Edited: 01/17/16

Chapter 2 - A Change of Plans

"Since changes are going on anyway, the great thing is to learn enough about them so that we will be able to lay hold of them and turn them in the direction of our desires. Conditions and events are neither to be fled from nor passively acquiesced to; they are to be utilized and directed." –John Dewey

The only sound in the airtight chamber of steel and glass was the soft hum of monitors, and the deeper thrum of computers forever processing endless streams of data. Banks of high definition screens threw an eerie glow on the polished adamantium walls. Fiber optics traveled the length and breadth of the massive underground structure like fine threads of spider silk capturing bits of data instead of flies and routing them to the chamber. Not a sound or image escaped the attention of the rail-thin man who sat still and perfectly erect on his ergonomic throne.

Angular glasses flashed when a pale, long-fingered hand snaked out to tap a code into the key pad. The central monitor flickered momentarily before it was replaced with a coffin-shaped stasis unit that sat, out of place, on the floor of lab two. The biomedical monitor attached to the head of the unit glowed a steady blue. Soft key strokes brought the next image up, a detailed report and precise orders from the Director. Slate grey eyes read through the directive yet again, after nearly three hours the burning anger had simmered to a dull throb behind his eyes. All his plans and schedules were dismantled with a single delivery.

Subject IX –

The subject will be deprived of nutrients during the accelerated growth process. Once the growth plates have fused, reverse the damage caused by lack of vital nutrients. Make use of the Reifying Encephalographic Monitor to create a clean slate for future conditioning. Emotion should be eliminated, and obedience ensured. Project should be trained to work in tandem with Weapon X, but retain human intellect. REM should be used for training purposes after Subject IX reaches full growth. Be advised that Subject IX is a mutant of undetermined powers. These powers should be developed to the fullest extent.

The Director

Now that the anger was banked, the Professor could see the advantage of developing this weapon prior to the primary project. The team he was assembling for the Weapon X program had never worked together, and this would be their first time using the REM machine to its full potential. Prior to this point, the machine had only been used as a training module by NASA. The machine used electronic waves intricately tuned to match the subject's brainwaves in order to erase memories, alter personalities, and even create false recollections to replace real memories. The scientists at NASA were too shortsighted to understand the true potential of the technology. Instead, they squandered one of the greatest breakthroughs in the history of brain research as a simple teaching tool.

What a waste, the Professor thought as he began drafting a letter to Dr. Abraham Cornelius. The brilliant young doctor was the last member of the team, and the Professor was forced to move up the timetable and approach him sooner than expected. The fact that the good doctor found himself in a spot of legal trouble, if double murder could be called that, would make securing his aid all the easier. The Professor wasn't sure if Cornelius's unique talent would be of use in this case, but he was needed for the Weapon X project, so integrating him into the team now would only benefit future endeavors.

The large, metallic examination table made its minuscule burden seem all the smaller in contrast. This place was never meant for children, Dr. Hendry mused as he finished examining the specimen. Each delicate rise and fall of the gaunt rib cage eased some of the doctor's worry that the patient would die before they got him in the capsulea. He had venomously protested against drugging such a young child, and the fact that the boy's weight was dangerously low didn't help. It's too dangerous to allow the subject to wake before the reprogramming is compete, the Professor's words lingered in the doctor's mind as he added another probe to document the heart rate. Steady brown eyes raked over the boy's starved, bruise colored flesh and the idea that this haggard child could harm anything seemed laughable.

No, the boy was a pawn in some greater game. None of my business, Dr. Hendry silently scolded himself. He'd known when he accepted the job that it was going to be less that ethical. The temptation of being part of cutting edge research had overwhelmed any sense of morality he had. However, in the last three days he'd drowned himself in past research to deal with the new challenge presented to the team. Another probe was deftly placed, no words needed to be spoken between him and the medical team as they prepared the subject. This was simple in comparison to the invasive procedures they'd be doing on the primary subject before the month drew to a close.

