Chapter 75
Lucas's courier was fast, silent, and professional. A cold, cryogenic canister hissed into my hands, and a sealed vial of Ghost Orchid extract followed it. I immediately wired forty-two million dollars from the corporate account to the secure account he had provided.
I had to thank Fury for the 250 million advance on the reactors. He would understand that I had spent forty-two million of it while bypassing the official S.H.I.E.L.D. channels. Spy agency directors aren't supposed to take things like this personally, but he would still note it. It was another step toward my autonomy and another reason for him to tighten his control. We were playing a game we had both agreed to.
Back in the biochemical lab, I sized up the night ahead of me. The recipe was already thrumming in my head. Most of the work would go into its refinement and deep modification.
The Extremis recipe in my head was only a starting point. I didn't want a stable Extremis. I wanted an Absolute Extremis. I wanted a peak super-soldier serum that this world had not yet seen. This was not a mere enhancement. This was a new baseline for being.
Without it, I remained vulnerable. With it, I would be less so. Bullets would no longer be an issue. I might not reach a true Omega level, and that was before accounting for my tech superiority. But I would be stepping into a new class.
The first step was deconstruction. I decrypted the genetic and proteomic data from the samples I had. I had the Lizard serum and Blade's blood. I needed to isolate what was useful in them and cut away the biological detritus. Peter had already done a massive amount of work with Connors's legacy, so I could focus on the dhampir.
I started with Blade's blood.
A couple of milliliters of the dark liquid went into the liquid chromatograph. The machine separated thousands of protein fractions. Tandem mass spectrometry followed. Protein by protein, I weighed and decoded the amino acid sequences. It was as if I were reading an ancient, encrypted manuscript.
The screen filled with data. I compared it to a normal human proteome and began sifting through it. My first filter removed anything purely vampiric. I stripped out the enzymes for blood metabolism and thirst. I eliminated the proteins that made silver and sunlight agonizing. The mystical aspect remained, but Blade's lineage had rooted it in his physiology over millennia, and it had become biology. Eric's blood was a unique, stable symbiosis. A resurrected half-vampire's blood would likely overload my instruments with metaphysical noise. But I had a different goal.
The remaining unique proteins, Blade's 'gold reserve,' were subjected to the cryo-electron microscope's cold beam. Their three-dimensional structures unfolded on the screen. They were diabolically beautiful. I ran simulations for hours, feeding these proteins into virtual models of muscle and nerve cells to watch their effects. That's where I found it.
I discovered a cluster of enzymes and structural proteins distinct from vampirism. One protein boosted ATP synthase efficiency in muscles. Another amplified neurotransmitters at the synapses, enabling inhuman reflexes. A third set sharpened sensory receptors.
They could be synthesized. Their production could be activated in human cells through genetic engineering. This was the first critical component of my Perfect Extremis.
I was disappointed by the mental abilities. I ran them through every filter. They were naked mysticism, with no measurable psionics to copy. At least I had the raw materials. Now I needed an architecture.
With Peter's Lizard work and my Blade analysis, I moved to integrative design. Normally, I would hand this off to a neural net and let it crunch combinations for weeks. Under the NZT, I was a walking neural net. I didn't search for combinations. I saw the optimal solutions and built them.
From the Lizard, I took the essentials. I extracted the gene clusters for super-dense collagen, bone matrix reinforcement, and controlled muscle hypertrophy. For regeneration, Peter had isolated genes that could trigger human-template restoration at reptilian speed. He had also trimmed away the morphogenesis genes. That was enough for now; the Extremis itself could stabilize unstable genes. If something got out of hand, the carbyne nanobot swarm would devour the excess cells.
From Blade, I took the explosive myosin variants for muscle kinetics and the proteins that sharpened hearing and photoreceptors. I rejected the Lizard's sensory package to preserve my humanity instead of bestiality.
Then came the testing.
I bioprinted some organoids. They were miniature muscle and nerve tissues grown from my own cells. At the gene-editing station, I began infecting them with the isolated genes. Each time, I asked the same questions. Did it produce the required effect? Were there any side mutations? Was this muscle trying to grow scales?
Only after clean validation did a gene or protein graduate to the Library of Improvements.
This was not a database. This was a bible. It was the Genetic Gospel, according to John Thompson. For the genes, it contained exact nucleotide sequences and delivery vectors. For the proteins, it contained three-dimensional structures and synthesis instructions. The directions were refined down to the atom for programming the carrier virus.
