The year was 1993 and a technician was working at a laboratory computer terminal right outside of the containment cell, overlooking the two-way mirror that peered directly into the cell of subject H14. Based on energy readings from the computer, Ozzi Samual was astonished by all of the data that came flashing before his eyes at a slow ponderous pace. Computers were quite slow when it came to processing the details. Based on the scientific equations, his ability to casually break space time along with the very laws of the universe itself came from his psionic abilities. The laws of physics were to the Universe what the coding of the computer's programs were to him. Essentially, he changed the laws of thermodynamics, outputting gigajoules or even terajoules of energy, for example, with but the mere chemical energy of the human metabolism. As a drawback, he needed up to ten times the calories of a normal human in order to not starve to death.
If he was not in an atmosphere, he could warp time and space to such an extreme degree that he could open up skip gates, psychically generated wormholes, to other destinations between distant star systems. For all he knew, his father could have just exterminated entire alien species across many different solar systems in a fifty light year radius between 1944 and 1993. That would explain why SETI never heard anything from distant stars within the location Earth stood in the Milky Way. Other signals may as well have been background noise farther outside this bubble. Then again, it was nothing more than Samual's crazy speculations as to why the universe felt so dead, outside of Earth.
What scared Samual even more than the racist, omnipotent billionaire and his belligerent son was the strange, otherworldly biology they shared. While they were physiologically identical from the rest of Humanity for the most part, their genetics worked on a different level than that of any ordinary human. The virus in their bloodstream analyses the DNA in the ovum, mutates it until it has a matching phenotype, along with the supercharged, psionic nervous system that worked as a fast computer without somehow overheating as thermodynamics said it should. Both H14 and his father were a self-replicating threat of Von Nuemann level proportions.
Samual's poured a bottle of Smirnov Vodka, took a swig, and asked the computer a separate question. This question pertained to the possibility of H14 escaping. The supercomputer system's answer was one of abject terror. Ozzi's eyes widened. There was an ominous answer that showed on the computer's high resolution, CRT screen. The chance of H14 escaping containment was around ninety-nine-percent in hundreds of decimal places, much too many for Ozzi to count. Ozzi knew that it was pretty much certain.
"What would happen if he did escape the facility?" typed Ozzi, muttering in terror under his breath.
The answer that came forth from the prompt made Ozzi's heartbeat so rapidly, so loudly that H14 could hear it all the way in his cell, made of ten feet of depleted uranium on all sides, except for the two way mirror. Two answers came up. One was a swift genocide, the other a slow genocide.
"Complete annihilation of the Jewish people and all non-European races by the year 2045," the computer formulated in the simulations.
"Complete genetic removal of the Jewish people and non-White races through H14 and Arthur Luther Pierce's dominant genes, gradually edited out of the pool through the virus that would be present in all humans by the year 40,000 AD. Combined with their immortality and dominant genes, a supe based on this progenitor serum gene therapy could keep reproducing eternally," answered the computer with the best-case scenario.
Samual's face was frozen in horror at what he had just found. It was not as if they were dealing with Klara, it was more closer to an eldritch horror than any kind of super being created in Dachau from the horrific experiments done by Frederick Vought in the 1930s and 1940s with the compound poorly derived from Arthur Pierce's blood.
For the moment, Nolan was completely harmless inside his nine-foot-thick cell. The construction was a mix of rebar concrete and hardened plates of densified uranium, telekinetically compressed at the atomic level to be hundreds or thousands of times harder than standard uranium plate. The brain child of Abram Diamond, this cell was designed to house beings of unimaginable power through the use of impossibly hard, dense sheets of depleted uranium at the front, sandwiching a slab of thick, reinforced concrete strong enough to survive a close proximity nuclear explosion. Basically, it was composite armor used for a prison cell.
Samual did have the misfortune of facing the two-way mirror, he could theoretically fly through the mirror; however, should he wake up, there was chains with links thirty millimeters thick, strong enough to moor an Aircraft carrier, shackled to an operating table like a human experiment from Imperial Japan or Nazi Germany. Those chains could hoist a thousand metric tons, assuming the crane did not sink into the ground as a result of an extreme amount of force being focused on a tiny surface area.
