"Eureka!"

It was barely a whisper. Dr. Ted Sallis could hardly manage more than that, for what he was seeing beneath his microscope had quite literally taken his breath away. He shuffled through his notes, cross-checking them against his results.

"Okay, Ted," he said to himself. He often did this to calm himself after a particularly infuriating or surprisingly successful experiment. "Run it again, just like before."

In his dimly lit lab, with precision rivaled only by surgeons and bomb techs, Ted measured out another small amount of liquid extracted from the root of a rare plant he'd found near a Seminole Reservation. He added a few drops to a chemical solution before putting the concoction into the centrifuge. The wait was unbearable, but he forced himself to be patient, combing back through his handwritten notes.

When the process was finished, he again took a sample and placed it under the microscope. There was no mistaking it. After all the time he'd spent, cooped up in little more than a shack in the Everglades, theorizing and testing hypothesis after fruitless hypothesis, he'd been vindicated. The formula would work.

"Ellen!" he called. "Ellen, you have to see this!"

Ted's wife hurried into the tiny, makeshift laboratory. Ellen Brandt, Ted thought, was every bit as beautiful as the day they'd met, ten years earlier. Ellen, on the other hand, no longer felt beautiful. While finishing a tour in Afghanistan two years ago, her convoy had been hit by an IED. She'd been lucky in the long run, losing only her left arm. Other members of her platoon had suffered far worse, some of them suffering permanent nerve damage, others being killed. She'd been honorably discharged and sent back to the States. Their relationship was never quite the same. They weren't close to each other anymore, and they both suspected the reason they stayed together was only out of hope that Ted's experiments might one day restore the balance the war had taken from them.

"What is it, Ted?" she shouted, her voice containing a hint of panic, as if Ted were in danger. "Are you alright?" She responded this way often, but Ted couldn't hold that against her. She'd been through a lot during the past few years.

"I'm fine," he replied, rushing to her. "I'm better than fine! Ellen," and here his voice again dropped to a whisper, almost as if, were he to say it too loudly, it might cease to be true, "I've done it."

Ellen paused, taking in the information with a deep breath. He'd had near-successes before, and she didn't want to get her hopes up. But she'd never seen him this sure.

"You've done it?" she asked. Now her voice was hardly audible. She trembled, certain she would weep with joy.

"I haven't tested it yet," Ted admitted. "But in theory, this compound works. It's stable! I've got to get Dr. Connors on the phone, he'll be ecstatic to hear-"

The sound of a china cup clinking onto a saucer in the next room gave Ted pause and, somewhat embarrassed by his zealous outburst, he suddenly found himself struggling to regain composure. "Do we have company?" he asked.

Ellen had honestly almost forgotten about the guest in the other part of the house. "Oh, yes," she said, glancing back through the doorway.

"Who is it?"

"He's-" she paused for a brief moment. She knew Ted would be unhappy about this, especially in light of achieving success. "He's a businessman-"

"No-" Ted cut her off. Ellen pressed on.

"I know you said you didn't want to-"

"Ellen, why on Earth would you-"

"Just talk to him, that's all I'm asking!" Now she was shouting.

And now Ted was shouting. "You know I'm not in this for the money, Ellen!"

"Ted, this has never been about the money!" Ellen barked. She was sure she'd explained her point of view to him before. "You're doing this only for me, to help me with my disability, but you could be helping so many others!"

"This is something extremely powerful we're dealing with," Ted said, exasperated. "There are only a few other people in the world I would trust to even talk to about this! My formula has the potential to revolutionize modern medicine. But in the wrong hands, it could be dangerous. I don't want that on my conscience."

A voice now came from the next room. "Eloquently put, Dr. Sallis."

Ted and Ellen immediately stopped arguing. They'd known their guest could almost certainly hear their fight, but both were now utterly embarrassed to have confirmation. Giving Ellen a hard glare, Ted stalked past her through the doorway and into the living room.

As he entered, their guest, setting down the teacup he'd been holding, stood to greet him. This took considerable effort for him, and he leaned against his cane to brace himself.

Extending his hand and smiling, he announced, "Good evening, Dr. Sallis. My name is Aldrich Killian, head of Advanced Idea Mechanics. Maybe you've heard of us?"

"Can't say I have," Ted answered, unmoved.

"We're a privately funded think tank," Killian explained, "working on a project called Extremis. It's being helmed by Dr. Maya Hansen, that name should probably sound familiar."

"A fellow biochemist," Ted stated. "We did some work together years ago."