In fact, this procedure consisted only of himself and a pair of support nurses to hand him the proper tools at the designated time. It was simple enough to place the probes, to get the life support systems in place, and transfer the subject to the capsulea. Again, the doctor was amazed the child survived as long as he had. The boy was heartbreakingly light as Dr. Hendry deposited him into the vertical space. A water tight mask was placed over the subject's nose and mouth with an artificial umbilical cord snaking down the slender throat to provide oxygen, the bare minimum of nutrients needed to sustain life, and the chemical cocktail that would accelerate the boy's growth. Once all the wires and tubes were checked and double checked, the doctor sealed the capsulea and watched it slowly fill with murky green liquid. The interferon-laced plasma was a concoction of molecular proteins, cellular nutrients and a synthetic embryonic fluid the Professor invented, and would play a critical role in the experiment.

A mechanical drone filled the large lab when the capsulea was brought to an upright position. "Everything is in place. Inform Dr. Hines that we are ready to begin the second stage of the experiment." Dr. Hendry said, dismissing the young lab assistant. Turning back to the new experiment, he observed how even in the capsulea the boy looked far too small. The floating shape took up less than half of the length of the containment unit, and if the experiment progressed as it should, then he would never reach the full growth most men enjoyed. I've never done such an experiment, how will the boy's growth be affected? Either way, it will be interesting to observe the outcome.

The doctor's mind turned to the orders he'd been given three days ago. "Study the following research, and be prepared in seventy-two hours to perform an accelerated growth experiment depriving the subject of vital nutrients. Review what problems may arise and ways to counter them after the growth plates have fused." The Professor instructed.

Cloning was well trod territory among the scientific community, and known to be dead end. Sure, there was potential in the subject, but during animal testing it proved fraught with impossible to overcome obstacles. The files he'd been given revealed it hadn't just been animal testing that failed. There was a program in the late nineties that explored the use of cloning to create super soldiers. The preliminary tests were a success, and during the process technology had been developed to accelerate the growth of the clones. After all, what was the use of a soldier if it took fifteen years for it to develop? Instead, the growth time was reduced from years to mere weeks. Unfortunately, the fully grown specimens proved fatally flawed and died after only a few months. The cloning project was an abject failure, but the accelerated growth technology performed flawlessly, and it would bring the child up to an age where it could be turned into a viable weapon.

Well, it'll hardly count as corrupting children in a few weeks, he thought with a weary smirk that did little to ease the sense of wrongness he felt whenever he stared too long at the tiny shape floating in its vat of chemicals.

The sharp no nonsense sound of heels preceded the woman, and Dr. Hendry forcefully suppressed a sneer. She should have been helping him prep the subject, but one look at the abused child and she'd turned on her smartly polished pumps and left. Just like a woman to get squeamish at the most inopportune moment, he thought when she entered the lab and walked past him as if he didn't exist.

"Oh, Ms. Hines how good of you to join me," he said, his tone dripping poisoned honey.

"It's Doctor," the frosty words hung ignored in the air between them while her forest green eyes remained locked on the screen. She began typing, pointedly ignoring the other doctor. Not once did her gaze stray to the annoying doctor, or the small body floating in green fluid. Dr. Hines brushed a wisp of brown hair out of her face impatiently as she worked. The clatter of keys was the only sound in the large lab aside from their breathing and the low hum of machinery.

Foolish, absolutely foolish to allow my feelings to dictate my actions, she thought, sensing her fellow doctor looming behind her, obviously watching and judging her. It was difficult enough to earn respect as a woman in this field without doing something so ridiculously…female. The man standing behind her would never understand her true reasons for leaving; he probably thought her sentimental or something equally weak. He could never understand that it hadn't been compassion or concern or any other soft female emotion that filled her at the sight of the child (the baby). The moment she'd laid eyes on the new subject, the doctor had pulled one drugged eyelid back revealing a half moon of perfect emerald.

A mere two shades lighter than her own forest green orbs. Her uterus twitched at the thought, and Dr. Hines's lips thinned, making her elfin face look pinched as she shoved down hated memories of her father and the reason she couldn't stand the sight of children.

"The REM has successfully interfaced with the subject's brain." Dr. Hines said, more for the benefit of the Professor, who was watching the procedure, than for the man behind her. A snort of derision met the words, but it was ignored with practiced ease. He wouldn't be the first person to doubt her skill, and as a woman in her field she knew he wouldn't be the last. "Beginning mind stripping now." The words were spoken with robotic efficiency, but she couldn't quite hide the satisfaction in her tone. Nothing like this had been attempted before, and the idea of completely obliterating someone's existence and recreating them from the ground up was a siren's call she couldn't deny.

