Chapter 88
I left the transformed storage closet, leaving Peter on the threshold of his new fate. I hoped everything would go well. For a couple of minutes, I just stood by the closed door, listening to the hum of energy inside, waiting. For what, exactly? I didn't know. A flash of light? A cry? A sign from above?
Nothing happened.
In the end, realizing that Peter's contact with the metaphysical entity, if it happened at all, would probably take far longer than I had imagined, I turned and headed to the lab. Peter wasn't a child. He would find me when he was done.
In the meantime, I could do some crafting. The last three days had been productive and important for the world, no question about it. But personally, I felt diminished. Vulnerable. The confrontation with Hydra, victorious though it was, and especially the display of Hyperion's power, had left a bitter aftertaste.
Interesting. What was this? The influence of the Creator's Spark, demanding constant creation? A sharp awareness of just how dangerous the world I was living in really was? Or simply raw nerves after meeting the local Superman?
It didn't matter. What mattered was that it was time to start building my magnum opus. The suit that would represent the peak of my current capabilities. Absolute Chimera. Adamantium and Vibranium. Upgraded and reinforced across every front. With conceptual enchantment.
Just picturing it made my mouth water involuntarily. That was wrong. It was supposed to happen at the sight of a beautiful girl, Gwen, for instance. Mine was triggered by technology.
"Damn System. Turned me into a technophile," I muttered to the empty room, stepping into my engineering sanctuary.
Activating the holographic CAD interface, I started sketching.
The suit. At this point, I could afford to approach its construction not only as an engineering problem, unavoidable as that was, but also as creating an image. My public persona. An avatar.
Colors. Yes, the color scheme was half the impression. What should my image be associated with? My methods against Hydra had been, to put it mildly, not entirely clean. Yes, Mental Worm, I mean you. I wanted to come across better. At least in my own eyes. I already felt like a dirty hypocrite. But.
Done. No more Mental Worms. Only against absolutely irredeemable bastards. Like the Hand. Though they were supposedly just shinobi. Or maybe not. Their head jonin, Gorgon, was an international terrorist. I would need to consult with Fury on that. Besides, it was time to stop freelancing and discuss these things with the team. Yes. I had a team now. Otherwise, I wasn't far from developing a God complex, and not the middle-schooler kind. The supervillain kind.
But back to the suit. Since I wanted to clean up my image, I would start with the colors. White. And gold. Yes. Ostentatious, vivid, and, strangely enough, noble. As they say, you are judged by first impressions. As for the lasting impression, I was still struggling with that side of things. I had opened up far too easily to Fury and company. Oh, well. I wanted to believe in the best but needed to prepare for the worst. That was, in fact, the core motivation behind Project Absolute Chimera.
Now, what were the Vibranium processing steps for the Protective Field Generator? I dug through my memory, fishing out that precious grain of knowledge obtained from the Arcanum.
A grain, specifically. Not full-scale processing of the wonder metal, just coating a grown crystal with Vibranium nanoparticles. But beggars cannot be choosers. Especially since I now had the equipment for experiments. Or rather, for one specific experiment: plasma ablation in a vacuum chamber, or in simpler terms, magnetron sputtering.
The method required research-grade equipment, which I now had. To carry it out, I needed to place a piece of Vibranium ore inside a vacuum chamber, then introduce an inert gas, argon, and apply enormous voltage to turn it into high-temperature plasma.
From there, it was straightforward: ions from the plasma began bombarding the Vibranium at tremendous speed. From those impacts, not chunks but individual atoms and atomic clusters broke free from the metal's surface: those precious nanoparticles. They traveled through the vacuum and settled on a substrate. In the case of the PFG, that substrate was a growing sapphire crystal. The nanoparticles literally embedded themselves into its lattice, creating a perfect composite.
For Wakanda, with their centuries of accumulated knowledge, this wouldn't even qualify as metalworking. It was barbaric atomization. Crude, almost uncontrolled, primitive. Like trying to understand how Michelangelo sculpted the statue of David by shooting it with a machine gun and studying the fragments. A method that destroyed the metal rather than teaching you how to shape it.
