"Argh! Why?!"
A steel table crashed against the concrete wall, its tallic screech echoing through the sterile laboratory. Dr. Aniston’s chest heaved as he stared at the wreckage, his dark eyes blazing with fury.
The scientists scattered like roaches, pressing themselves against the far walls due to their lead scientist’s sudden outburst. Only the n in black suits remained close, raising their hands and gesturing for the doctor to stop.
"Doctor, please—"
"Don’t!" Dr. Aniston whirled on them, spit flying from his lips. "Don’t you dare tell to calm down!"
His gaze snapped to the wall of monitors displaying vital signs and all other weird data. There was even one there that accurately displayed Bjorn’s transformation as they happened. But only one held his attention—the ECG monitor in the center. The green line stretched flat across the black screen, accompanied by that damning, continuous tone.
Flatlined.
"Wake up!" Dr. Aniston scread at the monitor, his voice cracking. "Wake up, you stupid bastard! You’re supposed to be indestructible! Why aren’t you regenerating, you stupid fucking gorilla?!"
Dr. Aniston grabbed a chair and hurled it at the nearest workstation, almost hitting the other doctors as the glass shattered, and the keyboards exploded into fragnts... but the Indian doctor wasn’t done wreaking havoc.
"My formula was perfect!" He swept an entire shelf of equipnt to the floor. "Everything. Right down to the most minute detail should’ve been correct! I’m not the one who’s wrong! It’s all of you! It’s your twenty years of research! Twenty years of useless fucking research! You cut the specin over and over again and didn’t even get the right data!"
A scientist cowered behind a desk. "Sir, perhaps if we review the—"
"Incompetent!" Dr. Aniston kicked over another table. "All of you! Useless, incompetent fools!"
He spun toward the suits, his lab coat flailing around as he waved at them to go away. "Get out there! Retrieve Bjorn’s body! I need to see what went wrong!"
The one who seed to be the leader of the team shook his head. "Impossible, Doctor. IBAA forces are already en route to the location."
"So what?!" Dr. Aniston’s voice pitched higher. "We’re both governnt! What’s the problem?"
The suits exchanged glances but said nothing.
"Answer !" Dr. Aniston grabbed a beaker and smashed it against the wall. "Why is that a problem?! Aren’t we governnt, too?! We’re literally under the President’s pocket! We are, right?!"
Silence. The suits didn’t answer at all.
"Ah! Your mothers are randi!"He cursed in three languages, his hands shaking as he swept more equipnt to the floor. The rage burned through him like acid, consuming rational thought... if he had one in the first place, that is.
Minutes passed. His breathing gradually slowed. The fury settled into cold determination.
"Fine." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I will get Patient Zero myself."
Dr. Aniston turned toward the exit, but one of the suits stepped forward, extending a phone.
"Doctor."
Dr. Aniston stared at the device, confused. "What is this?"
He was about to reprimand the man, but as soon as he heard the voice speaking through the speaker, his face imdiately went pale. He gulped, his hands trembling as he accepted the phone and imdiately turned off the speaker, carefully pressing it onto his ear.
"H-hello?"
He wasn’t the only one nervous; the remaining scientists who were frozen fled the room like their lives depended on it.
Dr. Aniston bit his lip, nodding frantically at the voice only he could hear.
"Yes, sir. I understand. I’m sorry. I’ll do better."
Dr. Aniston winced. "No, sir. I don’t need help. I can handle—"
Dr. Aniston’s shoulders sagged. He closed his eyes, his pride crumbling.
"Okay. I... I need help. Please."
The conversation ended abruptly. Dr. Aniston stared at the phone for a mont, then hurled it against the wall. It exploded into fragnts.
"I am one of the best geneticists in the world!" His voice cracked. "And they treat like so... so intern!"
He kicked at the debris scattered across the floor.
"It’s all because of Patient Zero. Once I have him..." Dr. Aniston’s eyes glead with renewed purpose. "Once I have him, I’ll be renowned throughout the entire world. I’ll be known as the one who saved everyone. The one... the one who took humanity to our next evolution."
He straightened his lab coat and walked toward the door, stepping over the wreckage of his tantrum.
"Patient Zero will be mine."
***
"Hoss, I just want you to know that this is the most deaning position I have been put in."
Chip’s voice carried a note of wounded dignity as he spoke from his... undignified position. He was being carried by Adam using the fireman’s lift maneuver.
Adam’s neck and shoulder pressed into his stomach as they moved through the Montana wilderness at breakneck speed. Each bound covered thirty feet easily, Adam’s legs launching them over fallen logs and rocky outcroppings like they weighed nothing.