Unnoticed by the pair of doctors, the body jerked once before falling still.

A stranger with hard brown eyes knelt, and held out a hand to him, offering not comfort but strength…

Agony blazed as his flesh burned, the smell of his scorched hand mingled with the stench of burnt bacon…

The dizzying odor of too many cleaning chemicals in too tight a space, small unprotected hands burning from the bleach as he scrubbed every inch of the bathroom to Petunia's exacting standards…

Soft sibilant whispers that spoke of warm sunning rocks, cool ponds, and easy hunting…so close, yet never having the nerve to speak back while he pulled weeds by moonlight so that the neighbors wouldn't see…

Gently plucking the spiders off his clothes before dressing in the morning…

The terrible pain of bone cracking when Vernon twists his arm too hard…

Tears as the teddy Dudley was going to throw away was found in his cupboard and torn apart by a furious Petunia…

Wind chapping plump baby cheeks as he held on for dear life to the man, larger than any he'd ever known while they flew though the sky, the deep rumble of the machine quiet compared to the giants bellowed sobs…

Terror, being clutched in a too tight grip as they run, a man's voice shouting for them to escape. A door slamming shut and a woman weeping, wood shattering and brilliant green light…

The bitter smell of potions ingredients, dark obstinate eyes glaring down at him as he's held in an inexperienced grip. "You promise to protect him won't you…if anything happens?" A lovely voice, tight with worry. "Yes," gruffer, hiding emotion that will never be voiced…

Laughter, and a tiny broom hovering in the living room, gentle hands braced on his shoulders so he doesn't fall off…

Lying against a broad chest, listening to a calm voice patiently read the same story again because it is his favorite…

A soothing touch and soft lullaby chased away a bad dream, banishing the darkness…

Spiky black fur clenched between tiny fists as blubbering laughter is met with the swipe of a large pink tongue…

The first taste of string beans and a man's rumbling laugh as they are emphatically rejected…

Warmth and comfort, curled tightly in a ball of protection. A deep thumping vibrates the world and muffled indistinct voices create a pleasant counter note…

Memory after memory was broken down and destroyed by countering waves of energy, and piece by piece, the Boy-Who-Lived was erased.

"The mind-wipe is compete. The subject will be ready for re-mapping after he's finished growing." A small smile of accomplishment brushed feather light across her lips as she stood. Another snort met this announcement, but the perfectly blank scan of the subject's brain waves was a silent declaration of her success.

"It works on a child," the word made her grit her teeth slightly. "But will it work on an adult?" Dr. Hendry demanded, still doubtful that they needed the woman or her machine.

A strained smile met his words as Dr. Hines kept her annoyance in check. "First of all, what we're doing with the b- the subject is completely different from what we will be doing to Weapon X. With that project we will be removing the layers of humanity to expose the beast that lurks in every man." The subtle snub wasn't lost on the doctor. "But, with Subject IX, we removed everything. Every memory, every experience, thought or emotion was wiped clean. In this moment, Subject IX is like a new born; no even less than that. Even a newborn has memories from inside the womb as well as the birth and after. He has none of these, now there will be nothing left of his prior existence to pollute what we are trying to create." The words held a clinical sort of passion, even if they halted slightly on different phrases such as womb and newborn.

"We'll see," the doctor said before he turned and left, still firm in his belief that the project didn't require such obscure techniques to succeed.

Both doctors left the lab, and the electronic lights dimmed. Eerie green shadows cast by the capsulea filled the silent space that echoed with the memories of experiments past, present, and future. Even in total stillness, the lab felt alive, waiting for the moment when it would spring into motion to twist and shape the living into something more.

The Professor shook off his obscure thoughts and focused on reviewing the performance of his doctors. It left much to be desired, but in the end he had to make do with what he had. The woman was foisted upon me by the Director, and if it wasn't for the fact that she's the top, scratch that, one of the only experts at operating the REM machine, then I would get rid of her for that little stunt. Women were creatures governed more often than not by emotion, and her reaction to the child was simply further proof of that truth.

Then again, the woman doesn't require extra training, and prior to that minor lapse in judgment, has proven efficient in her job. More importantly, she is malleable. The sort who will work herself to death without complaint, and not waste valuable time asking troublesome questions. She is not a queen, nothing more than a perfect worker, a drone. The Professor dismissed the woman from his thoughts. She'd successfully performed her duty, and though there was friction between her and Henley, he expected both of them to behave like professionals. "Now all that is missing is the final player and the show can begin," he mused.

