End of Phase 1

With the event finished, the next day came quickly. The sun had only just begun to rise over the horizon when Maxim, still in his disguise of Ivan Volkov, stepped outside of his sleek black sedan onto the asphalt road next to an incognito research facility.

He wore a sharp morning suit this time, charcoal grey with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. As he stepped out of the vehicle, he quickly spotted a group of other businessmen, all of whom held discussions with Darnell and seemed to of agreed to invest in his, very illegal but thought inducing research.

Maxim walked up to the group and greeted them, waiting patiently for Darnell to arrive whilst he himself scouted the surrounding area using the Mind Stone, immediately picking up on every bit of security in the surrounding area.

"Multiple autonomous drones patrolling. Lab entrance requiring dual authentication, Darnell plus the clinical director." Maxim thought to himself, also noting the dozens of guards littered inside the facility.

Soon enough, two more discreet black SUV pulled up behind him, and out stepped Darnell wearing his own black suit and white tie. Anya however, was nowhere to be seen, having been sent home by Maxim and Darnell would never realize.

"Thank you all for coming, I hope you're all ready to see the future. No more will we be forced to run an hide against super-powered beings. Now, we'll be able to fight back." Darnell said, and the various businessmen around him clapped excitedly.

With that, they approached the front door Darnell swiped his badge and the director followed suit. The doors hissed open. Maxim gave one more internal note to A.N.G.E.L, stream everything, record every file, monitor subjects' vitals.

A faint golden shimmer pulsed beneath his skin.

Inside, the hallways were brightly lit, clinical, white walls, glass partitions. Security cameras panned quietly. Maxim hovered next to Darnell, nodding politely. Darnell seemed confident, proud.

"Ivan, good to have you beside me," Darnell said, chest rising with pride. "Today we oversee the first Mammoth-class test on stable Extremis-subjects. Phase Two."

Maxim gave a faint smile, "Very exciting."

Darnell responded with a solemn nod, "Yes. We'll be pushing boundaries without public risk. With my backer protecting us, we won't have to worry about anyone picking their noses in our business."

Maxim held back a chuckle hearing that as he thought, 'I'm already deep in your business.'

They reached the observation deck, floor-to-ceiling glass revealing the inner chamber. Inside, men and women stood fitted into life-support rigs, tubes branching into their arms and necks.

Two technicians hovered, reading monitors. Most of the test subjects looked extremely pale, no doubt due to an intense amount of blood being drawn, and they also looked unsteady, bulging with nascent power.

Maxim felt a pang of cold, this was monstrous. He nudged the Mind Stone slightly, tuning into each subject's mind: fear, confusion, clinging to hope, mottled with drug haze.

Patterns of genetic alteration flickered beneath his perception.

The speaker, a gaunt, enthusiastic biotech lead, explained, "We've refined the Extremis-agent with a mutant-allele transgene. Enhanced musculoskeletal strength, rapid cellular regeneration. Phase One showed extreme aggression and startle effect. This batch, Subjects 12–16, exhibit controlled aggression, near stable cognition."

Darnell leaned forward. "Full suite?"

"Including bone density improved fivefold and cerebral integration over 40%," the lead confirmed excitedly, clapping his hands as he stared at the subjects, eager for their power to be his sooner or later.

Maxim's gut twisted; he wanted nothing more than to tear this lab down, and he would accomplish that soon.

The test began, drugs injected into a peripheral line; monitors spiked; muscles began flexing beyond natural angles. Subjects straightened, gasping.

One threw off the support rig, causing alarms to screech. The arrogant director looked pleased.

Maxim's green-eyed facade hardened. He took a slow breath. Time to act.

He subtly signaled A.N.G.E.L, "Stage One."

Down below, the support techs were already responding to alarms. Maxim stepped forward, and with one sweep of the Mind Stone, he tampered with the reinforcement gates. The clinical director blinked and stammered, "The doors, why aren't they,?"