"I’m a decorated... military pilot," Chip continued, his voice bouncing with each impact. "I’ve flown combat missions in three different theaters. And here I am, draped over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Hoss."
The landscape blurred past them. Pine trees whipped by in green streaks. Adam’s breathing remained steady despite carrying a man who stood at least a foot taller than him.
Chip sighed, watching the forest canopy rush beneath them. "I could probably enjoy this view if I wasn’t hanging upside down, Hoss."
Adam leaped over a small ravine, landing with barely a sound on the far side.
"Listen," Chip said, his voice dropping. "Don’t tell anyone about this, alright? I’ve got a reputation to maintain. You promise, right, Hoss?"
Adam shook his head. And if he were any more emotionally adept, he would be chuckling right now.
"I won’t," he said.
"Thanks." Chip shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, I can’t keep up with you on foot. I used to be able to run across mountains until I took a bullet to the knee."
"Chip. It’s alright. You’re only making it more awkward when you keep ntioning it."
"...Maybe you’re right, Hoss." Chip chuckled. "Also, I just thought about it just now—I won’t actually be able to keep up with you even if my knees were fine."
They bounded over another ridge, Adam’s pace never faltering.
"Can I ask you sothing?" Chip said. "Why do you need a motorcycle? From what I’m seeing here, you’re faster than most vehicles. Hell, why do all of you in the RLRD have vehicles when you can just leap from building to building?"
"I don’t know why the others have cars. But the reason I have a motorcycle is..." Adam’s response ca without hesitation. "Because motorcycles are cool."
"Well... you had one, Hoss."
"...Right."
Chip felt the sudden tension in Adam’s muscles. He... probably shouldn’t have said that last part. He quickly wanted to change the topic and glanced at his handheld navigator, the screen bouncing wildly with their movent.
"According to this, the Do should be just over that hill ahead. I think since we’re already in this position, Hoss. I think I can finally ask why we’re even—"
Chip opened his mouth to ask what Adam was really planning once they reached the Do, but Adam suddenly accelerated.
Chip wanted to scream, but bit it back. He wasn’t about to let Adam think he was weak.
They crested the hill in three massive leaps, and Adam finally stopped as they reached the summit.
"That..." Adam’s eyes widened as he stared down into the valley below.
The Do rose from the earth like a massive black pearl, its surface rippling with energy. From inside the Gas, it felt cramped, suffocating... small. You were always running, always fighting, always dying. But from out here, the sheer scale was overwhelming. It stretched for miles in every direction, a perfect hemisphere that seed to bend reality around its edges.
"A cage," Adam whispered.
"Hoss. There." Chip pointed toward a cluster of white tents and vehicles arranged in neat rows near the west side. "IBAA research station. Different departnt from ours."
"Research? That’s... perfect."
Adam nodded, then began leaping down the hillside in controlled bounds. Suffice it to say, Chip could no longer hold himself and scread.
And very soon, they reached the station... and were imdiately t by a dozen soldiers and their weapons. But when they spotted Chip’s pilot uniform and the RLRD emblem on Adam’s suit, they lowered their guns and approached.
"Where did you co from?" A sergeant stepped forward. "And why are you here?"
The research team erged from their tents, drawn by the commotion. Before they could even ask anything, however, their eyes widened as they quickly recognized Adam.
"It’s Adam the Endless," one of them breathed.
Adam set Chip down gently and let him talk to the soldiers. He looked around at first, then walked directly toward the researchers. His gaze was fixed on the bank of monitors and equipnt they’d set up.
"What... are these for?" he asked.
A woman in a lab coat stepped forward. "It’s... for monitoring the Do’s activity. Energy fluctuations, stability, ground activity, and... other stuff."
"How?"
She launched into an explanation about quantum resonance and dinsional barriers, but Adam’s expression remained blank. He couldn’t understand any of those.
"...of course, most of these are theories and—"
"If there was a drastic change..." Adam interrupted, "...would you know?"
"Of course. But all the Dos are remarkably consistent. The only fluctuations we see are when crystals get destroyed inside."
"Hmm." Adam cracked his knuckles. "Has anyone tried destroying the Dos before?"
"Yes." Another researcher nodded eagerly. "Multiple attempts. Conventional explosives do nothing. Russia considered a nuclear approach, but the potential consequences were—"
"Wait, why are you asking?" the woman said, studying Adam’s face.
"I was just wondering if..." Adam flexed his fingers.
"...anyone has tried punching it?"
"Huuh...?"
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