Cutler ran his large hand though his short, sandy blond hair and winched when a stray hair caught under the surgical tape was pulled free. That one was a fighter for sure, he thought, remembering the brute of a man who'd left behind the two inch souvenir on his forehead. His ears were still hot from the royal ass chewing they'd received over the condition of their precious subject was in after the team delivered Logan to the eggheads. They didn't seem to give a damn about Erdman, whose lung had been skewered by his own rib during the fight. Damn eggheads, I'd like to see them take down a mark like Logan without harming a single hair on his head ridiculously hard head.

The elevator lurched to a stop at the lowest level, and Cutler's bitter mood soured further. Prior to the wild goose chase that had crisscrossed the American/Canadian border more than once, he and the rest of the guards had been stationed here while the scientists got their beakers in a row. The scientists other test subjects had also arrived during that time. Whatever happened to white mice and monkeys? Cutler wanted to know. Oh no, these eggheads wanted something with a little more…bite. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.

"Well, at least I only have to feed the human animals," he grumbled as he wheeled the trolley down the bare stone hallway. Playing maid to a bunch of convicts wasn't his idea of a good time, but when he'd returned with Logan in tow he'd been promoted to security chief, and received Class A security clearance for his trouble. "And what did that get me? The highest clearance needed to stop feeding the damn bears, and start feeding the bloody criminals," he snorted.

"HEY, WHEN WE GETTA PLAY?" A gruff voice shouted after he slid a delicious and nutritious blob of something brown on a trey through the bottom slot of the first door. There were twelve in all, and Cutler already had a headache. It was pointless to encourage the riffraff by answering, so he sauntered down the hall, ignoring cat calls, pleas for information, and curses. He actually didn't know who these people were or why they'd been installed in cells that had been empty when he'd left, but Cutler could guess.

"Eat up boys, and save your strength…I'm sure you'll need it," he tossed over his shoulder before heading back to the elevator.

At precisely 0900, Cutler drove the flatcar into the massive lab. On a normal day, only a small portion of the air plane hanger sized lab, located one level above the adamantium smelting plant, would be in use. But, when the elevator opened Cutler was amazed to see the entire room blazing with light, and buzzing with frantic activity. Red lights flashed, and a sign proclaimed WARNING. ZONE UNDER QUARINTINE. The aggravating itch on the tip of his nose that he couldn't scratch was just one more annoyance of wearing the pressurized environmental suit, but without it, the toxic atmosphere designed to kill any contaminants that might be tracked into the lab would kill him as easily as any germ.

After he brought the cart to a gliding stop, the flatcar was swarmed with pressure suit sheathed lab techs who all but shoved him out of the way. They wheeled the flatbed to the base of the enormous tank that held the prime position in the center of the lab. With practiced ease, the techs attached the smaller holding tank to the larger vessel. Long minutes passed while the larger tank was pumped full of gallons of the green biological fluid. Once the pressure between the two containment units reached an equilibrium, the sealed door between them opened and the subject was skillfully wafted into the larger tank.

One of the smaller lab techs opened a hatch on the top of the tank, and squirmed through the tight opening, EH suit and all. After hooking up all the necessary life-support tubes and systems, the tech began checking each of the hundred or more probes placed in the subject's flesh the night before. Each connection was checked with a handheld sensor to ensure they were secure and in the proper positions.

It took nearly fifteen minutes as faulty probes were flagged by the first tech and a second, who had also squeezed into the tank, replaced the marked probes. Finally, the task was compete and with matching grins and a thumbs-up, the two techs climbed out of the tank and sealed the hatch behind them. More of the strange green fluid gushed into the space left behind until the tank was filled to the brim. While the large bank of computers forming a half circle around the central tank began interfacing with the probes and scroll an endless stream of data, the eggheads fell into an intense session of technobabble.

Cutler suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the excited men and women who were more like children on Christmas morning than adults with far too many letters after their names. When the conversation degraded to the point where he could only understand one word out of ten, Cutler's attention wandered around the huge lab.