But I would get to their secrets. Sooner or later. I absolutely would.
For now, though, I wanted the suit done as quickly as possible. I needed to launch the corporate AI, release the Blink app, grow the company, move into the civilian sector, become a public figure. Solve problems for useful people and draw them to my side. There was no shortage of work. Full-scale Vibranium processing could wait a month or two. Especially since even as nanoparticles, it was an absolute game changer.
Why? Because Vibranium operates on the atomic level. It doesn't need bulk to work its energy-absorption magic. A single nanoparticle embedded in another material's crystal lattice is a microscopic, perfect shock absorber. Billions of such particles distributed evenly form the foundation for a perfect composite material: one that is simultaneously ultrahard, like that sapphire, rating nine out of ten on the Mohs hardness scale, nearly diamond, and capable of absorbing any vibration or impact, courtesy of the Vibranium itself.
And now, specifically about my situation: Adamantium.
The thing was, I'd been overlooking a combination that was, in essence, the ultimate power play. Stronger than Captain America's shield. Stronger than anything.
What if I embedded Vibranium nanoparticles not into sapphire for the PFG, but directly into Adamantium's own lattice, right during its brief liquefaction and subsequent hardening?
The result would not merely be a composite. It would be a perfect material. It would combine the absolute indestructibility of Adamantium, its unbreakable structure, with Vibranium's absolute energy absorption.
It would be a material that cannot be broken and cannot be moved by any external force, and this was no alloy requiring countless experiments to figure out.
Hulk's punch? There is no punch. All kinetic energy is instantly absorbed and dispersed by the Vibranium nanoparticles at the atomic level. The Adamantium structure guarantees the material doesn't even deform or take a scratch. A laser beam? Thermal energy absorbed. An explosion? Same thing.
This was a damn cheat code for all of physics.
Energized like never before, I quickly finalized the suit's base design in CAD and moved on to processing the Adamantium. I pulled every piece I had from inventory: 1.8 kg. Then I remembered exactly one month had passed since I'd received the ore crate. I checked inside and let out a disappointed sigh. A quick inventory turned up only one new piece of Adamantium, 0.7 kg. Disappointing. I'd thought deliveries would be consistent in volume for all ores, including the supremely rare ones, but this time the crate was packed mostly with useless junk.
Grudgingly, I opened the System's technology tab, spent 500 OP, and materialized another crate. Bingo: 2.1 kg of Adamantium.
Total: 4.6 kilograms. That should be enough for a full suit of armor. Possibly even a little left over.
After loading the ore into the hermetically sealed isostatic depolymerization chamber, I initiated the process. Under immense pressure, the chamber was flooded with a complex chemical cocktail, the formula straight from the S.H.I.E.L.D. manual. Viscous resins and polymers coated the metal while iron-based catalysts targeted the weak points in its nearly perfect, chaotic atomic lattice.
Simultaneously, the chamber was heated to exactly 1,800 degrees Celsius and was compressed to 1,000 atmospheres. The miracle occurred. The chemical cocktail activated. The reagents found the key to this unique geometry, and for a few precious seconds, neutralized Adamantium's molecular bonds.
For a few seconds, the hardest metal in the universe became a dense, silvery, perfectly pure liquid. Under pressure, this liquid was instantly injected into cryogenic ceramic molds, each one a precisely calibrated 3D model of the plates for my future suit.
The moment the liquid Adamantium filled the molds, the catalysts burned out. The cascade polymerization reversed. The molecules snapped back into place, returning to their perfect, absolutely unbreakable lattice.
The result was a set of perfectly shaped, smooth, invulnerable plates of pure Adamantium. Next came the coating and styling.
I transferred each Adamantium component into the vacuum chamber and began the multilayer magnetron sputtering process.
First came the base layer: Vibranium nanoparticles. Using ion implantation, I drove them into Adamantium's surface layer, forming an inseparable bond. This was the shock-absorption layer, designed to absorb 99.9% of any external impact. There was one catch: Vibranium absorbs light almost perfectly, rendering the component utterly black and matte. The mystery of the Black Panther suit was solved. That grim aesthetic wasn't for me.
