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CHAPTER 35
🕑 Added 2025-06-23 16:01:33 +0000 UTCAidan—now fully inhabiting his role as Ward Morey—officially joined Dr. Ashford’s experimental team. As expected, he was not immediately granted access to the core serum research. Instead, he was assigned to the periphery, assisting a stoic researcher named Titch. This arrangement suited him perfectly. It gave him time.
While his days were spent observing Titch's work, his nights were his own. He began construction. His primary goal was energy independence. Never again, he thought, the memory of his failing suit in Malibu still fresh. I will never be powerless due to an energy shortage again. He started work on a small, stable Arc Reactor. Next came protection: a suit of armor, not as sophisticated as the ones Tony Stark was undoubtedly designing, but something functional that could fully encase him. And for offense, he would stick with what he knew: his deadly electromagnetic arrow cones.
His activities created a strange anomaly within the pristine biolab. In a facility that smelled of antiseptic and agar, one room began to emit the sharp scent of ozone and hot metal. Amidst beakers and microscopes, a welding station appeared, surrounded by steel plates and complex wiring. It was a jarring sight, but Dr. Ashford, consumed by his own research, seemed to have forgotten about the strange requests of his new assistant.
For a week, Ward followed Titch, quietly observing his research. The man was obsessed with the cellular division of tissue from a small intestine. But the rate of division was unnatural. Instead of the normal hour-long cycle, the cells on Titch's monitor were dividing multiple times per second. Ward didn't need access to the data to know what he was looking at. It was the T-Virus at work. In his downtime, he continued to build.
One evening, as he was putting the finishing touches on a new neural-transmitter headband, there was a soft knock on his studio door. The silver-white battlesuit stood quietly against the wall behind him.
He took off his data glasses. "Dr. Ashford? Please, come in."
Dr. Ashford entered in his wheelchair, his curious eyes scanning the room. He noted the electronic components, the circuit boards, the small electromagnetic tracks on the table. Finally, his gaze settled on the sleek, silver-white battlesuit. It was designed like a form-fitting windbreaker, looking surprisingly light. He wheeled around to the back and touched the material that looked like a folded cape.
"...Shape-memory alloy?" he asked, his voice full of scientific curiosity.
"Yes," Ward confirmed. "When heated by a small electrical charge, it rapidly expands into a rigid paraglider. It saves a tremendous amount of energy in aerial transit."
"You've researched mechanical exoskeletons as well?" Ashford asked, impressed.
"Only as a hobby," Ward said with some regret. "The materials available to me were limited, so the defensive capabilities are minimal."
Ashford chuckled. "The metals you've requisitioned are not cheap, my boy. Umbrella only grants access to its more advanced materials for projects that have shown immense promise and a significant contribution to the company." He paused, then asked, "Do you know what Titch has been studying these past days?"
"He's observing cell division in intestinal tissue," Ward replied promptly. "But the rate of mitosis is abnormally high. In some samples, I observed three or more divisions per second. Without the core data, I can't make a firm conclusion, but the cells are exhibiting cancerous-level replication without the associated decay."
Dr. Ashford nodded, his decision made. "Come with me," he said, wheeling out of the room. "I want to show you something."
Ward followed him back to the main laboratory, and then to a sealed inner sanctum. The room was bathed in the incandescent glow of countless machines. Tables were densely packed with test tubes filled with liquids of unsettling colors. In the corner, a cultivation pool bubbled with growing cell cultures.
Ashford wheeled over to a square glass container holding a single test tube of swirling, iridescent blue liquid. "Some time ago," he began, his voice taking on a frantic, feverish edge, "I asked you about a virus that could activate dead cells. I can now tell you, we have found it. A virus that can rapidly increase the body's metabolism and regenerate necrotic tissue."
He picked up the test tube. "Of course, as you predicted, the human immune system attacks it viciously. The energy required to fight it off and fuel the regeneration is immense. So," he said, his eyes gleaming with a terrible hope, "we fused the virus with the DNA of a leech, giving it regenerative properties that are almost self-sustaining."
He spoke of his daughter, and his face was filled with a doting love. "The effect of the experiment is remarkable. There is hope my daughter can stand again." Then, his expression darkened. "However, there were… side effects. Early test subjects began coughing, sneezing, developing rashes. We soon discovered the virus was still invading healthy cells. The body began to rot. The virus invaded the brain, and the body's need for energy and protein became… primal. They became like animals, like those afflicted with rabies."
"So you are researching a healing serum," Ward stated, taking the blue vial that Ashford handed him. The T-Virus. The plague that could end the world, right here in his hand.
"Yes," Ashford confirmed. "After the injection of the T-Virus, the host's physique is strengthened, but it also accelerates mitochondrial damage. It speeds up aging. The goal of the serum is to eliminate the infected cells after they have done their healing work, restoring the body to normal."
"And where is the research now?"
"We've found that allicin has some antagonistic effect on the virus, but it cannot be eliminated. We need to develop a specific drug that can destroy the virus's genetic material," Ashford explained, happy to have a brilliant mind to discuss his work with. He didn't expect Ward to solve his problems, but he was old, his legs and feet were useless, and he desperately needed a capable pair of hands.
Ward dove into the research with a ferocious intensity. While his knowledge of biology was new, his "Affinity" talent and the guidance of a master like Ashford allowed him to learn at a phenomenal rate. His insights, drawn from different scientific paradigms from other worlds, often provided Ashford with new avenues of thought, and their progress on the serum accelerated dramatically.
Soon, it was time for the first live-subject test.
In a sealed chamber, a lab mouse was injected with the T-Virus. Ward watched the data stream in on his monitor, a cold, clinical observer to the four stages of biological apocalypse.
Stage One: Infection. He watched the virus's code light up on the screen as it flooded the mouse's system, latching onto its cells, rewriting its chromosomes. Stage Two: Immune Response. The mouse's immune system flared to life, launching a suicidal counter-attack. But it was overwhelmed. He watched the "necrotic tissue" percentage on his HUD climb steadily as the mouse's own body began to die. The fur began to fall off in patches. Stage Three: Brain Invasion. The virus breached the blood-brain barrier. The higher brain functions flickered and died. Life-sustaining systems were rerouted to a single, primal directive: feed. The mouse began to mindlessly gnaw at its own limbs to consume protein. Stage Four: The Change. The brainstem was all that was left. The creature was no longer a mouse. It was a thing of pure, mindless instinct, driven only by sound and smell. A zombie.
