Chapter 181: The Blooming of a Poison Ivy

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"Your days are numbered, Edalyn." 

- Lilith Clawthorne (The Owl House)

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<(Omniscient POV)>

"Mr. Wayne was right—your research is groundbreaking, Dr. Isley. This new Rose strain that we have developed by combining the unique genetic sample of the Desert Rose Mr. Wayne provided along with those exceptional xenobots of his, could completely reshape the healthcare industry. And not just healthcare—this could revolutionize agriculture, chemistry, and even energy production. I mean, what other plant exists that can store energy in its flowers like a battery?" 

A young intern, barely containing her excitement, let out a nervous chuckle as she gazed at the freshly bloomed plant. Its petals pulsing with vibrant colors, glowing like neon lights rather than anything that is found in nature.

"You're right, Lucie. This is a monumental breakthrough," Pamela said with a soft chuckle, her fingers tracing the smooth glass of the containment unit that held what was undoubtedly the most important work of her life. "I'd say we've just created the most beautiful rose the world has ever seen."

"Of course, we're far from finished. There's still plenty to do—monitoring its growth, testing for vulnerabilities to its immune system, and most important of all, neutralizing those strange toxins stored in its thorns... But if everything goes as planned, we should be able to present this to Mr. Wayne by next month. Just imagine his reaction when he finds out this flower's nectar alone could cure every disease ever known to mankind." She boasted as she checked the plant's vitals on her Wayne iPad. 

"Neutralize the toxin? But wouldn't that be a waste?" the intern protested, her eyes darting toward the small cage in the corner of the lab. Inside, the remains of some unfortunate creature were still breaking down, dissolving into a viscous, bloodied goo—its body seemingly consumed by something far more corrosive than any acid known to science. "Maybe we could use it in defense applications or even modify it into a pesticide. I mean, with how potent and... complex it is, there's got to be a way to utilize its full potential instead of just getting rid of it."

"No. It's too dangerous." Pamela's voice was firm, her gaze darkening. "This isn't an ordinary toxin. It doesn't behave like any poison, venom, or chemical agent I've ever encountered. No... It's almost viral—like something actively trying to convert ordinary biological organisms into... something else." She exhaled, glancing at the cage.

"The rat, the toad, the guinea pig—every test subject suffered the same fate. At first, the toxin didn't kill them. It attempted to alter their cells, to rewrite their biology into something new. But somewhere in the process, it failed. And when it did..." Her expression hardened. "Their bodies simply collapsed into pure biomatter. Nothing left but decay. I don't want my greatest research to be made into some sort of biological weapon, and I am sure Mr. Wayne would agree with me too." She stated as a matter of fact. 

"I see. Well, I guess you win some, you lose some. But this flaw doesn't take anything away from our research. If anything, today's still a milestone worth celebrating. How about going to the Iceberg Lounge? Drinks are on me." Lucie offered, flipping through the last few pages of her research notes, ready to finally call it a night.

"Not tonight. I've got some more tests to run." Pamela smirked, not looking up from her work. "But you should go and celebrate—you've done your part for today. Besides, interns aren't allowed in the Conclave after six, and honestly?" She gestured toward the engagement ring glinting on Lucie's finger. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your fiancé." 

"Oh, you caught that? Guess there's no hiding it from you." Lucie grinned, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I got engaged last week. We grew up together—childhood friends, college sweethearts. He's a little clueless sometimes, but he's got the big heart that makes up for it." She shook her head, smirking. "Anyway, since you insist on working late—like every other night—I'm heading out first. But don't worry, I'll have an extra drink for you to make up for it."

Chuckling, she moved to complete the lab's sterilization protocols before leaving.

Once the decontamination process was done, Lucie slipped into her regular clothes, bid her mentor/friend a final goodnight through the lab's voice transmitter, and entered her passcode to unlock the door—just as she did every day.

But unlike every other day, a man was waiting for her behind her door this time.

He stood just outside the lab, hands in his pockets, a calm smile on his face—as if he had been expecting her. She didn't recognize him, and a question was already forming on her lips when he spoke first.

"Hey there, darling. Sorry about this— it's nothing personal."

There was a soft snap and a sharp sting in her chest.

Lucie gasped, looking down, her mind still confused. She could see blood slowly pooling on her clothes from the wound where she had just been... shot?

"Wh-who...?" The words barely made it past her lips before her body gave out, collapsing like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

"Like I said—nothing personal." Dressed head to toe in black—the man who Bruce would easily be able to recognize as the infamous assassin David Cain, having once trained the billionaire in the arts of assassination—barely spared a glance at the body as he stepped into the lab.