So for the second layer, I applied structurally colored ceramic: zirconium dioxide for the brilliant white sections, and a suspension of colloidal gold in a transparent matrix for the gold accents.
The best part was that this wasn't merely paint that would peel after the first scratch. Under plasma, the Vibranium nanoparticles, ceramic, and gold sintered into a single, monolithic composite layer fused to the Adamantium surface. The Vibranium beneath kept absorbing kinetic energy, while the outer ceramic layer, itself incredibly hard, gave the suit the signature white and gold look I wanted.
Alright. The most critical element, the suit's foundation, was done. I'd handle the electronics later. Now I could craft a weapon too. Not a full arsenal, but at least an upgrade for my proven vibro-gauntlets. They could be made far more powerful. I would call them the Annihilation Gauntlets. Yes. Power that the Shocker couldn't dream of.
The foundation was the already-completed golden gauntlet from the suit, made of an Adamantium-Vibranium composite. Inside the forearm, I mounted reinforced cascading ultrasonic emitters built using improved-structure piezocrystals. Power source: the classic miniature palladium reactor, which would later be integrated inside the suit rather than mounted externally.
Now came the moment of triumph: an Adamantium mesh coated with Vibranium nanoparticles. I installed it between the emitters and the inner surface of the armor. Now, when the gauntlet fired, all the massive recoil would be instantly absorbed by this mesh.
Zero recoil. Finally. With this gauntlet, I could literally reduce any tank to dust without shifting by as much as a millimeter.
But that wasn't enough. Against threats like the Absorbing Man, raw power alone wasn't the answer. Something more was needed. Something fundamental. Conceptual enchantment.
Amplify the vibration with the concept of Annihilation. The name wasn't chosen lightly.
I took the finished gauntlet in my hand. I closed my eyes, sinking inward, focusing on crystallizing the concept: not merely destruction, but complete, absolute erasure, a return to zero.
At that moment, I sensed someone enter the lab. Without breaking focus, I completed the enchantment, pressing the metaphysical seal into the artifact's structure. Only then did I look up.
Gwen. She stood in the doorway, looking curiously at the golden gauntlet in my hand.
Glancing at the time on the nearest computer, I let out a low whistle. Twenty-seven hours had passed. Twenty-seven. And still no sign of Peter.
"Brrr." Gwen shivered, studying the gleaming white and gold frame of the suit on the assembly rack. "Something about it makes me uneasy just looking at it. It feels alive."
"It's not even half-finished," I said, carefully securing the first Annihilation Gauntlet into place.
The second one would carry a different concept. I hadn't decided which one yet. But right now I rubbed my temples. It was time to return to the real world. I had gotten carried away.
"Let's go check on Peter."
"What's wrong with him? And where is he?" Gwen asked as we walked to the elevator.
"Storage closet on the second floor. I turned it into an interview room for the Web of Destiny." Gwen nodded in understanding. "But it's been over a day, and there's been no word from him."
"That's strange," Gwen frowned, "and frightening."
Reaching the closet door, I paused. I focused on the sensory input from Extremis. Peter's heartbeat, weak but steady. He was inside, unconscious.
I opened the door without knocking. Just as I'd thought. The boy sat slumped against the wall, completely out, his head drooping. Pale skin. Dark circles under his eyes. He had held on. For a long time. But.
I activated Spiritual Sight and understood everything. Emptiness. No trace of contact. No spark of a Web entity. Nothing. It had all been for nothing.
"I don't feel anything," Gwen said carefully, peering over my shoulder. "No response at all. Am I even supposed to feel one?"
"Because there is nothing to feel," I answered with a heavy exhale. "Our plan failed."
I carefully lifted Peter into my arms. He was almost weightless to me. I carried him out of the closet to the nearest break room.
"What now?" Gwen asked as I gently laid Peter on the couch.