The entrance was at the back of the cell, a depleted uranium blast door made of a supremely strong nanocomposite of steel, depleted uranium, tungsten, all layered on top of each other to form a super strong, space age material not even a bunker buster could break through. Quantum leaps of materials science have been made with the sole purpose of containing H14 and his menacing father.
What many of the boys down in engineering were attempting to develop was a high explosive, anti-tank warhead that used fissile material as its filling. Such a weapon would kill H14 and Arthur Pierce if a major organ was hit. Conventional explosives, including shaped charges, were pretty much useless against Arthur and H14, as the telekinetic field around their bodies, though only millimeters thick, was effectively several meters of rolled steel. He could be hit with conventional weapons for days or weeks to no avail. It was bombing a bunker beneath several kilometers of dirt.
Sure, a HEAT warhead would momentarily blind him or knock him off balance, but a high explosive, anti-tank warhead capable of going through his eyes alone would need to be an extremely powerful shaped charge, too powerful to be man portable, something more akin to a Maverick or a Hellfire missile fired out of a NATO helicopter gunship. Locking on to a target the size of a ping pong ball was essentially impossible. Such missiles were designed for Russian main battle tanks.
While Samual was pondering the death of his people, Abram confidently strode into H14's containment cell with his attractive young assistant. She was wheeling in a workbench full of surgical tools, power tools. For example, he would like to test a diamond tipped power drill on the weakest point of H14's body, his ear drum.
Ozzi could not watch this, so he buried his head in his work, trying not to focus on Abram's sick, sadistic behavior. He did, however, have a crush on Abram's assistant. She was a lithe yet still curvy woman with red hair, a symmetrical face, a heart shaped butt, and large yet still perky breasts. She had crystal blue, almond shaped eyes that drew men to her wherever she looked.
She would have been the perfect person for espionage, given that she was almost entirely phenotypically European. Then again, there was no way to effectively poison Arthur, as his psionic powers break that up more effectively than his still human immune system. Harmful pathogens and viruses were dealt with at the atomic level, which Abram found out when he attempted to infect H14 with HIV before he was tossed into a tokomak. His powers didn't give a damn. H14 just wouldn't die. Pathogens were disassembled at the atomic level while damage caused by immense radiation to DNA was repaired, perfectly, in an instant.
Even incinerating him in a fusion reactor only put him in a coma, whereupon damaged or missing tissues were replaced with new cells reassembled telekinetically, assembled at the atomic level, then moved in place of damaged tissues. Even though the bones of his fingers were burned at such high temperatures that his bones exploded inside of the burned muscle, most of the damage was gone within four weeks, with the bulk of the six-month coma spent regrowing nerves which took longer due to their complexity and recreating the hair follicles all over his body. Nolan even looked like a coma patient with his long unkempt hair and his gross, scraggly pale blonde beard.
Despite being just fourteen years old, he looked nothing like a fourteen-year-old. Standing at six feet, four inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and sixty eight pounds, he looked like a holocaust survivor liberated from one of the camps by Soldier Boy, his muscles wasting away as a result of the prolonged inactivity. While he looked like a lanky weakling, each one of those arms were more than capable of pulling or pushing with a grand total of three hundred thousand kilograms of force.
If he were to suddenly awaken, Samual hoped Diamond and his assistant would put a knife to H14's throat, which they should in the case of the extinction level event the computer simulation calculated. Otherwise, it was game over. Every population outside of native Europeans would be annihilated by this horrifying monstrosity behind the two-way mirror. There were no two ways about it. Kill him right then and right there or else billions of people would die horrible deaths as a result of engineered famines, assuming H14 did not ram into cities at near the speed of light and simply flatten entire continents.
Ever since Diamond lost his feet to a beam attack from Arthur Pierce, he grew a lot more cruel than usual. He grabbed one of his favorite tools, a scalpel, lowered it, and raked it through H14's wrists. Blood trickled from the wound that rapidly knitted itself together as no tissue was missing. It was there one second, then vanished in a flash of light the next. Telekinesis fused the molecules together, quickly healing minor to serious injuries in seconds to minutes, so long as the original tissue was still present. Severe burns, missing limbs, or destroyed organs required the regeneration coma he was in presently.