His bored gaze was captured by the capsulea situated against the wall behind the bevy of activity at the center of the room. The scientists were too wrapped up with their new toy to notice the guard wander away from the group and stop in front of the upright capsulea. Blue eyes traced over the nude form suspended in more of the green goo and a frown tugged at his lips when he reached out to hesitantly touch the glass. Jesus, don't they feed their lab rats anymore? He wondered. It, better to think of it as that instead of as a little boy, was brutally thin. Ghostly pale skin, tinted green from the liquid, was stretched taunt over bone. It looked like his cheek bones would cut through the tissue thin skin any moment. What the hell are they doing? This can't be any sort of weapon. He'd probably die the minute they pulled him out of the jar. It was moments like this that made Cutler wonder what the hell these doctors were really about.

Nearly three weeks had passed sense Subject IX was placed in the capsulea, and in that time all his external wounds had healed. Most of his scars had faded and would soon disappear all together. All but one, the curious lightning shaped scar had a vividness to it that no other scar managed to achieve. The rest, no matter how terrible always faded, this scar remained untouched. The chemical cocktail he was being fed had done its work, and the boy no longer looked like little more than a toddler. Tiny by all normal standards, he still managed to grow, and now appeared to be a child of nine or ten.

"Everyone not part of the next phase of the experiment must depart the lab immediately." The Professor's commanding voice cut through the techs babble and jerked Cutler's attention from the emaciated specimen. He'd been so involved with his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the lab's atmosphere had been cleansed and replaced with filtered air after the main tank was sealed. He could have gotten out of the dreaded EH suit as soon as the air was breathable. Too late now, he'd have to settle with un-suiting once he scooted his butt out of the lab. It didn't take a genius to know when the Professor spoke, the peons of the Hive listened, and he was no exception.

Dr. Cornelius watched all un-needed personnel vacate the lab, and wondered again why he made the list of people who remained behind. Not that long ago, Cornelius wouldn't have considered himself a modest man, but life on the run, and being blackmailed into joining this project was a major blow to his pride. The rest of the team was rather cold and distant towards him due to his less than desirable criminal history, and the fact that he was new to the project.

There were others on the team who'd dedicated their lives to this project. Subject X was their master work, and the thought of some outsider coming in and being part of the team didn't sit well with them. He hadn't had a part to play with Subject IX, but with X, though the part was small, it was vital.

"Are you certain, Dr. Cornelius that your nanochips won't degrade the integrity of my adamantium bone sheathing?" Dr. Hendry demanded as he eyed the younger man with disdain.

"Being that bone is in and of itself an origin, and performs a much needed service to the body, I'm sure they not only won't degrade your sheathing but will instead make it viable. Once the silicon-based chips, fitted with tiny valves, and encoded with memory are injected into the heart they will quickly disperse through the body and adhere to the tiny sinuses of the bone and permit blood to flow freely once the adamantium sheathing is complete. My nanochips can withstand the white-hot molten adamantium because they are three times stronger than the metal itself. So, the real question, Dr. Hendry, is whether or not your adamantium sheathing will degrade the integrity of my nanotechnology," Cornelius replied calmly.

"Your conclusion, Doctor?" Hendry demanded.

"Absolutely not. The two processes, while complex, are actually complimentary-"

"Complimentary or contradictory?" Hendry snapped.

"-which means that despite their differences, the technologies will work together to achieve the common goal of making the subject's bones indestructible." And without my nanotechnology his bones would be sealed, and the subject would die a rather slow, agonizing death due to the inability of his body to manufacture blood, Cornelius thought, but didn't say out loud.

"It is reassuring to hear you say that. There are those of us who've spent years on this project" Bingo, there's the source of the pushback, I'm the new guy. "You understand our trepidation of course, we wouldn't want years of research to go to waste through the use of radical, untested technology developed by an unknown such as yourself," Hendry added with a snide twist of his lips.

Further debate was silenced by the voice crackling over the loud speaker. "The bonding procedure will begin in thirty minutes. All personnel take your positions to begin pre-bonding procedures."

Once everyone was in place, the Professor turned his attention to Dr. Hines. "Interface the REM with the subject's brain now."

Ten seconds passed as commands were entered into the computer. "Interface has been achieved, Professor." She replied crisply.

"Deactivate the brain dampeners," The Professor said with a sharp nod to Dr. MacKenzie. The flick of a switch deactivated the generators that had, up until this point, provided a steady stream of ultrasonic waves that paralyzed Subject X's brain. The measure had been required in the preliminary stages yesterday when it became obvious that normal tranquilizers weren't going to keep the subject sedated.