The doors immediately slid shut, not allowing anyone in or out. The sirens echoed throughout the room, technicians moved to respond but before they could even touch the glass, the blinds dropped, lights flickered and the cameras glitched.

The security feed across the lab went dark and the operators were all left confused, before hurrying to action, worried about potential consequences on if this is a coordinated attack.

As for throughout the laboratory, Chaos rippled.

Maxim pressed a button at his lapel, a knockout gas pulse sealed the deck. Darnell's security staggered, unconscious.

He stepped forward, pressing his palm to the glass. Subjects screamed confusion and pain as the bio-agent surged. Maxim surged too, mind extending.

He reached into Darnell's psyche. He felt fear, ambition, twisted justification. With precision, he pried open Darnell's reasoning, "Yes, but—" The senator's grip on reality loosened.

Maxim's emerald eyes flared gold. He reached through the glass with telekinesis, cracking the barrier like fragile porcelain. It shattered inward, fragments slicing through the Director's throat. The senator leapt back, horror on his face.

Maxim moved in a calm telekinetic blur, plucking the Director's clipboard mid-fall, ripping it apart within his hand. The scribbled notes, genetic graphs, cost-benefit data, they burned in his palm, fracturing into dozens of serrated chips.

Subjects in the rigs froze as his presence hit them like a paradox of comfort and peril. Maxim opened the door with telekinetic power, the chamber door collapsed.

He strode in, boots swallowed by blood-spattered tile. He raised his arms, energy coiling. With a measured gesture, he released psionic pulses that enveloped the rigs' control panels, severed tubes.

Alarms screamed, machinery powered down mid-sentence.

One subject, 13, convulsed, but Maxim extended a thought, "You're safe."

Healing energy pulsed into the body, rapid regeneration glowed beneath the flesh. Eyes focused.

Another subject followed. They heard his voice. They obeyed. Hearts steadied.

At the center, Darnell staggered forward, disruptor gun or pistol in his hand, indecisive. Maxim focused.

With a faint whisper shimmering in the air, he seized the weapon telekinetically, spun it high, crushed it. Darnell screamed, lunged, and Maxim tore the gunmetal apart with his mind, bending it like paper.

The senator collapsed to his knees, pleading, "Please, I was only following protocol, Ross said—-"

Maxim let him sputter. Then crushed his throat with focused density distortion, the bones did not break, they liquefied, asphyxiating him instantly. No blood, just a hush. Maxim offered no mercy.

Instantly, he turned to the subjects. "We leave now."

He swept his hand, and a shimmering teleporter aura coalesced around each subject, five survivors who once were test subjects. Their eyes followed him, silent gratitude and shock.

Maxim strode through the fallen bodies, down the hallways, past the inert techs and soldiers. The doors remained sealed open as he passed. At last, he reached the loading bay just beyond the lab.

Each subject floated through the portal. As they vanished into the escape to Madripoor, Maxim closed the gate. Then he turned to the bodies: scientists, guards, security.

He shifted focus and activated a scan on the building: evidence of biochemical labs, shipping manifests, drone nests. Everything needed.

Then: "A.N.G.E.L—self-destruct." With his thought the building glowed red on the monitor. Seconds later, deep charges activated. An explosion roared. Maxim slipped outside, watching as the sun rose behind the mushrooming cloud.

He did not linger. Without a sound, he teleported once more—home to Madripoor.

Back at his penthouse, he collapsed into a rear console chair, sipping a quiet cup of espresso prepared moments earlier.

The lab's destruction echoed across the world in encrypted A.N.G.E.L messages. News channels suspected an accident at a government facility.

No correlation to Darnell. Darnell's "death" declared as "investigation pending."

Maxim placed a data chip on the console. "Send all monitoring to Madripoor." He exhaled. The stolen survivors, five now, would be taken in at the Mutant Estate and would be rehabilitated.

"End of Phase One." He muttered.

And he poured another espresso.