While that was pointless petty torture to Ozzi Samual, it pleasured Abram greatly. Abram, while a brilliant engineer, was a total sadist who managed to avoid prison because the child was a non-Jew in Israel and thus had no rights under the law. H14 was a non-entity, a plaything tortured under the guise of scientific funding from the Israeli government, and by extension, the American taxpayer.
"It is not as fun to do this now that he's starting to look like a man. Besides, we know all about the innerworkings of this animal. We have a pretty decent idea of how to kill it thanks to the works of our biologist, Ozzi, in the other room," said Abram in a bored, dispassionate tone.
He raised the scalpel up in the air, holding it as if it were a sacrificial dagger and thrusted it down into H14's eye as hard as he could. The only thing that could be heard in the process was a clatter, the blade of the scalpel was blunted completely. H14 was awake.
Abram and his assistant quickly tried to scamper from the containment cell like rats as H14 was trying to break containment. Sadly, the door was sealed as a safety precaution.
Ozzi panicked. He got up from his computer and stormed out of the containment cell area, straight to the nuclear reactor. While the explosion would do very little real damage to H14, it should severely burn him while at the same time burying him beneath several megatons of rock and debris. H14 should starve to death while trapped so deeply in a planet he could never hope to escape. Ozzi felt like he was the only sane person in the facility.
Abram was dealing with one of the most dangerous entities to have ever existed in history. From Samual's point of view, it was like watching a bunch of chimps smash a hydrogen bomb with rocks like it was some kind of curiosity. No, this was a situation that needed to be diffused before it could escalate into a full-on apocalypse. Causing a reactor meltdown was the most logical solution right now. Otherwise, the world was clearly doomed.
Nolan quickly awoke from his coma, seeing that he was still in his containment cell, this time chained to an operating table for Abram and his assistant to do god knew what with his unconscious body. The chains around his thin, emaciated arms were thick and heavy, each one weighing several tons on each hand. He lifted his arm upward, struggling just slightly as the weight of an entire armored car was holding each arm.
Based on what he could tell of the chains, they were made of an ultra-strong steel alloy manufactured at the atomic level with nanotechnology, with the sole-purpose of containing a being as strong as Soldier Boy. Each link of the chains was thick two, about thirty millimeters in overall thickness if Nolan was to take a guess. Not that any of his guesses on the matter were accurate. His vision was still slightly blurry on account of emerging from a lengthy, six-month long coma not many people come out of with any functionality, let alone his.
Strong as these chains were, they always had a weakness, where they were welded. Thus, he raised his arm as hard as he could, tensing every little bit of his lanky non-existent muscles in his arms in the hopes of getting free. The steel buckled under the immense force his right arm was putting out, its low groan reverberating through the entire chain on his right hand.
Every muscle in his arm and face felt like they were on fire as even the psychic assistance of his tactile-telekinesis struggled against the insane properties of these steel chains. They must have been indestructible, a material with the same properties as his own flesh. Nolan found himself seemingly unable to break it.
It was a very desperate situation as well. Abram's ambiguously European looking assistant, who Nolan was able to identify as Jewish from very slight deviations in her facial structure, was carrying a plastic mass with a metal skull and bones cannister on it.
Fortunately, the material that the chains were made of was not indestructible, as he quickly snapped open the two inch-thick, super strong shackle apart with an almost explosive force. Nolan swiftly grabbed Abram's assistant with his large right hand that was wider than the rest of his musculature, and slammed Abram's assistant's face so hard against the operating table, her whole head disappeared in a crimson explosion of gore.
Using the rest of his body as leverage, Nolan broke the chain's holding his left arm with no effort, and made a run for the thick, depleted uranium blast door of his white, featureless, sterile containment cell.
Predictably, Abram was nowhere to be seen, given that he had made a break for it the very moment he had woken up, the very moment when his scalpel was blunted by the force field surrounding Nolan's entire body. Abram was a coward. And since he lost his feet to Arthur in '85, he has become even more craven and cowardly.
