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Inside the lab, the dormant force within Nolan, what he referred to as Dragonforce, suddenly stirred to life. A soft white glow rippled along his spine, and pearly-white energy began circulating through specific pathways mapped deep within his nervous system.
The searing heat in his lungs cooled. His crimson-tinged eyes dimmed. Even the pressure in his skull, nearly unbearable minutes ago, began to ease.
Warm waves of internal energy spread outward, soothing the pain that had almost torn his mind apart.
"Damn… No wonder high-level psychics lose control during awakening. The sheer disruption to cerebral magnetic fields in that instant is overwhelming."
Rubbing his forehead, Nolan took a deep breath. The recent injection of the Magnetism Manipulation gene had been a hard-earned lesson.
Even for someone like him with enhanced biology and advanced control, a top-tier X-Gene awakening came with extreme risks. If he'd lost focus for even a moment, the entire lab complex could've been flattened.
He reflected aloud, "The lungs held up better because the magnetic intensity in that region is more stable. It's the brain volatile, ever-shifting that nearly short-circuited everything."
He jotted the experience down. This kind of data would be crucial for the mutant enhancement program he was planning.
Level-5 mutants were on a different plane entirely.
Everything developmental complexity, awakening risk, and power scale were exponentially beyond Level-4s.
It was almost as if anything beneath Level 5 was a failed prototype.
With just a thought, lines of magneto-sensory data filled Nolan's vision. Previously, he had needed magnetic powder to visualize fields. Now, the currents danced in front of his eyes like neon threadwork across reality.
"What an incredible force…"
He imagined it: the magnetic lines inside a simple potato disrupted entirely. Every atom inside turned chaotic, electrons unbound. That explosion would rival a city-level nuclear event.
But the required magnetic field strength was staggering. The level of quantum precision needed to manipulate electrons on that scale? Absurd.
"Honestly, Erik did pretty well just flipping tanks and tossing bridges."
He was lucky the Erik of this world was the movie version of Magneto. If it had been the comic version?
Nolan would've stayed far, far away.
Even if Erik eventually reached those heights, Nolan wasn't afraid anymore. Not now.
He glanced at the surgical scalpel on his workstation. With a subtle pulse, the blade floated into his hand, hovered, and then shot like a bullet toward the window—
BOOM!
A flash of heat burst just outside the lab. The explosion vanished instantly. The blade's shattered hilt returned to Nolan's palm.
"Tch. Still stuck at ionizing surface atoms. That's not a proper thermonuclear chain reaction yet."
He was attempting to induce subatomic destabilization in the scalpel's atoms. It worked… to a point. But post-explosion interference ruined further targeting.
"Still needs refinement."
Nolan exhaled.
Manipulating external magnetic fields was far more difficult than affecting his own. The more microscopic the target or the more massive the harder it was to control.
Electron motion was quantum-dependent. To track and guide their paths precisely? That was god-tier physics.
"Otto," he called, "Send me all your compiled AI frameworks. Also, start prototyping the anti-Magneto armor. I want instant demagnetization protocols included. Use anything in the rare metal archives."
"On it!" the synthetic voice replied.
…
Nolan removed his gloves.
Lying on the surgical table was a Black man. Next to him stood Ulysses Klaue, his expression smug with retribution.
The body was T'Chaka.
"Physically, he's at the absolute human peak," Nolan noted. "No residual traces of chemical enhancers or foreign mutagens. Whatever enhanced him worked on his organ structure, not his DNA."
Klaue raised an eyebrow. "So, worthless?"
"For your revenge? Nah. Just toss him in the incinerator."
Nolan shook his head. Whatever boosted T'Challa and his father wasn't just science it was divine.
"The real strength came from that so-called 'Heart-Shaped Herb.' Its function isn't just to enhance it grants access to the Black Panther god's dimension. That divine link is where the real power lies."
He frowned.
Was the Panther God the same as the Panther goddess Bast from African mythology?
Unless they obtained the herb itself, studying T'Chaka or T'Challa wouldn't yield any meaningful results.
"Thanks, boss," Klaue said, pushing T'Chaka's body into the furnace. Flames roared.
T'Chaka had been dead already. Nolan had only wanted to probe Wakandan biology and see what secrets the herb might hold.
He exhaled like it was just another routine experiment.
"What's the latest on Ross?"
"Forty-two failed trials so far. A few project leads even got executed."
"No signs of them handing the project over to us?"
"Still hesitant. They probably don't want you getting access to their proprietary data."
Just then, Klaue's phone rang. He checked the caller.
"Military," he said.
He answered and listened.
"They want you onboard, boss. Special title. Lead Scientific Consultant on a classified initiative."
Nolan raised a brow. "Still calling it 'classified'? It's just another Hulk replication project, isn't it? What's the offer?"
For a regular scientist, even someone at Dr. Connors' level, the military's invitation was an order. But not for Nolan.
He wasn't just a scientist. He was also Oscorp Industries' majority shareholder.
And in America? Wealth is power.
Enough wealth? You move armies.
Oscorp was currently the military's largest supplier of weapons tech. Crossing them would be suicide for any logistics officer.
If they wanted him, they had to pay.
Experimental data wasn't a bonus—it was a requirement.
"They're offering partial data from the original Hulk experiments if you succeed."
"Partial?" Nolan scoffed. "I want all of it. And let's be clear—I'll develop an injectable version of the serum. But I make no promises about reproducing a second Hulk."
Back then, Oscorp Industries was still fledgling, and Ross had leverage.
But now? Nolan's position had changed—and so had the terms.
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