"There was a slight spike in brain activity." Dr. MacKenzie warned.

"It's an error," came Dr. Hines sharp response.

"An error? Are you sure? You know that even the slightest amount of brain activity at this juncture could result in the subject retaining facets of his personality, even after the conditioning is compete," the redheaded doctor said as he eyed the readouts.

"It is an anomaly that's been observed in subjects before. Spikes can occur when the subject's sleep is disturbed. It has been theorized that the spikes are a result of random electrical activity in the hypothalamus, or chemical reactions within the pituitary stalk." Dr. Hines said with a shrug.

"What does the encephalographic monitor show now Dr. Hines, Dr. Mackenzie?" The Professor asked.

"Interface with REM has been successful, and as of now there is no brain activity that we do not directly control." Dr. Hines confirmed.

"Perhaps Dr. Hines is correct in her hypothesis. The screen is blank now." Dr. Mackenzie added grudgingly, still not convinced.

"That's acceptable, lets proceed with stage one," the Professor turned to Dr. Cornelius. "Inject the nanochips now."

Swallowing once in an attempt to dampen his dry throat, Dr. Cornelius complied. It would work, he was certain of that, but if it didn't…best not to think of that.

M-A-D-E-L-I-N-Ehe keyed.

The screen flashed: ACCESS CONFIRMED

With one last worried breath, he pressed enter and initiated the injection process.

Inside the containment unit, a hydraulic whine sounded. A large needle descended, never pausing as it cut through skin, muscle and bone before plunging into the subject's still beating heart. The subject jerked once, before continuous thrashing set alarms off on half a dozen monitors, and sent specialists and technicians scurrying to solve the problem before too much damage was done.

Finally the thrashing subsided, and the alarms were silenced. Systems needed to reboot as the probes were tested to make sure they still functioned properly, and none of the seals had been broken. "Was the nanotechnology successful?" The Professor demanded once order was again achieved.

"Yes, sir. The process is complete, if you look here." He pointed to a full body ultrasound which showed the subject's bone structure now riddled with tiny black dots.

"Are you sure that your nanotechnology wasn't the cause of the seizure?" The Professor demanded, pinning the doctor with a hawk-like gaze.

"Absolutely."

"Then we must turn our attention on you, Dr. Hines," the Professor hissed. His glacial gaze shifted from the doctor to pin the woman to her seat.

"While I still believe that the spike was an anomaly, I purpose we reboot the system and begin the interface again from scratch just to be safe. It will take an hour to accomplish," she conceded, causing Dr. MacKenzie to shot her a smug look. The psychologist hadn't been pleased to find his position usurped by the woman and her voodoo machine.

"One hour." The Professor confirmed as he headed back to the upper level.

Once everyone reconvened, and all the systems were back online, the Professor said with a sharp smile "Let's make history."

"Feed" Dr. Chang, the metallurgist who was known for his breakthrough innovations with rare alloys, commanded.

A soft, angry hiss was heard when super-heated metal flowed from the holding tank into feeder tubes that snaked into the containment unit.

"Steady, the adamantium breakdown is twenty-nine to one, sir. I'll compensate." Dr. Chang said.

"No, it will even out." The Professor stated without concern.

"Feed."

"Steady."

"Cardiotach?" The Professor questioned. Dr. Hines glanced at the screen, a slight frown brushed her lips.

"High, higher than we anticipated," she confirmed. The green liquid bubbled furiously, and Subject X bobbed in the seething fluid. He would either make history, or die in the effort.

Dr. Chang's fingers flew over the keyboard, controlling the flow of the molten adamantium, any interruption in the flow could lead to catastrophic consequences. "Steady…"

"Suffusion enacting…now!" Instantly the activity in the holding tank increased to a frightful level when the superheated metal filled the feeder tubes and the heat was transferred to the chemical brew. Subject X was completely hidden by the churning liquid. "Feed."

On the screen, Dr. Chang watched with rapt attention as x-rays revealed the ghostly white bones painted over with darkness. As the process continued, the Professor magnified the right femur three hundred times to get a closer look at the nanotechnology, and saw to his satisfaction that the chips were protecting the delicate fissures in the bone as well as the veins and capillaries that ran though them.

