"
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