Chapter 3: The Birth of a Superhero
"Hhhhha—!"
The second the chamber unsealed, a deep, guttural gasp thundered through the room. White mist hissed out in all directions as the reinforced pod split open.
Kyle surged forward, eyes locked on the scene, fists clenched tight.
"Did it work…?"
This was everything. If Valen didn't survive the implantation, Kyle's entire plan would collapse. The real project—the long game—could only begin once someone survived the Type-7 Crystal and lived to tell about it.
Only then could Kyle unleash the blueprint that had been simmering in his head for years.
Power. Control. Legacy.
As it stood, he was still a vulnerable teen at the mercy of corporate wolves in the boardroom. Many of Vought's shareholders were just waiting for him to trip.
But now?
Now everything was about to change.
"That feeling… It's familiar. But—stronger. So much stronger."
Valen's voice was low and heavy, like a war drum. And in that moment, the lab erupted into restrained chaos.
Kyle's jaw unclenched, a grin slowly breaking across his face.
It worked.
Valen had made it through.
Even if the crystal hadn't awakened any special abilities, just the boost in raw physical performance alone made the old soldier a walking weapon.
"Oh my God—Subject 087, you made it…"
The lab director practically burst into the chamber, gawking at Valen's transformed physique. He hovered around him like a scientist at a miracle site, overwhelmed with admiration and envy.
He knew what this meant: evolution. Real, tangible superhuman evolution. He also knew he was now officially tied to Kyle Vought for life. He'd detected the kill-switch Kyle had embedded in his body—he'd even tried running diagnostics through a magnetic resonance scanner.
And then he'd stopped trying.
There was no escape clause. Betrayal meant instant death. And worse, his family wouldn't be spared.
So, the director made peace with it. Now, he'd earn his way to a crystal of his own—by staying useful.
Kyle was already calculating.
Finally, with Valen enhanced, he could start trimming the fat.
The corporate vultures circling him—the "uncles" who wore designer suits and smiled through gritted teeth—wouldn't know what hit them.
They had private security. Bodyguards. Layers of defence.
But none of them had this.
"Valen. How do you feel?"
Kyle stepped into the chamber as the biometric locks disengaged. Valen turned toward him.
What Kyle saw left him stunned.
Gone were the signs of age. The white hair had darkened to jet black. Scars, once etched into his skin like battle honours, had vanished. His physique had bulked up, muscles full and defined—like a super-soldier sculpted from steel.
"I feel incredible, sir," Valen said with a smirk, standing at ease, completely naked, unfazed. "Feels like I could punch through a tank."
He snapped into a crisp military salute. His pectorals flexed in unison.
Kyle stepped forward, placed his hand on Valen's bicep, and squeezed it.
Hard as iron.
"Ryan, run the diagnostics. I want to see just how powerful he is."
The lab director—Ryan—nodded and quickly led Valen away for evaluation.
Kyle, satisfied, returned to his top-floor office.
There, he pulled open a drawer and retrieved a folder—the list.
Seven names.
Seven shareholders.
Men who had been leeching off the company for years. Wasting money. Abusing power. Plotting against Kyle from day one.
His father had left him 53% of Vought stock—just enough for control, but not enough to silence the snakes.
Not yet.
"These fossils lost their spark decades ago," Kyle muttered, eyes scanning the names. "Time to put them out to pasture."
If they'd kept their heads down, maybe he would've bought them out. Maybe. But they made their choice.
The others—those who stayed neutral—would be dealt with more civilly. Their shares would be reclaimed through buyouts and legal channels.
But these seven?
They were done.
"If I take back their shares, that puts me at 75% control. Full authority. No more interference."
With that, he could leave Vought on autopilot—let it continue its pharmaceutical projects—while he focused on the future: a biotech empire designed to create superhumans.
A true power base.
Knock knock.
A rap on the door snapped him back.
Kyle slid the folder back under a stack of reports. "Come in."
Ryan entered with two files.
"Boss, here's Subject 087's performance data. And the lab's latest expense sheet."
The equipment was basic, but they'd managed to gather enough for a first analysis.
Kyle skimmed the report.
"Strength and speed?"
He raised an eyebrow, interest piqued.
"7500 pounds of pressure on the dynamometer. 100-meter dash in 3.7 seconds," Ryan said, barely concealing his awe. "Even at sustained pace, it's world-shattering."
Kyle smiled, golden eyes glinting.
That was more than enough to take on any black-ops soldier, even a S.H.I.E.L.D. field agent. And Valen had just begun.
"More tests will follow," Ryan continued. "Bone density, bloodwork, reaction time…"
Then he hesitated.
"There's more, Boss. Valen… developed an ability."
Kyle's chair creaked as he shot upright. "An ability? What kind?"
"Something we're calling bullet time. Perception manipulation. He says the world slows down when he activates it."
Kyle's eyes widened. This was huge.
"Confirmed? Duration? Side effects?"
"Fully confirmed. He can sustain it for about five minutes with full energy reserves. It burns through his stamina fast, so he'll need recovery time afterwards."
Kyle was practically buzzing with energy.
Bullet time.
He could dodge bullets. See punches coming before they were thrown. If this power stabilised, even a powered opponent like Captain America would be at a serious disadvantage.
"Perfect…"
He pulled out the folder again and handed it to Ryan.
"Tell Valen he's got his first assignment tonight. These seven? I want them gone. Make it look like accidents."
Ryan nodded. "Understood."
(End of Chapter)
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