"Gotta hand it to the kid though, he takes his company's security seriously," Cain muttered with a shrug, scanning the dimly lit space. "Took me damn near a whole day to get in. I don't think I've ever seen this many security cameras in one place." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Good thing the Court had a mole on the inside. Otherwise, I would've had to do this loud and force my way in." His eyes flicked towards a nearby workstation as his voice dropped into a low grumble. "However, if the intel on those so-called… xenobots or whatever they're calling them turns out to be wrong, I swear, I'll put a bullet in that informant myself." 

As David moved deeper into the lab, he conveniently ignored every sanitation and safety protocol the researchers had ever made for the lab. With each slow but deliberate step, his sharp eyes scanned the facility's inner workings like a hawk searching for its prey.

Eventually, he reached the restricted section of the lab, which was lined with thick, reinforced containers—each housing rare biological samples, projects worth millions of dollars, each with the potential to revolutionize what humans knew about biology. Strange, vibrant plants and herbs could be seen pulsing under the artificial lighting, their properties likely far beyond anything normally found in nature. But he wasn't interested in any of them, no matter how amazing they looked. What he was interested in was what he was tasked to bring back by the Court of Owls to keep his end of their deal.

And then he finally saw her, the person he was briefed about by the insider, the one in charge of this particular lab in the Conclave. If anyone knew where those special xenobots were, it would undoubtedly be her.

Meanwhile, Dr. Pamela Isley stood among the specimens, completely absorbed in her work, oblivious to the imminent threat standing behind her just a few feet away.

"Hey, Doc. Hate to interrupt, but mind pointing me toward the latest batch of xenobots Bruce Wayne recently sent over? You know, the most advanced ones—the kind with those fancy healing abilities? Ring any bells?" Cain's voice cut through the silence, making Pamela stiffen. But before she could react, he kept going. "Relax. Do what I say, and I won't have to hurt you. Hell, if I'm in a good mood, I might even let you—"

He never got to finish. In a blur, Pamela yanked a small canister from her pocket and sprayed something straight at him.

"…That didn't feel like pepper spray. Let me guess—poison? Or maybe some kind of fast-acting anesthetic?" Cain raised a brow, his tone more curious than concerned.

"Pheromones," Pamela answered smoothly, a confident smile forming on her lips. "Perfect for dealing with Gotham's human garbage… like you." She was certain the threat had passed. Her artificial pheromones had never failed her before.

"Sorry to break your bubble, sweetheart, but being exposed to various forms of chemical warfare over the years, including countless airborne mind-altering substances not much different than these pheromones of yours, has resulted in my body adapting to most of that stuff... or at least their symptoms." He released a light cough. "Furthermore, I have learned to suppress my involuntary responses to external stimuli through years of meditation, breathing techniques, and psychological conditioning. I am a master of my mind and emotions. No pheromone can possibly affect me." He shrugged with a cocky expression on his face before his eyes landed on the glowing plant in the container near them. "A rose with lights? Well, that's a first."

"I'm never giving you what you want, understood?" Pamela's voice was sharp, unwavering. "In fact, you should be more worried about getting out of here alive instead of trying to steal Wayne Enterprises' property. Your little break-in must have tripped the security system—this place will be crawling with guards any minute now."

"Hmm, you are partly correct. I actually have got about seven minutes before anyone realizes something's off." There was a hint of amusement in Cain's calm tone. "But you're right—I'm on a clock. And from what I can tell, no number of threats will get you to hand over those xenobots, and I don't exactly have time for some old-fashioned torture." He lamented as his sharp eyes studied her, reading every flicker of emotion on her face, every subtle shift in her expressions. Then, he finally saw it, a small and subtle worried glance she threw in the direction of the glowing plant. Ordinary untrained human eyes would fail to even register this, but Davin Cain was far from ordinary.

His gaze snapped to the plant as a slow, victorious smile spread across his face.

"That's it, isn't it? That's what you care about more than your own life? A plant?" Cain scoffed; his tone laced with mockery. "Fine. Let's try this again." His eyes remained locked on her as he spoke. "Give me the upgraded xenobots your division received for your advanced research and in return—" With a swift, deliberate motion, he drove his elbow into the glass containment unit, shattering it instantly. "I won't burn this thing to the ground... You have ten seconds to decide."

"You piece of shit!" Pamela hissed through clenched teeth, rage and helplessness twisting inside her. The man had figured it out. He had realized her weakness; he had the upper hand now.

The new rose plant she had developed wasn't just another plant. It was her greatest creation, the most valuable thing in this lab—maybe even more valuable than her life. She couldn't let him destroy it. The xenobots were obviously important to Wayne Enterprises, but they were nothing compared to what this plant could do for the company. She was quite sure that Bruce would see it the same way as well.

So, after weighing her options, Pamela exhaled sharply before finally making her decision. "The freezer behind you. That's where the rest of the xenobot samples are."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Cain moved without hesitation, popping open the freezer. Inside, he found two small, sealed test tubes, which he swiftly placed inside a compact box he was carrying before slipping it into his pocket. "Now, as I was saying before you sprayed me with your chemicals—since you cooperated, I won't torture you."

