For weeks, Malrick had road across the world, his Blacklight clone consuming life in all its forms. From the largest whales gliding through the oceans to virus particles drifting unseen in the air, nothing escaped his hunger.
Even humanity fell within that range. From the raging strength of the Hulk to the frailest unawakened Inhuman, Malrick spared no one. Each devoured spark of life was cataloged within the mory Matriarch, the repository of all his evolving genetic data.
The clone advanced rapidly, stabilizing at the 16x gene threshold and receiving sweeping enhancents. Every living form on Earth was now a part of him.
But there were exceptions.
When Banner's blood entered the system, the results were… unstable. Unlike other samples, the virus could not reproduce the Hulk directly. Instead, the transformations skewed into unstable forms—Abomination-like mutations, or hulks tinged red or gray. No matter how many tis Malrick forced the virus to recombine fragnts, the results never aligned with the original.
The truth was inescapable: Bruce Banner's Hulk was different. His power was not rely genetic—it touched sothing deeper. Sothing primal. Sothing that even Malrick's precision could not dissect.
Once Earth's biosphere was fully integrated, Malrick's focus shifted outward. He recalled the Super-Skrull, who had been tasked with gathering tissue samples from alien races. When the data was processed and consud, the Blacklight clone pushed forward again, reaching the 20x gene level.
And yet, Malrick found himself unimpressed.
"These so-called cosmic beings," he muttered, frowning. "Tens of thousands of races, but very few can lift even a ton. No wonder the Guardians of the Galaxy can run circles around the galaxy."
Still, weak or not, they were useful. He ordered the Super-Skrull to continue his harvest.
But privately, he doubted even a full sweep of the universe's ordinary life would be enough. The clone could evolve, yes, but it would never catch up to his true body without sothing greater—without gods.
Odin. Zeus. Their kind held power he needed.
And then there were beings like Dormammu. Malrick chuckled at the thought. "If only he hadn't retreated so quickly. I'd have liked a taste. Though… he's an energy lifeform. Would the virus even work on him? Hm. Another problem for later."
With a sigh, he turned his attention back to sothing simpler: ho.
Today wasn't about experints or power. It was about dinner.
The first Saturday of November had arrived, and with it ca two long-awaited visits—the Parkers and the Maximoff twins. Wanda and Pietro would be handing over their blood samples, while Peter Parker and his Aunt May were finally coming by as promised.
Before returning, Malrick had even extended an invitation to the sorcerers. But Wong and Mordo declined imdiately, still obsessed with shaping Kamar-Taj's new pocket dinsion. He couldn't bla them—building a world from scratch wasn't exactly sothing you could walk away from.
By the ti Malrick arrived at his apartnt, the scent of food greeted him at the door.
Natasha had already laid out the evening's feast: lemon sea bass with mousse cakes, roasted bread, and a spread that would make any restaurant blush. Yelena, anwhile, had claid the sofa with Sherry perched in her lap. The two were laughing uproariously at "Tom and Jerry," their voices rising above the clatter of pans in the kitchen.
"Yelena," Malrick said, dropping onto the couch beside her, "you're just going to sit here with Sherry and let Natasha cook everything?" Get full chapters from novelfire(.)net
He tapped her lightly on the head.
"Hey!" Yelena yelped, grabbing Sherry's little hand and pressing it against the spot. "Boss, you just got back and the first thing you do is hit ?" She gave him an exaggerated pout. "And you're not helping either!"
Malrick raised an eyebrow. "What did you call ?"
"...Boss?" she guessed nervously.
"And what exactly does a boss do?" he pressed.
Yelena puffed her cheeks. "A boss makes the subordinates work nonstop—" She caught herself mid-sentence. Her shoulders slumped, the act fading. "Alright, alright, I get it."
With the drama of a stage actress, she gently set Shirley on the sofa, dragging her feet toward the kitchen as though carrying the weight of the world. "Fine, I'll help. Sherry, don't laugh too hard without , okay?"
Malrick shook his head, amused. He was about to call her back when the doorbell rang.
Instantly, Yelena sprang to life, her golden hair gleaming as she darted for the door like an eager child.
Malrick exchanged a look with Sherry. "Your sister Yelena is actually a fool, isn't she?"
Sherry nodded solemnly. "Mm-hmm."
"Then you'd better look after her," he chuckled.
The door swung open, and their guests spilled inside. The Parkers and the Maximoffs had arrived almost at once.
Introductions were quick. For Malrick, the Parker family was already familiar—Peter and his aunt, May. She had co bearing gifts and gratitude, thanking Malrick for helping Peter settle in at school.
Six-year-old Peter shyly echoed her thanks before his eyes wandered to the Iron Man masks mounted on the wall.
Sherry, arms folded like a little queen, dismissed the praise with a shake of her head. "It wasn't much. The bullies realized their mistakes. I just… encouraged them to rember it."
Most would have laughed it off, but May knew of Sherry's reputation as "the Queenpin of the School." She smiled knowingly, even giving a proud thumbs-up.
anwhile, the Maximoffs stayed quiet, standing to the side. Pietro leaned down to whisper to Peter, his voice carrying a playful edge.
"What's so great about Iron Man? Quicksilver is way cooler."
Peter blinked, torn between politeness and genuine curiosity.
And from across the room, Wanda's gaze lingered on Malrick—soft, uncertain, thoughtful.
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Happy New Month.
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