"What are the options?" I shrugged, sitting on the armrest of a chair. "Peter obviously can't sit still. Giving him power is the only viable option. The serum."
"But what about the Web? His status as a perfect vessel?"
"Well, as you can see," I started with a crooked smile, "we apparently overestimated Parker's value to the Multiverse. The Web isn't interested in him."
At that moment, a voice interrupted me. Calm. Cold. Dispassionate. And completely alien.
"Interested. Very much so."
He appeared from nowhere. Simply materialized in the center of the break room, between me and the couch where Peter lay. No flash, no sound. As though he had always been there.
Tall. Pale, almost porcelain. Unsettlingly elegant in a perfectly tailored dark suit of an old aristocratic cut. Dark hair, sculpted features, almost predatory. And his eyes. A deathly calm, unblinking gaze that seemed to look not at you, but at the empty space behind you.
Who? When? How?
In a hundredth of a second, a thousand questions exploded in my head. Was this the entity? Had it come? But why me? Why like this? Or was this something else entirely?
I glanced sideways at Gwen. And I went cold.
She had frozen. Her lips were pressed into a thin white line. Her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. A drop of sweat ran down her temple. And her body. It was trembling slightly, uncontrollably. This wasn't merely fear. This was primal terror. The terror of a young doe that suddenly faced an apex predator.
No. This was definitely not a benefactor from the Web. This was danger. Lethal danger.
In less than an instant, I was already beside him. Another fraction of a second, and my right hand, superheated to several thousand degrees by Extremis plasma, almost closed around his throat.
Almost.
The man made a deceptively casual gesture, subtle and unhurried, but my accelerated reflexes tracked it in slow motion. His cold fingers closed around my wrist. And then, CRACK.
Pain. Sharp, tearing. An Extremis-reinforced bone. Muscles threaded with carbyne nanobots. Snapped. Like a dry twig.
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING.
Reflex. Equipment: swap out the damaged Chimera for the old but still powerful vibro-gauntlet on my left hand. Charge.
But before I could activate it, that same casual, almost lazy gesture came again. His hand closed around the gauntlet, engulfing it completely. A squeeze.
CRUNCH.
The vibro-gauntlet, built on XCOM technology, was capable of demolishing buildings. It crumbled to dust. My hand was inside it.
In less than a second. Right hand broken. Left hand: rubble. The man: completely unharmed. And his expression. As deadly calm as when he appeared. I was not even an obstacle to him. Just an annoying fly.
Me. With all my upgrades. Extremis. Weapons capable of destroying most metahumans. Metaphysical skills. Knowledge from the future.
"D-don't. J-John. Stop," came a quiet, terrified, trembling whisper from behind me. It was Gwen's voice. "W-we. C-can't win."
"Clever girl," the thing answered. Its voice was melodious but utterly devoid of warmth. It was like the ringing of ice. "Listen to her, John. Listen, if you want to live."
Live? Fury drowned out the pain and the fear.
"Who the hell are you?" I snarled, feeling Extremis already frantically knitting bones and rebuilding tissue. My hands were regenerating visibly.
Tactics. Time. I needed time. One minute. Less.
"And what do you want?"
A Spirit Blade. Why hadn't I created one? A scalpel won't cut it here, I'm afraid. Idiot. Buy time. Plasma? Iron Blood? He has eyes. Ears. There must be weak points. Think, think, think.
"My name is Morlun," he said. "In case that means something to you."
The name ignited in my memory, supplemented by fragments of meta-knowledge. Morlun. First association: energy vampire. Second: the Inheritors. The puzzle clicked into place. This was one of the worst possible scenarios.
"As for my purpose..." Morlun slowly turned his head toward the couch where Peter lay unconscious. His deathly calm gaze was more eloquent than any words. He had come for him.
"Though, you know..." Morlun looked back at me, and something flickered in his eyes. Interest? He drew out his words in a slow, unctuous tone, as slick as a dead man's voice could manage. "The girl. Also looks appetizing. A genuine Spider Totem, after all. But, ah. I'm on a diet right now. I prefer not to overindulge. So, John. I offer you a choice. A simple one, really."