Pamela let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"I'll just give you a quick death."

Her eyes widened in horror.

*Pfft. Pop* A muffled shot rang out, and a quick flash was visible for a fraction of a second near the man's hand. Pamela herself barely had time to register the movement before a strange warmth suddenly began to spread throughout her stomach.

It was then she realized that she had been shot.

"I aimed for your upper right abdomen—your liver," Cain said evenly, watching her stagger. "You'll feel warmth, maybe some numbness, but not too much pain. You won't go as fast as your younger coworker—I hit her abdominal aorta. But since you wasted my time, you will have to make do with this."

His gaze shifted toward the plant.

"Oh, and sorry—but I can't let this thing exist. If it's that important to Wayne Enterprises, the Court won't let me hear the end of it unless I take care of it." With a single motion, Cain yanked the rose sapling from its container. He was careful not to touch the thorns. Common sense dictated that getting pricked by the thorns of a glowing, genetically engineered plant was probably a bad idea.

Then, with no hesitation, he hurled it onto the floor. The impact sent shattered petals scattering across the lab. However, for good measure, he stomped down hard—again and again—until nothing remained but a crushed mess.

Then without sparing another glance at the bleeding scientist, he turned and walked toward the exit to set up a strange device near the wall of the entrance. "Let's see, 4 minutes should be enough." He muttered as he set a timer on what was obviously some sort of explosive device before calmly walking out.

"No… I'm sorry… Bruce… Lucie… I failed you..., all of you." Pamela's trembling voice broke the looming silence that had befallen the lab after David Cain had left. Tearful sobs escaped her lips as she powerlessly lay sprawled across the cold lab floor, her blood pooling beneath her, staining the remains of the destroyed rose.

She could feel it—her body growing weaker, colder. She had already lost too much blood. Survival was impossible now. But it wasn't the pain or even the inevitability of death that crushed her the most. It was the regret. The utter regret she felt for this night, for her powerlessness, for the cruelty of a world that had taken everything from her—and left her to die alone.

Even in her final moments, the weight of it all made letting go unbearable.

"I hate this… I don't want to die." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she forced her trembling limbs to move, making one last attempt to drag herself toward the first aid kit. But deep down, she knew that it was futile.

She was going to die here. It was a fact. No surgeon, no miracle could change that. The wound was too severe. The blood loss was too great.

But in her final struggle, something unexpected happened.

A sharp sting pricked her fingertips.

Weakly, she glanced down—her fingers had pressed against a shattered thorn from the ruined rose. A tiny, jagged remnant of her life's work… buried in her skin.

'And there goes my last few seconds of peace.' She mentally chuckled at her own fate as she readied herself to be turned into a pile of decomposed biomatter.

As the thorn's toxin seeped into her bloodstream, Pamela braced herself for the agony of cellular decay—for the same gruesome fate that had claimed every other test subject. But contrary to her expectations, the pain never came. Instead, a strange warmth spread through her veins, pulsing in rhythm with her weakening heartbeat. Her vision blurred and her body convulsed, but instead of failing, she felt something deeper—something rewriting her physiology from the inside out.

Her ragged breaths turned shallow as her skin prickled, the color shifting, deepening into something richer, more vibrant. Her wounds, the ones that should have been fatal, began to close at an unnatural pace, tissue knitting itself back together as if the injury was never there in the first place. The blood pooling beneath her no longer smelled of iron—no, it carried the faintest hint of chlorophyll, earthy and alive. Her fingers twitched, the sensation foreign, almost electric, as her nails darkened, hardening into something sharp, almost like thorns.

Pamela gasped, trying her best to get up as vines—no, veins—pulsed beneath her skin, glowing faintly with a bioluminescent green, the same color that the leaves of her bio-engineered rose plant glowed with. The toxin not only didn't kill her, but it was also changing her, making her... better, stronger. It was reconstructing her at a cellular level, sculpting her into something beyond human, beyond plant—something in between. Something new, something more.

*BOOM!*

A muffled explosion rocked the entire facility, sending shockwaves through the Conclave. The once-sterile underground botany research lab was reduced to nothing but scorched rubble, smoke curling toward the ceiling as fire alarms blared in futility. In mere moments, everything inside the lab was obliterated, leaving nothing but charred ashen remains in its wake.

Or so it seemed because about half an hour later, when trained responders finally breached the remains of the lab, drones sweeping through the smoldering wreckage, they expected only ruin. They searched for survivors, for remnants of research, for anything salvageable—only to stumble upon something unexplainable.

At the very center of the destruction lay a charred, half-cracked sphere of twisted branches and vines, gnarled and blackened. The thing was roughly the size of a human and was proudly sitting amid the wreckage, looking as if it had shielded something—or someone—within itself.

Nature, it seemed, had found a way to survive.

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(A/N: Well, things just took a dark turn, didn't they?)

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