Moving over to the blast door. Nolan spread his legs apart and crouched low to get the most amount of leverage as possible when lifting the door up over his head and out of containment. His fingers slid through the weakest part of the door, the titanium locking mechanism at the very bottom where Nolan's toes met. It was only a few millimeters thick. Weaker supes like Noir could have done that.
What they could not do was pry open a three hundred and fifty thousand kilo blast door that was four feet thick of densified Uranium. Nolan was able to lift the door up with the same degree of strain a teenager in high school had when he was doing his first squat. For all he knew, the blast door was heavier with the hydraulics systems he was working against, rated to open and shut a three hundred metric ton door from the top.
Once out of the building, his weakened, atrophied muscles were aching and stiff. He probably tore a muscle prying the door open, but he did not care. Nolan's main concern at this point was getting out of this facility before being recaptured and killed.
The corridors surrounding Nolan's containment cell were made of reinforced, rebar concrete only thick enough to prevent the sand from caving in the whole facility. The floors were made of paved, concrete tile, unlike the reflective tile of his cell. Best of all, the ceiling lights did not reflect off the ground and impaired his vision like that sensory deprivation hell that was the containment cell.
In that corridor, he saw Abram Diamond, smiling with a sadistic look on his face as if he were going to enjoy the fight between him and Nolan. Nolan's eyes changed from their usual emerald green to a menacing reddish white with smoke coming out the sides, looking upon Abram with a sneer as he floated off the ground.
"You know, once I am out of here, I am going to make your whole family suffer. I can hear you across rooms, which means I know where they live in this sandy little shit hole you call Israel. Ooh, I can just imagine grabbing your newborn child by the legs and bashing his head against the wall of your mansion. Of course, that is before I burn down all the surrounding villages," smiled Nolan
"It is over. Ozzi had just set the facility to self-destruct. You'll die in minutes, you arrogant Aryan slime," screamed Abram, handgun pointed at Nolan.
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to kill you quickly," threatened Nolan with a look of annoyance.
Nolan flew at Abram at high speeds, gripping both of Abram's small hands in his huge hands and constricted them tightly with his fingers. All of the bones in Abram's hands made loud snapping noises, followed by the loud gruesome squelching noise that came with bones punching through muscle, skin, and tendons. Abram's hands exploded in a shower of gore as if crushed under a hydraulic press in a factory.
Nolan then let go. Abram crumpled to the floor, blood soaking it, crying in agony as he looked down at his hands, reduced to floppy bags of gravel. Bits of bone were falling out the holes in the pulpy messes that were once Abram's hands. One of them did not even look like it was once a hand to begin with, the flesh twisted around a crushed, misshapen ball of steel that was once Abram's 9mm Jericho handgun.
"Can't use your Jew sorcery anymore? How come?" he said with a pretend look of shock.
Nolan leaned forward and put his right hand around Abram's throat, lifting him up by his neck. His eyes changed once again from a emerald green to a menacing reddish white, the red being red shifting
"Look at me, you fucking rat kike! I like to see the light leave your eyes, or if you vermin even do have a soul to begin with," he said with a sneer
Little did Arthur know, the convection produced by him charging his optical beams was more than enough to ignite clothing, flesh, or wood. Abram's greasy black fro almost immediately caught fire as the heat energy was enough even at that distance, hot enough to evaporate steel. Then his shirt collar was caught in the conflagration, searing Abram's face in the small inferno.
"Better idea," Nolan growled, impatiently.
"Fry, you fucking oven dodging piece of shit!"
Abram was left in the corridor of Chronos Facility to burn to death in the conflagration started as a result of his clothing catching fire from Nolan's heat vision analogue.
On his way out of the facility, Nolan encountered a squad of Israeli Defense Force Soldiers, armed with the usual, standard issue plate carriers and NATO caliber rifles. They let Nolan have it with the predictable effect of the rounds harmlessly pinging off of his skin, his hospital gown, and even the weak points they tended to focus fire on. He still felt getting shot in the eyes, but it was more like a light poke from a person's finger or getting hit with a squirt gun.
One of them was holding a Gustav Recoilless rifle and shot a shell off at him. The shaped charge was harmlessly dissipated by his telekinetic shielding. Nolan returned the favor with two lances of superheated plasma, slicing the man's legs off, then turning his eyes to the whole squad, cutting them all down.
