The image on the control room's main screen vanished.
When it reappeared, Jordan was already inside the control room.
Face-to-face distance.
Dr. Genus's breath caught in his throat. The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing against his chest like he'd been submerged underwater. His lungs burned.
The figure that had materialized from nowhere radiated something beyond mere physical presence. An indescribable weight that made Dr. Genus's body lock up, muscles frozen as if coated in drying cement.
He recognized this feeling. Years of biological research had taught him to identify the physiological markers: this was an organism's instinctive reaction to a natural predator.
He'd only felt this primal fear once before—standing in front of the reinforced containment chamber deep in the facility's lowest level, staring at his greatest and most dangerous creation.
Carnage Kabuto.
His mind reeled. This man possessed the same predatory aura as the House of Evolution's ultimate biological weapon?
Sweat beaded on Dr. Genus's forehead. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed involuntarily.
Spatial teleportation. The intruder had simply bypassed every trap, every defensive measure, every biological countermeasure he'd spent decades designing.
All that ingenious engineering. Worthless.
Around him, the clones scattered—some diving for weapon lockers, others sprinting toward the nearest bio-weapon release stations. At least they had the sense to act while he stood frozen.
Dr. Genus forced himself to breathe. Steady. Buy time. Let the security protocols engage.
He adjusted his glasses with fingers that only trembled slightly.
"Mr. 'Super Cop,'" he said, aiming for professional detachment. "What brings you to my research institute uninvited?"
"Professional heroes may have certain enforcement authorities, but this is entirely private property."
Jordan glanced around the control room—technology that rivaled Vought's setup, he noted—and smiled.
"You're well-informed about legal boundaries, Doctor. I appreciate that."
He gestured casually. "But don't worry. I'm not here to settle scores."
Dr. Genus blinked.
"On the contrary," Jordan continued, "I'm here to discuss a partnership."
Dr. Genus's mind went blank.
Partnership?
He'd already run through a dozen scenarios the moment this S-Class hero materialized in his base. Most of them ended with violence. Several ended with the original Dr. Genus dead on the floor while his clones continued the research.
Not once had he considered cooperation.
An S-Class hero wanted to partner with him? With someone who conducted unauthorized human experiments, who participated in underground organ trafficking to acquire samples—
This had to be a delaying tactic.
Yes. That made sense. The hero was buying time for reinforcements. Other S-Class operatives converging on the facility's location, preparing to—
"Alright, that's enough of the paranoid thriller plotting."
Jordan raised one hand.
"No need to write yourself into a conspiracy novel, Doctor. I came alone."
Dr. Genus's expression shifted. "What—mind reading?"
He realized it immediately. Telepathy.
His thoughts raced. Can't think about countermeasures directly. Need to use coded signals. Alert the clones through—
"Hey," Jordan said flatly. "I said that's enough."
The slightest circulation of energy. Just a trace leaking from Jordan's control.
The laboratory floor cracked.
Not splintered—cracked, like the hardened alloy had transformed into brittle tofu. Fractures spider-webbed from Jordan's position, racing up the walls, spreading across the ceiling.
Electronic screens flickered. The entire underground facility shuddered.
A localized earthquake from nothing more than ambient energy leakage.
Dr. Genus stared at the destruction with his mouth hanging open.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
No human could generate that kind of power output. Not even close.
His mind cataloged the implications automatically: compared to this casual display, the incomplete Carnage Kabuto project—the apex predator that terrified even its creator—suddenly looked like a house pet.
"Stop! Stop right now!!"
Panic overrode analysis. Fifty years of research sat directly above tons of cracking stone. If this man decided to continue—
"Cooperation!" Dr. Genus waved both hands frantically, sweat running freely now. "Yes! Whatever cooperation you're proposing—I'm interested! Very interested!"
"Well, that's a refreshingly quick decision," Jordan said, sounding genuinely surprised.
The invisible fist that had been crushing the facility... relaxed.
Psychic power flooded outward like a stabilizing tide. The shaking stopped instantly. The cracked floor ceased spreading. Even the mountain range surrounding the base seemed to settle, held in place by an invisible hand.
Jordan glanced toward the control room door with knowing eyes.
"Since we're already mobilizing your prized biological weapons," he said conversationally, "why don't we test them? Give you some empirical data."
His smile turned sharp. "You still seem unconvinced, Doctor."
Dr. Genus's panic flickered across his features before professional instinct took over.
"That's... absolutely unnecessary—"
"I'm willing to cooperate with combat experiments," Jordan interrupted, already walking toward the exit. "Let you record all the data you want. But only if you bring out your strongest work."
He paused at the doorway, looking back.
"As your potential partner, it's reasonable for me to verify your research credentials, wouldn't you say?"
Dr. Genus pushed up his glasses helplessly. "I... suppose that's logical."
"Perfect. Then let's go." Jordan's tone remained pleasant. "Remember—strongest biological weapon. Don't insult either of us by holding back."
He noticed everything, Dr. Genus realized with mounting dread. Every thought, every tactical consideration, every contingency plan I barely formed—he intercepted them all.
The Mind Network ability wasn't just overpowered. It was absolutely terrifying from an operational standpoint.
The clones clustered near the control room door scrambled aside as Jordan approached, their faces pale, bodies trembling. None met his eyes.
Jordan's footsteps echoed down the corridor.
The moment he disappeared from the camera feeds, the control room erupted.
"Are we seriously supposed to wake up... that thing?"
"Maybe try the finished combat models first? The ones designed to eliminate baseline humanity?"
"You saw what just happened!" Another clone gestured at the cracked floor. "The elite forces won't even slow him down!"
"But if we release Carnage Kabuto—"
"—the Doctor might not survive being in the same room!"
The clones looked at each other.
None of them wanted to be the one to make that call.
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