[Location: New York – Susan Storm's Private Lab]
[Time: 11:41 AM – One Week Later]
The low hum of lab equipment filled the room. Screens cast a light blue glow over walls cluttered with sketches, samples, and half-drained coffee mugs. Susan Storm stood in the center of it all, sleeves rolled up, hands gloved, eyes focused.
She adjusted the microscope, leaned in, and frowned. Another trial, another flawed reaction. The serum hadn't stabilized. Again.
She stepped back and dragged a holographic interface toward her. The genetic model rotated, showing her the familiar spiral of DNA, the mutant strain she'd been working with for months now. Mutated at the chromosomal level. Too volatile. Too embedded.
Susan pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then tapped a few keys, pulling up previous test results.
Trial 139: Organ rejection.
Trial 140: Neural degradation.
Trial 141: Partial success, then cellular collapse.
She clenched her jaw.
She wasn't trying to erase anyone. That was never the goal. She didn't see mutation as a disease. But the truth was, some people were suffering because of their powers... trapped in bodies that betrayed them, turned into walking targets, or left isolated by the way they looked.
They weren't soldiers or criminals. Just people. And not all of them wanted to be "special."
Mutant rights activists told them to embrace their identity. Xavier's camp preached harmony. Magneto wanted power.
But what about those who just wanted normal?
A boy whose bones wouldn't stop growing through his skin. A girl whose touch caused internal bleeding. A man whose voice ruptured eardrums if he so much as whispered.
No school could fix that. No speech could change how the world looked at them.
Susan brought up her primary project file: RECODE. The serum was still theoretically unstable, inconsistent, and dangerous in its current state. But it was getting there. Slowly.
She turned toward the sample freezer and pulled out a fresh vial. The latest formula. Slightly different protein binders. A tighter sequence control.
She walked back to the testing chamber, placed the vial in the analyzer, and initiated the simulation.
A digital readout scrolled quickly.
Then a spike... cell degradation.
Susan swore under her breath. She shut it down and leaned back against the desk, rubbing her temples.
She was close. Too close to give up now.
Outside, the faint sounds of New York filtered through the lab's walls. The usual traffic, sirens, the steady rhythm of a city that never slept. But in here, it was just her, a few AI assistants running basic routines, and the mounting weight of expectations.
No press. No funding. No corporate sponsors. Just one woman chasing a cure no one asked for, but that some desperately needed.
She stared at the screen again for a moment before she walked over to her whiteboard, still covered in scribbles from the night before, and added a single word:
She capped the marker, exhaled slowly, and was about to turn back to the simulation logs when her tablet chimed.
She tapped it without thinking, expecting another automated test update or a ping from Johnny asking for lunch money again. But the sender made her pause.
Subject: Lunch? And a little something important.
Her brow furrowed as she opened it.
Hope this finds you in one piece and not buried under caffeine and simulation failures.
I've followed your published work with interest, and I was especially impressed with your article on the genetic research on incurable diseases and super protein bars for athletics. Elegant stuff. You've got a sharp mind, and I think you're the kind of person who might appreciate a conversation about something a little bigger than lab work.
How about lunch? Somewhere quiet, no press, no buzz. Just food and a discussion, I think you'll want to hear.
If you're free, I'll send the coordinates.
Susan stared at the screen for a long moment, rereading it twice. There was nothing invasive in the tone. No arrogance, no assumption. Just curiosity. Respect, even.
And Stark himself, the man behind the holographic system now running the world's economy and academia, wanted to talk to her.
She let out a quiet breath and walked to her window, eyes flicking across the city skyline. She wasn't the type to get starstruck, but she wasn't stupid either. This was big. And it wasn't just about tech or science, it was about being seen by someone who actually understood what she was trying to do.
Most of the researchers made fun of her articles. She has no funding and is running on her father's money and a little bit of what she gets from the sales of the protein bars. Now, when someone actually praised her, well, she was definitely gonna meet him.
A smile tugged at the edge of her mouth.
She picked up her tablet and replied:
Count me in. Let me know where.
She hit send, then leaned back in her chair, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders for the first time in weeks.
Finally, a real conversation.
[Location: Manhattan – The Ember Atrium, Rooftop Restaurant]
The Ember Atrium, a rooftop restaurant tucked away above a boutique hotel in Lower Manhattan. It wasn't a place that showed up on tourist guides. No neon signs, no photos on walls. Just clean stone tables, soft instrumental jazz, and a view of the skyline that made the city feel quiet for once.
Tony sat at a table near the far corner, dressed in a dark blazer over a simple black t-shirt, sunglasses on the side of the table. He took the glass of apple fizz and took a sip before putting it back.