He paused, savoring the moment.
"Who. Do. I. Eat?"
Who do I eat?
The phrase struck like a bell against my temples, shattering what remained of my composure. The situation had just escalated from a simple catastrophe to catastrophe cubed.
A choice.
Hand Peter to Morlun? The boy who had trusted me. Who I could already call a friend. An ally. Who I had promised power and protection.
Or Gwen? My Gwen. The girl who had stood by my side against Fury. Who had supported me when I began to doubt myself. The girl I wanted to spend my life with.
Damn it. DAMN IT.
Whatever choice I made, I would be a monster. First and foremost to myself.
Flash.
My hands erupted in fire: plasma heated to the exact threshold where residual heat wouldn't kill Peter. Carbyne nanobot lenses instantly focused the energy into blinding beams. Iron Blood boiled in my veins, and my soul began forming invisible Spirit Blades inside my fists, a surprise for the bastard.
Thought gone. Only rage remained. Pure, primal rage.
Lunge. Faster than before. At the edge of Extremis's limits.
Strike.
I hit him. Square in the chest. The bastard didn't even have time to react. Or didn't want to.
Another strike. Right. Left. Again. And again. And again.
I struck with everything I had, every ounce of strength, all the rage, all the pain of this impossible choice. Dozens of blows that could level mountains. The wall behind Morlun began to melt from the residual energy of my strikes. Heat capable of vaporizing steel. Spirit Blades straining outward, trying to pierce through his defenses.
Only when my hands, bones, muscles, nanobots, even the Spirit Blades, had been reduced to bloody pulp up to the elbows did I understand.
He was simply playing with me.
Not a scratch on his dark suit. Not a shadow of surprise or pain on his pale face. Only a faint, barely perceptible curiosity.
Conceptual physical invulnerability? Or something even worse?
Morlun was beyond me.
And he underscored that point with a return strike. A light, almost lazy flick of his knuckles against my jaw. But the world exploded in pain. To keep me from flying halfway across New York, the vampire elegantly caught my shoulder with his free hand.
I experienced a perceptual glitch. The room swam. The taste in my mouth was blood and crumbling teeth, pure calcium.
I never even saw the next blow. I simply felt something hard, a fist or a knee, driving into my ribs with monstrous force. My internal organs ruptured, becoming a gurgling, bloody pulp.
All I managed was to vomit that pulp onto the floor, doubling over in agony as the ground dissolved beneath me. Consciousness flickered.
"N-no. LEAVE HIM."
Gwen's cry. Desperate, full of horror. Through the crimson haze I saw her throw herself at the monster.
"D-don't. You idiot. R-run," I rasped.
Too late.
Morlun didn't even turn. He simply extended one arm to the side, and Gwen, crashing into it, was seized by the throat. He lifted her into the air as easily as a kitten. Her legs dangled, not reaching the floor.
Her throat. Gwen's inhumanly resilient throat, reinforced by spider powers, capable of withstanding enormous stress. In that moment it looked like the most fragile thing in the world. One small movement. No. One desire from Morlun, and she would be gone.
"Once more, John." The bastard's voice was calm as he looked down at me, holding Gwen in his grip. "Peter. Or Gwen? Choose."
Why? Why was he doing this? What did he need from this performance? Why ask me, a bug he had just crushed, something like this?
He already knew. He had to know what choice I would make.
Even if that choice was wrong. Even if there was no right answer here. It would be honest. For me.
I would blame myself for it until the end of my days. I would wake up in cold sweats wondering if I could have done anything differently. I would become the very monster I feared becoming. But.
"Gwen," I rasped, looking up through the blood at the girl already choking in his grip. I chose to save her.
Forgive me, Peter.
The world froze. Gwen's struggling movements. The smirk on Morlun's face. Everything held still.
Then a voice spoke in my head again. A different one this time. Cheerful, slightly playful, young.
"Wrong choice."
I understood instantly. This had been a test. And I had failed it.
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