Next, there was the carrier.
An archaeal strain matured in the bioreactor. I isolated its thermostability genes. In a chemical synthesizer, I recreated the Inhibin-7. This was the protein behind the original Extremis's fatal instability. I did not remove it. I reprogrammed it into a controlling agent. I stripped the Extremis of its original payload and kept only its genome-integration magic. The bomb became a controlled syringe.
Then there were the Ghost Orchid alkaloids. I synthesized all of them, including the Phantasmin. But I did more than that. I embedded the genes for their synthesis into the virus's genome. This meant that my Extremis would produce its own stabilizer inside the body. It was a built-in fail-safe in case the Lizard genes rebelled.
Finally, there was the apotheosis.
Using CRISPR, I loaded the Library into the modified viral vector. There was the Lizard's durability. There was Blade's speed. There was the archaea's thermostability.
And there was one more touch. I added a nanobot interface into the viral code. The instructions would create protein receptors on the modified cells. They would be docking points and communication channels for permanent tech-bio integration.
The purification followed. It was more than twelve hours of precise work. There were filtrations, centrifuges, and chromatographic columns. Finally, I held a sterile vial containing a high-concentration dose in my hand.
I tested it on my bio-printed organoids. I needed a hundred percent compatibility. Under the microscope, the cells accepted the virus. They stabilized. And they began to express the new proteins. The victory was clear, even before the tests finished.
[Virus "Perfect Extremis (personal)" created. Complexity: High. Received +1200 OP!]
A personally modified viral vector. It integrates thermostability genes (Archaea), physical enhancement (Lizard), and super-efficiency (Dhampir). It is stabilized by the Ghost Orchid and equipped with a nano-control interface. It is adapted exclusively to the genome of the bearer, John Thompson.
It wasn't a "unique" technology, as I had expected, but the System had labeled it "Perfect." That pleased me. This was my first "High" complexity creation.
There was one last problem remaining: energy.
The virus and restructuring would require an astronomical amount of calories. During the first twenty-four hours, my metabolism would surge so rapidly that normal food would be useless. My body could trigger catastrophic self-cannibalism. The solution was a high-concentration biogel with a caloric density in the millions.
Creating high-octane fuel was easy once I had rewritten the rules of biology. The composition included proteins enzymatically broken down into amino acids, complex polysaccharides for steady release, MCT oils for direct cellular nutrition, and massive electrolyte loads. The kicker, however, was a stabilized Reishi emulsion. This was spiritual energy bound to fat molecules.
One portion of the gel contained almost three million kilocalories. I synthesized several dozen portions.
[Supplement "Nutrient Gel (Super-Concentration)" created. Complexity: Normal. Received +200 OP!]
A bioactive gel containing ~3 million kilocalories in 500 ml. Absorbed instantly. Enriched with a spiritual emulsion (Reishi) to support metaphysical changes.
...
[Supplement "Nutrient Gel (Super-Concentration)" created. Complexity: Normal. The daily cap for creating this item has been reached!]
I received an additional +680 OP. No time to waste.
Everything was ready.
I stood in the sterile lab. Every second of waiting was a risk. I inhaled. I exhaled.
I moved fast. With my left hand, I drove the injector into my abdomen. With my right hand, I pressed the carbyne mother against the base of my skull.
The injector clicked. A cold virus flooded into my abdominal cavity. Simultaneously, I activated the Iron Blood. The skin at my neck accepted the mother. It slid in with a disgusting, unnatural feeling as the spindle advanced toward my spine.
A double pain struck me. A burning heat surged from my abdomen, like liquid fire. A sharp agony cut through my neck, where the foreign object pushed toward my spinal cord.
Then, there was contact.
An electric discharge pierced me, from the base of my skull all the way down to my tailbone. My vision blacked out for a second, and white noise flooded my head as the mother's neurointerface docked.
The virus began.
It felt like the worst flu multiplied by a thousand. My body flared up. A heat like boiling blood surged through me. Then a savage chill seized my muscles. Tremors and spasms scrambled my limbs as the virus rewrote them. My brain drowned in pain signals and internal diagnostics.
While I could still move, I grabbed a gel portion. The minutes mattered. The changes were exponential. Without the fuel, the virus would consume me. It would consume my glycogen, then my fat, and then my muscle, all at catastrophic speed.
Millions of calories would kill an ordinary person, but the Extremis had shifted my metabolism into overdrive. The first viscous gulp was like gasoline on a bonfire. The heat intensified, but the energy returned.