Susan stepped inside wearing a clean, fitted navy blazer over a black turtleneck and dark jeans. Her hair was tied in a simple bun, and she was wearing glasses. Simple. Smart. She scanned the space once, found him instantly.
Tony noticed that she was wearing makeup, and a nice scent of jasmine perfume came from her. And she was so beautiful that Tony's heart skipped a beat or two. Seeing her on photo and real life, well... Real life version wins.
Tony stood as she approached.
"Susan Storm," he said, offering his hand with a relaxed smile. "Or do you prefer Doctor?"
"Depends," she replied, shaking it. "Are you trying to flirt or hire me?"
Tony chuckled. "Neither. First meeting. I try not to make moves on people I might need to work with later. It's messy."
"Noted," she said, sliding into the chair across from him. She glanced at the folder on the table. "You brought homework."
"Light reading," he said. "Mostly yours. Some of it was buried so deep I thought I'd need a shovel. Impressive work."
'Dang! He is handsome,' Susan raised an eyebrow. "I thought only angry forum trolls and dusty tenure boards read those."
"I'm not dusty," Tony said, flagging down a server. "And I don't troll. Well, maybe recreationally."
The server poured water into their glasses and took their orders. Susan asked for a grilled salmon bowl, and Tony ordered whatever looked the least like rabbit food.
As the server disappeared, Tony leaned forward slightly.
"I'll get straight to it," he said. "I'm building something. Bigger. Space, biology, interface systems, genetics. Stuff that requires people who know how to walk into unknowns without falling apart."
Susan folded her arms. "You do realize I'm a one-person lab operation."
"I also realize that you built your entire protein-binder model off a junk budget and a box of borrowed servers from Empire State University. Which makes you exactly the kind of person I trust. Someone who doesn't need ten grant committees and a Tesla coil to get things done."
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "What are you working on?"
Tony opened his palm before her. The nanites flowed out from his wristwatch, forming a smart glass. Sue was taken by surprise.
"Nanomachine?!" She nearly raised her voice and was about to stand up, but quickly gathered herself.
Susan took and slipped on the smart glass slowly, uncertain at first, then froze.
Her pupils dilated slightly as the world around her shifted. The entire rooftop dissolved into a digital horizon. She was no longer sitting at a restaurant but standing in the middle of a vast hangar suspended in orbit over a virtual planet. Below her, steel beams rose like growing branches. Massive ship scaffolds, raw alloy plating, drones weaving support struts together like ants on a nest.
Lines of live data floated beside her... structural integrity charts, radiation mapping, nanite logistics, atmospheric pressure readings, all moving in real-time. A thin golden path traced itself along a long corridor of the structure marked: Starfire – Phase 1.
"What... is this?" she whispered.
Tony's voice echoed slightly inside the virtual space beside her, relaxed but focused.
"Starfire. The first manned, private deep-space vessel. It's being built right now. I made it to study cosmic radiation directly, close to the sources that shape evolution... black holes, supernovas, ambient stellar fields."
Another window opened beside her, a rotating strand of double-helix DNA overlaid with cosmic energy patterns. The coils shifted with each pass, changing color and shape, reacting as bursts of radiation interacted with them.
"I've already built detectors for high-band cosmic energy. The kind that warps atomic behavior. The stuff that doesn't just burn... it rewrites. And if it rewrites the right way..."
The screen shifted again. Three projections appeared. Each one showed a simulation:
In the first, a human cell disintegrated under raw gamma exposure.
In the second, a violent and unstable cellular mutation.
But in the third… the cell adapted. Regenerated. Enhanced neural activity. Stabilized molecular vibration. Even resistance to entropy over time.
"Cosmic evolution," Tony said. "Or at least, the potential for it."
Susan reached up slowly and rotated the helix with her hand. The system responded instantly, like touching real glass. She zoomed in, saw proteins bond under impossible pressure, then replicate.
"This is impossible," she muttered. "This shouldn't be happening. Even latent mutations can't absorb that kind of radiation without complete denaturation."
Tony nodded. "Exactly. That's where I need your brain. You are one of the best in the field of bio-chemical sciences... No. You are the best. Help me find a solution. Because we are going to space to study cosmic radiation, and anything can happen out there. I want us to be prepared for everything."
"Huh?! Wow! Wait a sec..." Sue took off the glasses. "Us?"
[Don't forget to 'favorite' the chapter]
If you like my work, you can support me on>: www.patr eon.com/XcaliburXc
[Read 15 advance chapters] + [Shazam: 10 chapters early access]