The Israeli Soldiers fell to the floor, smoldering mutilated heaps. The smell was, to a normal person's horror, not that bad. The scent of burning human flesh smelled like overcooked pork to Nolan, not unbearable, but nothing that was edible.
Personnel that were missed by the beams arguably had the worst fate out of all of them in the entrance of the facility. Convection currents from the immensely hot beams lit their clothing on fire almost instantly, sending them running around the room screaming in pain before they collapsed on to the floor, charred heaps. Nolan let out a satisfied grin.
Nolan turned his attention to the entrance door of the facility, a thirty-foot tall, sixty-foot-wide blast door. Two beams of superheated plasma were focused on the center of the door with immense intensity that Nolan was able to melt a large, eight feet in diameter, white hot hole as if large quantities of thermit were place on the exit.
He made his exit to the outside. There was a path made in the sand to the facility, full of barricades and fortifications like the beaches of Normandy. There were concrete bunkers with 40mm Bofors cannon nests in each of them in contrast to MG34 machine gun nests. For additional support, there was a Patriot Missile Defense system, three Merkava tanks loaded with anti-tank rounds. It was perhaps of one of the most well defended installations in the entire country, if not the planet.
Now Nolan understood very clearly why his mother never once made an attempt to save him. The 40mm cannon of those bunkers was more than enough to break his mother's bones. Patriot missiles would have disoriented a supe of her caliber. An anti-tank shell from one of those Merkava's, Israel's cheap knockoff of an M1 Abrams, would have skewered her like a spear thrown from a hoplite. To Nolan, however, or even Arthur, these defenses were fodder.
Before the turrets of the Merkava tanks could even acquire Nolan, he took aim with his optical blasts, melting through the thinnest points of the tanks armor, where the munitions were located. The resultant blast of the munitions storage completely perforated the crews into gruesome piles of red paste as all one hundred- and twenty-millimeter shells were promptly ignited. Nolan even made sure to rake the other two tanks in a thirty-degree arc.
40mm armor piercing shells bounced off of Nolan like rocks off of a main battle tank, sometimes ricocheting and tearing some of the soldiers shooting him with their Galil assault rifles in two. One shell even blinded him for a very brief moment as it struck his forehead and exploded into a puff of sparks against the invisible, telekinetic armor that surrounded his body.
Using his penatra vision, he found the munitions storage by the feet of the turret operator, turning his eyes to that location with the precision of a machine. Two particle beams immediately burned through six inches of rebar concrete, into the pillbox, and into the shells, igniting the powder in a conflagration. The operator was sent through the rampart, a burning mutilated, screaming heap in the sand.
Two beams of superheated plasma cut into the solid fuel rocket boosters of the patriot missiles, instantly igniting them. Fragments from the explosions perforated the soldiers guarding the Patriot Missile Defense system, leaving them on the ground, gory mutilated heaps. Their plate carriers did not cover their limps and head, which were reduced to a pulp.
Slowly levitating off the ground, Nolan shot into the air with a loud thunderous clap, shattering the sound barrier the second he got off of the ground. Any soldiers who may have survived unharmed now had to live with hearing damage after that moment.
The moment he saw a township, he flew above it and immediately burned it to the ground in a strafe with his optical blasts. He never cared. Nolan knew he was not going to face any reprisal from the Israeli Defense Force, as his father wiped out ninety percent of them back in 1985, the event they used to guilt-trip him into accepting their torturous experiments. Besides, he did not even see it as really a crime, but simple pest control. That was what it was to him.
The township he had crossed paths on the outskirts of that facility's clear, blue desert skies have turned cloudy from all of the smoke his optical beams caused from the burning buildings. Entire buildings sometimes collapsed into heaps of rubble as a result of having the supports cut off. People were screaming, on fire as a result of the convection currents of his beams. Ambulances that came in to respond were immediately conflagrated when optical beams struck their fuel tanks. For fun, he would even set fire to one of their hospitals because why not.
