Days later, Lucas is in the cafeteria, standing in line with a metal tray as other inmates get their meals. He looks around the cafeteria, surveying his surroundings; a smart move considering his new home. In the distance, he spots Tim and Tom Stuart whispering to each other. He pretends he doesn't see them as he gets his meal. Slowly, they begin to approach from two different angles. Lucas takes his food and begins to leave the line as he attempts to keep them both in his line of vision without it being obvious.

Tim stands off to the side and shouts, "Hey, Lucas!". Lucas immediately diverts his attention away from him and toward Tom who sneaks in quickly, pulling something from his pocket. Lucas only catches the briefest glimpse of the homemade shiv between his thumb and forefinger before he takes a swing with his metal tray, clocking Tom in the mouth hard enough to knock him down. Tim flies at Lucas, slamming him against a table, the prisoners quickly getting out of their seats. While on the floor, Tom checks his mouth, noticing a tooth has been knocked out. Meanwhile, the guards rush onto the scene along with Rackham. Lucas punches Tim and shoves him away just before the guards restrain everyone and pick Tom off the floor. "Can't stay out of trouble, can ya Luke?," Rackham asks. "It's Lucas," he says as the guards pull him out of the cafeteria.

Ryker's Island...

A pair of hands grasp a pull-up bar, a familiar dagger tattoo on the right one. Willis Stryker does a few chin-ups as he excercises in the prison's gym. Another inmate approaches.

"Hey, Stryker."

Stryker drops from the bar and turns to him.

"They found Carl Lucas at Seagate."

"Yeah?"

"He's still alive."

Stryker shakes his head, "Damn."

Empire State University...

The campus architecture, like most modern universities, pays tribute to gothic cathedrals and medieval castles despite functionality and the time period. Dr. Noah Burstein, a middle aged man with glasses and gray hair, addresses a lecture hall filled with grad-students. A lab table sits in front of him with several pieces of equipment and a large screen behind him. On the screen, is a blueprint design of a nanobot: a mite-like machanical robot with multiple legs.

"While accessible nanotechnology is still years away. We have just begun to learn its full capability. If current theories hold, we are looking at complete molecular reassembly; the ability to reform matter to an unknown degree. Recently, we have crafted a single nanobot the size of a dust particle," Burstein flips a switch on his microscope, shinning a light on a slide. The screen displays the image of one of these mechanical devices, projected for the entire class to see. The gold-colored machine twitches under the slide as the students marvel at its design. "That's our little metal mite," Bustein says affectionatly, "With one, single nanobot, we were able to reposition the cell cluster of a house plant. Imagine what could be accomplished with millions of them," the screen depicts cancer slides, "If this technology were applied to medical science, we could see an end to cancer and a number of other illnesses," the diagrams change to human diagrams depicting cancer eradication, "These devices could be inserted into a person and completely rewrite their genetic code, eradicating defects and illness, replacing weak cells with stronger ones." Noah turns to the rest of the class, "You would be looking at the perfect human being... or possibly something beyond."

A student raises his hand, "How far along are we until we can safely use human studies?"

"Due to the current budget, several years, unfortunately."

Another student asks, "What are the potential hazards?"

"Well, if something were to go wrong, there could be a variety of affects. Anything from melting into a puddle of goo... to solidifying into a metallic state, unable to move. Or possibly just getting impenetrable skin. As you can see, these are good reasons why we're not too quick to use live test subjects."

As the class is dismissed, Burstein gathers his things. A man in a suit approaches. This man is tall, large, and a few years younger than Burstein. This is John McIver, a Carribean businessman.

"Dr. Noah Burstein?," he asks with a somewhat thick accent.

"Yes?"

"My name is John McIver," he extends his hand, "I'm the head of McIver International."

"Oh, yes. Your people contacted me a few weeks ago. Apparently you're looking to sponsor my research."

"Yes. I know you've declined our offer so I thought I would come here in person to discuss the matter with you."

"Mr. McIver, I'm sorry but I'm not interested in working for a manufacturing company."

"We are looking to expand our business to include medical technology, though. I've personally read up on your research and I believe it is the future of medicine."

"It is," Burstein starts toward the door while awkwardly carrying his things, "But I receive a great deal of funding from the university already."

"How much?"

"They give me what they can."

"Tell me, doctor. If you received proper funding, how soon would you be able to have this technology ready for human study?"

"I'd say about five years."

"I can give it to you. The money will go only to your research. You won't even have to stop teaching if you don't want to. Would you be interested?"

"Do you have that kind of money to spare?"

"Yes. We consider your work to be very valuable and are willing to pour fudning into the project. Whatever the cost."

"It may be a lot."

"You can still say no and I promise, no more visits. If you say yes, however, we can talk prices and I can probably come up with a suitable allowance."

"Wow... So let's talk prices."