Seventeen hours blurred into fever and nightmare. There was heat, then chills, then I was on the lab floor, mechanically downing the gel. The sweet, cloying taste mixed with the taste of metal as trillions of microscopic workers rebuilt me from the inside. The nanobots replicated and took up their posts in my bloodstream.
I was broken, and I was rebuilt. I grew. My bones compacted, and my muscles swelled into dry, defined, predatory power. In a reflective cabinet, someone else stared back at me. It was John Thompson, but he had been carved from stone. My features had sharpened. My skin had cleared. A depth had appeared in my eyes. By feel alone, I was over 120 kilograms of pure, functional muscle.
Then it stopped, abruptly. The heat faded. The tremors ended. The itch quieted down.
The evolution was complete.
I tested the upgrades.
I went to the robotics hangar on the fifth floor. I cleared some space and flexed. My joints cracked like gunshots.
The strength exceeded my expectations. The benches and calibration weights felt like feathers. I hoisted a monolithic steel test plate. It weighed at least seven tons. I shouldered it and stood. The metal creaked, but I felt no strain. I never did find its limit. For now, I was ballparking it at twenty-five to fifty tons. This was no longer peak human strength. Captain America would seem childlike in comparison. My muscles were efficient at the cellular level.
The speed and reflexes followed. My sprint hit 152 kilometers per hour. The world blurred, but I navigated it. I programmed a turret and stepped aside as it fired. My reaction time was now measured in microseconds, not milliseconds.
The endurance looked promising. I could maintain peak activity for twenty-four to forty-eight hours before the shadow of fatigue even began to fall on me. The super-efficient metabolism and instant toxin removal had turned me into a near-perpetual engine.
The durability had increased dramatically. My compacted bones and muscles could withstand impacts that would bend steel. My skin had become like light Kevlar. A scalpel skidded right off my forearm. The regeneration, however, was the crown jewel. I slashed my palm, and the wound closed in under a second. I simulated a fracture, and it knitted back together in under a minute. Restoring a limb might take half an hour to a couple of hours. It was controlled and scarless. My regeneration now rivaled Deadpool's healing factor, but my greater durability reduced the kinds of damage that would even require regrowth.
I was now much harder to kill.
There was another bonus: biological immortality. The constant, controlled cell renewal the Orchid had stabilized had halted my aging. My immune system had become an impenetrable defense, destroying pathogens and cancer cells the instant they formed.
But I was not invulnerable. Massive damage exceeding my regeneration speed, such as complete vaporization, would still kill me. Soul-level metaphysical attacks also remained a vulnerability.
I tested my thermogenesis.
For passive tests, I used a cryogenic chamber at -200 degrees Celsius and a furnace at 800 degrees Celsius. The temperature became information rather than a threat. For active thermogenesis, I produced a localized plasma star at my fingertip. The nanobots in my hand vibrated coherently, creating an electromagnetic lens that stripped electrons from air atoms. The result was a stable ball of superheated plasma at roughly 10,000 degrees Celsius. The carbyne nanobots acted as an indestructible lens.
It was the ultimate weapon, capable of vaporizing almost anything.
The energy demands had decreased somewhat due to metabolic efficiency. My basal needs probably hovered between 3,000 and 5,000 kilocalories. But at peak load, I became a metabolic black hole. The gel was not only food but ammunition.
I went to the lobby on the first floor and looked out at Saturday morning, October 10. The world outside was the same. I was not.
I allowed myself a predatory smile.
The Extremis, the nanobots, and the conceptual enchantment had made me a fortress. The telepaths no longer terrified me. My brain was shielded by the swarm, and a sovereign, protected mind could strike before an opponent could even blink.
The foundation had been laid. The construction would come next. I would wait until Peter had gained his power and Frank had satisfied his thirst for revenge and taken up his post. Then I would expand into influence. Personal power comes first. The influence follows.
Later, I opened the System and checked my OP. I had 2,310 OP. I bought a *Ritualist-Optimizer* for 100 OP and set the rest aside.
I'd made a decision. First, I would take a spin.
---------------------------
1. Harry Potter: Satan? Nah, Just My Family Crest = CHAPTER 183
2.Marvel: Cosmic Forger of Infinity = CHAPTER 118
3.Harry Potter: Beyond Good and Evil in the Wizarding World = CHAPTER 175
4.Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black = CHAPTER 45
support me on Patreon for instant access to the 60+ advance chapters: patreon.com/redofic"