"It was actually Dr. Hansen that insisted I get in touch with you," said Killian. "Extremis is a drug which, once we've ironed out its kinks, will open up countless doors in the world of pharmaceuticals. It could be used to re-grow lost limbs or correct birth defects." He gestured to his own frail leg. "I'm sure you can see why that might be of interest to me."

Ted understood now why Ellen had brought this man to see him. If this Extremis could help her, of course she would jump at it. She surely had grown weary of waiting on Ted to fulfill a pipe dream.

"Dr. Hansen told me about the research you've been conducting here," Killian continued. "And I want to utilize it."

Ted shot a look to Ellen. He was hurt she hadn't trusted him to help her, and more hurt that she'd gone behind his back to this Killian character. Ellen's gaze shifted toward the floor. She didn't want to make eye contact with him anymore than he did with her. The months they'd spent holed up in the Everglades hadn't been easy on their relationship. And this seemed to both of them to be the final nail in their coffin.

"My work is not for sale," said Ted simply.

"I respect that, Dr. Sallis," Killian said. "I really do." His tone was more urgent now. He could tell he was losing. "But think of the possibilities that-"

"I'm aware of them," Ted cut him off. "Now I'd like you to please leave." He turned back to Ellen. "Both of you."

Ted took a step toward the lab, but stopped short when he heard the distinct sound of a bullet being chambered. Ellen let out a short gasp. Peering slowly back around, Ted saw a man at the end of his rope desperately trying to regain control of a situation that was quickly getting away from him.

"I haven't had a breakthrough in months, Dr. Sallis," Killian hissed. "Give me your research notes."

"Killian!" Ellen shouted. "This is not what I agreed to!"

"I haven't forgotten our agreement, Miss Brandt," Killian snapped. "But desperate times, you know?"

Ted let out a breath. He'd never had a gun pointed at him before, but he had a rudimentary knowledge in the physics associated with them, enough to know this wouldn't end well unless he acted carefully.

"Okay," Ted said quietly, slowly raising his hands to show he wasn't resisting. He took a few cautious steps backward toward the lab, with Killian following. He stole a nervous glance at Ellen. "I want a divorce," he whispered.

When he had cleared the doorway, as quickly as he could, he slammed the door behind him and locked it, sealing himself away from Ellen and Killian. Killian charged, as best he could, but couldn't create enough force to break in the door.

"Dammit, Sallis!" yelled Killian. "Open this goddamned door!" He turned to Ellen. "Can't you break this down?"

"It's specifically designed to quarantine the lab from the rest of the house," Ellen explained, frustrated. "It's got to be unlocked from the inside."

Inside his lab, Ted hurried to a supply cabinet and removed several bottles of flammable liquids. It wasn't much, but he guessed it would be enough to take care of most of his research. Pouring out the contents of the bottles, he felt a pang of despair. Even if his marriage was in shambles because of it, he'd still completed good work, and it almost seemed a waste to destroy it. A pounding on the door jarred him back from his thoughts.

"Ted!" screamed Ellen. "Please open the door!"

Ted looked back to his research: piles of notebooks, numerous vials containing numerous failed attempts. He'd memorized all of it anyway; it had to burn. He snatched up the vial containing the only stable solution of his work before turning the gas on a Bunsen burner and lighting it with a match.

The lab started to catch fire. The door handle became hot to Killian's touch.

"He's set the lab on fire," Ellen said, suddenly breathless.

"Is he insane?" Killian shouted.

Glass shattered from inside the lab, which caused Ellen to piece it together. "He's going out the back window," she announced, and hurried out the front door, with Killian hobbling close behind.

Outside, Ted ran around the side of the building to his car. He fumbled his keys before jamming them into the lock and wrenching open the door. By the time the engine had turned over and he'd thrown the car into gear, Ellen and Killian had burst out the front door. He sped onto the dirt road that led away from the house, swerving to keep control at high speed.

Out of breath and out of options, he pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts, desperate to find anyone who might be able to help him. His eyes lingered on the screen a second too long, and he didn't have time to react to the bend in the road before his car careened over the embankment and crashed into a tree. The force of impact tensed the muscles in his hand, which caused the vial to shatter. The chemical inside splashed onto Ted's skin, and it burned.

Ted clambered out of the wrecked vehicle and tried to keep going on foot. The chemical on his skin burned, and he looked for any kind of plant that might contain a salve. His research was now gone entirely. All that remained was currently irritating his skin and, Ted thought, possibly poisoning him as well. Maybe the formula wasn't ready after all. Maybe…

Ted dropped to his knees. His mind became fuzzy and his vision blurry. A ringing had started in his ears. His face hit the swamp's cold, wet surface before he realized he was falling.

And just before everything went dark, he noticed, everything went green.