Nolan was a child with a magnifying glass, sitting outside of an anthill, and focusing the solar radiation of the sun on to a group of insects. These insects may have happened to kill his sister and put up a strong enough defense that not even his mother would dare rescue him. That was what made the view of the burning town so satisfying, the people who killed his sister were there, thus justifying his actions from his point of view.
A whole apartment complex was split down the middle when a beam of superheated plasma from an unidentified flying humanoid hit it with his optical blasts. Nolan would keep up the pace, going to suburban neighborhoods and setting fire to them with his optical blasts, cutting a long wound in the surface of the earth. Best part of it was the heat fused the sand into glass, rendering the substance unsuitable for laying the foundations of new structures. The land can no longer be developed without costly measures to remove the obsidian-like hard substance the ground had become.
Done with that town, Nolan moved on to the next and a few others until he was finally at the residence of where Abram's family lived. Nolan wanted that man to suffer. What better way to make a man suffer than to destroy his entire legacy, ensuring that he leave not a single genetic trace of his existence left in the genetic swimming pool. He was almost certain that Diamond was getting a medivac; thus, it was best to leave him with a very rude awakening when he finally had the bandages taken off of his burned, disfigured face.
Nolan flew down, smashed through the roof of Abram's mansion, crushing most of the people inside of the structure under dozens of tons of rubble. He flew up, noticed a survivor, an older middle-aged woman, and descended down, slowly.
She was screaming like a banshee, both of her legs under several thousands of pounds of brick and mortar on her fall from the house. Nolan took great pleasure in seeing her suffer, knowing that Abram's precious little angels were buried under many tons of rubble, crushed to an unrecognizable pulpy, gory mess. Best part was, his torturer was as powerless to save his family as Nolan was as powerless to stop him in those dark days. Things were finally starting to look up for him that day, almost as if the Gods were finally smiling on his people for once.
"You killed my family, you fucking gentile, lab rat freak," yelled Isabella Diamond in Hebrew.
"No, your husband killed them when he decided to torture his genetic superior. This is all Abram's fault," sneered Arthur in Hebrew.
Nolan grabbed Isabella by the throat with his right hand and grabbed a piece of rebar. With a low-energy optical blast, he heated the piece of rebar until it was white hot, glowing so brightly Nolan's eyes were watery just looking at its brightness, like the sun's rays.
Isabella was already a crippled, mangled mess upon being pulled out of the rubble and debris at the very back of her mansion. Both of her legs were bruised and shapeless from being crushed, with bone fragments and blood trickling out of the tears in the skin. One of her hands was blue, bloodied, and floppy, too, as a result of being crushed as well. Arthur could leave her there to be a cripple for the rest of her life, just like her husband, probably not as severe in her case, as it would all be over in forty years. No, Nolan thought it wasn't a good enough punishment for the man who had killed his sister and destroyed his childhood. He wanted her to suffer, too.
Nolan shoved the glowing, white hot piece of rebar inside of Isabella, all the way into her womb, burning her internally. She screamed in agony, while Nolan looked into her eyes with a sadistic grin at what he was doing, taking great pleasure. The rebar sizzled as it made contact with her fluids, almost immediately scorching that region until it went completely cold. Nolan laughed as she tried to claw his eyes out with her long nails, only to tear off said nails and scream in even more pain. Nolan gently shoved the bar in deeper.
He then pulled down on it, ripping out a large amount of tissue inside of her, including what was left of Isabella's womb. Then Nolan looked at the rebar covered in Isabella's burned reproductive organs, cringed in disgust, and threw it to the sides. As she was on the ground crying, Nolan chuckled at her, knowing he was a teenage boy and would face no consequences for what he just did.
"Enjoy being a barren spinster now, you rotten Jew bitch," he sneered.
Nolan flew into space, heading North, no doubt to Europe as he was being hunted by the Israeli Defense Force now. Space was a place where not even the best radar installations on Earth could even hope to ping Nolan's location or his heading, as flying in atmosphere left a trail of fire that could be followed by fighter jets, not that their fragmentation warheads could hurt him. He chosen it because it was the birth place of his civilization, the heartland of his race, and the seat of power in the world for centuries until World War II. He chose the United Kingdom as that was where his blonde hair and green eyes came from, Nordic Europe.