"Feed, and suffusion?" The Professor asked.

"Both remain steady." Dr. Chang confirmed.

"Sir, the subject's heart rate is increasing rapidly. It is at 198 per minute and increasing." Dr. Hines said.

"Dr. Hendry?"

"I believe the nanotechnology is at fault."

"Now wait just a minute…" Dr. Cornelius protested.

"The ultrasound shows grey flakes in the subject's heart that weren't there before. Dr. Cornelius miscalculated and his chips are treating the dense heart muscle like bone, with predictable results." Dr. Hendry surmised.

"Why didn't you prepare for such an eventuality?" The Professor's tone was dark with warning.

Dr. Cornelius quickly brought up the medical records for the subject in an attempt to understand what was going wrong. There was no reason for his chips to return to the heart, they hadn't been there a moment ago.

"The rate of adamantium absorption is triple what it should be." The metallurgist warned sharply, bringing the Professor's attention back to him. "There is leakage, trace amounts of adamantium have been detected in the fluid."

"A broken valve?"

"No, it appears to be…elimination. The metal is being passed through his pores. His liver and lymph nodes are treating the metal like an infection or a toxin and filtering it out. It isn't enough to worry about, but…" Dr. Hendry explained as he studied the results with baffled eyes.

"Man, this guy's liver must be phenomenal. I bet he can't get drunk to save his life." Dr. MacKenzie said with a whistle.

Dr. Cornelius's face brightened. "That could explain the nanos lodged in his heart as well! What is the white blood cell count in his heart?" he demanded of Dr. Hendry.

"It is abnormally high…almost as if-"

"As if he's battling an infection. His immune system was able to kill a small percentage of my nanochips and they are now being filtered out of the body like waste matter. There won't be any further problems with the nanos Professor. There's no way Subject X's heart can increase further, or he'd have to be some sort of super human," he added with a chuckle.

The Professor looked stricken at the words, and before Dr. Cornelius could ask what was wrong he stood and left.

"We are nearing the equalization point, we'll need to compensate on every channel," the technician's voice cut through the stunned silence that the Professor's departure left in its wake. For a second, no one spoke.

Then Dr. Cornelius took the reins. "Re-feed on all channels."

"Feed." The word was hesitant, but they all knew that hauling the procedure at this point was impossible.

"How do you like that, we're in the middle of a crisis and he walks out." Dr. Cornelius muttered under his breath once the feeds were stabilized.

Suddenly, the flow of adamantium increased threefold and Dr. Hines began searching for what could only be a leak. "All of the channels are secure but it appears that there is an excess of adamantium flow in the flexor brevis minima digiti section."

"And that would be?" Dr. Cornelius asked.

"His hands and wrists." She simplified.

A glance at Dr. Hendry showed that he was at an equal loss as to what might be causing the drainage. "We're going to need some advise on this…where is the Professor?" No one answered. "Well, have him paged then."

"Cornelius, what do you want?" The booming voice of the Professor sounded over the loud speaker, revealing that the lab was bugged.

"Sir, there is leakage in the region of the flexio- the hands and wrists sir. We can't account for it, nor are we able to halt it" silence met his words. "D-did you hear me sir?" Dr. Cornelius asked.

"Of course I heard you. This is all part of my program, do you doubt me?"

"No, Sir! I wouldn't-"

"Continue with the procedure, and wrap things up when the bonding is complete."

"You won't be returning to the lab then?" Dr. Cornelius asked, and again silence was the only answer.

Dr. Hines glanced up at Cornelius. "And the leak sir?"

"We will proceed as planned. The leak doesn't appear to be having an adverse effect on the subject. We'll review the results in post-op and try to figure out what happened then." Dr. Cornelius decided.

Fools, the lot of them, the Professor thought darkly after he released his hold on the button to the intercom.

"Do you have everything in hand?" The voice on the headset demanded, moments before, the Professor had taken a risk and called the Director.

"Yes, everything is under control." No thanks to you.

"And Subject X will survive the bonding process?"

"Of course he'll survive it." The Professor said with exasperation. "After all, the boy wasn't the only mutant you sent me, now was he?" he stated with increased agitation. "Why was I not informed of this? Logan is a mutant with the power to regenerate damaged tissue on an unprecedented level. He's practically immortal, and you didn't think I should be made aware of this factor?"

