----
"The Deathspore doesn't match any known Earth biology…"
Nolan adjusted the microscope, studying a sample extracted from Baron Strucker's tissue. His voice was a calm murmur, but his mind raced.
"This isn't terrestrial."
Under magnification, the Deathspore cells pulsed thrumming with alien virulence. They didn't just infect. They unraveled.
They secreted protein-dissolving enzymes that attacked synapses and cellular membranes, liquefying entire organisms in seconds.
He watched as a lab rat exposed to just a single particle collapsed and melted like wax near a flame.
"They don't poison," Nolan mused. "They overwrite."
The spores didn't just kill. They invaded a host's system and reprogrammed it to destroy itself. Cellular apoptosis self-destruction wasn't a defense. It was a weapon the spores exploited.
Even more disturbing was their defensive response.
Strucker hadn't been immune. He was occupied. The Deathspore treated him like a home and any intruder as a threat. The spores devoured foreign substances on contact.
Toxins. Pathogens. Even some types of nanotech.
"This is why it works," Nolan whispered. "They defend the host by eliminating competition. Not protection ownership."
He leaned back. "So how did he survive?"
Strucker was still alive barely. Sedated, restrained. His body is locked in a regenerative loop fueled by Extremis-based Centipede Serum and stabilized by Deathspore.
Nolan resumed the procedure, hands glowing faintly with magnetokinesis.
Surgical tools hovered midair.
With cold precision, he sliced into Strucker's chest and began a slow dissection unbothered by the subject's pain. The regenerative cocktail kept Strucker from dying. Every incision was met with healing. Every organ is exposed and studied.
When Nolan reached the lungs, the answer clicked.
"Makes sense…"
The Deathspore had colonized the respiratory system but hadn't killed it. Instead, it formed a symbiotic agreement.
Inside the lungs, neutrophil white blood cells produce a rare enzyme. One that didn't attack the Deathspore, but instead regulated it.
A feedback loop.
The spores would replicate… and be pruned.
Growth is balanced by death. A living stalemate.
"The body adapted," Nolan whispered. "This… is the missing key."
He extracted the enzyme and began isolating its sequence.
With it, he could control Deathspore.
He worked feverishly, editing cells on a microscopic level, splicing genes with his custom symbiote-enhanced instruments. A single vial of synthesized serum shimmered under UV light.
"This should do it."
He glanced at the frozen form of Strucker already sealed in a containment pod again.
"He's not dead. Not exactly. But now he's a delivery system."
A walking virus.
A weapon of last resort.
If anyone crossed him, Nolan wouldn't even need to raise a fist.
He could just… release Strucker.
---
Back in Reality
The mirrored surfaces shattered Nolan had kept the research in a mirror dimension to prevent contamination.
As he stepped back into his pristine lab, Connors and Stern were waiting, visibly eager.
Connors handed over a datapad. "Zemo's biology interesting results. The energy signatures in his cells are consistent with long-term mystical exposure."
"Residual radiation," Stern added. "Likely from the Moonstone."
Nolan scanned the report. "Localized enhancements. Muscle density. Bone resilience. Cellular patterning."
The readings confirmed it. Zemo's strength wasn't natural it had been gifted, temporarily, by an artifact.
Connors nodded. "We documented unique markings between his muscle fibers almost like spell-seared runes."
"Replicable?"
"Unclear," Stern said. "But we've archived them. With time, we could reverse-engineer the dimensional frequency."
Nolan tossed the tablet aside.
"Destroy him."
No hesitation.
Connors nodded to an assistant, who wheeled the unconscious Zemo toward the incinerator.
This man had triggered a civil war within the Avengers. Had assassinated Wakandan royalty. Had nearly torn apart the world's strongest alliance.
He didn't scream. He didn't wake up.
Zemo died quietly.
His body, powers, and vendetta were reduced to ash.
---
"Funny," Nolan muttered, watching the flames. "He never knew his plan worked better than he intended."
But this was war.
And the cleanup had only just begun.
----
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