"Logan's status as a mutant was classified Professor, on a need-to-know basis, and simply put, you didn't need to know."

"You don't understand. I'm suppose to control these people, how am I to do that if I don't have all the information? I had to leave the operating room in case they asked any questions I couldn't answer! I felt like such a fool." The note of a little boy whine entered the Professor's tone and he hated himself for making the confession.

A rumbling chuckle was heard over the line "you sound angry Professor."

"I'll admit I'm not happy with this situation. Do you not trust me?" The Professor regretted the question the moment it left his lips. Of course he doesn't trust me, if he did he would have given me the information I needed. He disregarded any platitudes the Director attempted to offer. "I have one final question, is there anything else about Subject X I haven't been informed of?"

Silence, the Director had ended the call.

Dr. Cornelius sat back in his chair and groaned. The testing on Weapon X was well under way, and he was performing at an amazing level. Good lord, those Claws! Once the bonding process had been completed, the subject was placed in an observation cell where he should have spent the next several hours unconscious. Instead, he'd woken up, and those stunning new appendages had made their first and most startling appearance. Well, at least we figured out where the overflow of adamantium was going. That, and his killer instinct was written in the blood of the idiot technician who'd been scheduled to observe the subject overnight. The foolish man decided to enter the cell when it appeared the subject was in need of medical attention, and hadn't survived the encounter.

He shuddered. At the time, he'd rushed into the observation room with two of the guards to find out what the hell was going on, and if it hadn't been for one the guards throwing himself on the subject's back, he was sure he would have died. Weapon X, naked and still bristling with hundreds of probes had cut through the three inches of Plexiglas like a kitten through a wet paper sack, and the terrible blood soaked sight left Cornelius frozen in shock. Thank goodness the man had acted quickly to distract the renegade science project while a second guard shot him full of tranquilizers.

It wasn't the only close call they'd experienced in the last three weeks. Indeed, the project almost finished off the Professor at one point. But, aside from a few mishaps, things were going surprisingly well. Against the animals, Weapon X was unstoppable. It could track and dispatch a grizzly in less than half an hour.

It wasn't the weapon aspect of X that captured Dr. Cornelius imagination, however. No, it was the unique white blood cell responsible for his unprecedented healing ability that made the Doctor's heart race. The conditioning of Weapon X fell to Dr. Hines and the Professor, which left Dr. Cornelius with hours of leisure to study X's amazing immune system. If I'd had access to this data two years ago maybe things would have been different. I'm sure I could have saved him. The thought was bitter-sweet, and every moment he spent trying to unlock the secret of Logan's biology was a silent promise that no other child would suffer as his son had suffered, and no other mother would be forced to make such a horrible decision. His beautiful Madeline reached her breaking point, and gave their little boy the rest he deserved, and followed him on his journey. When the authorities blamed him for the murders, Cornelius didn't correct them. His wife had been a devout Catholic, and he couldn't stand the thought of what people would say about her if they knew the truth.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he scrawled more notes on the yellow ledger pad. The last word ended in a jagged streak as the room suddenly went dark. Seven breathless seconds passed in echoing silence, the endless technological hum had ground to a shocking halt and it felt like his heart had stopped with it. Then, the backup generators kicked on and alarms blared, under the sound a fierce shout was heard somewhere deeper in the complex, and Cornelius's mouth went dry.

In a dark, empty lab emerald eyes snapped open as magic roared through the frail body. Six weeks, each the equivalent of two years had passed, and though late due to the extreme acceleration of his growth and his deeply malnourished state, his magical inheritance was finally upon him.

The thrum in his blood grew to a fever pitch until it finally crested in an explosion of sheer power. Glass, that would normally have been able to withstand bullets, shattered outward in a wave of green fluid when the full strength of his magic rolled out of the adolescent, and tore through the base, leaving darkness in its wake.

The skeletal form crashed to the ground. Probes and wires were torn from his starved flesh, and bones fractured as he landed on the cold cement. Crimson mingled with green when shards of glass tore into delicate skin and the form thrashed weakly, unable to comprehend the agonizing stimuli now flooding his system.

Please review and let me know what you think!

Authors Note: A thousand thank-you's to Angelsea for helping me come up with the name capsulea for this chapter, giant test tubes just doesn't have the same ring to it.

I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted, and added this story to their favorites!