The tal was the color of ordinary iron, roughly the size of two fists, sealed beneath a glass do. At first glance it seed unremarkable, yet every polished edge and dull surface hinted at sothing dangerous. It was one of the only substances outside vibranium that could interact with the sixth pupil ring, and for that reason it held Kurogai's full attention.
"What is this tal?" Kurogai asked, stepping closer. He pointed at the piece under glass with a long-fingered hand, curiosity plain in his voice.
Rogue, who had beco his right hand in small things and large, flicked through her tablet and read aloud, "According to the records this is a newly cataloged alloy, rare and poorly understood. Its properties are unusual, it is highly toxic, it suppresses biological regeneration, and those with strong healing factors struggle when exposed."
Hearing that, Kurogai's expression hardened. He had expected peculiarities, but hearing the alloy could blunt regeneration sounded like a confirmation of his mory. In another life, other nas, he had seen a similar substance called carbonadium, a material infamous for its ability to hamper even the fastest healers. The na carbonadium sat in Kurogai's mind like a dull ache, because he knew what that alloy could do in the right hands.
Rogue continued, "It was discovered by accident, the origin is vague, and supply is almost non-existent. Only a few fragnts have ever been accounted for."
Kurogai did not need more. If this was carbonadium, it could be the key the sixth ring required. He only asked one practical question next, "How much of it do we have?"
Rogue shook her head, frustration plain, "Scarcer than vibranium, even. There's almost none in circulation. Few people have any, and what they have, they guard."
Kurogai let out a sound that might have been a laugh if it were less dry, "So it seems we must give up on this one, then." Even if the alloy could trigger the ring, without quantity it was useless. The pragmatic part of him accepted the loss easily. He did not like wasting effort on impossibilities.
Rogue's face brightened a fraction, and she hurried to the side cabinet, producing a compact crate wrapped in reinforced polyr. "Not all bad news. We recovered so vibranium recently, about the size of a box. These were circulated, ca through Wakanda originally."
Kurogai's shoulders eased. He always appreciated results, even small ones. He allowed himself a short, satisfied smile and accepted the crate. He absorbed the vibranium and the fragnt of the alloy into the ring with controlled focus, but the sixth pupil ring gave no reaction. That was not surprising. This final stage had always demanded far more material and more precise conditions.
He had expected this outco. The alloy was a welco, unexpected lead, but the gene transformation project remained his priority. Everything else was incidental.
"Did you pull the files on death row inmates, like I asked?" Kurogai asked, turning from the display to Rogue and Susan. He had asked them to compile a list discreetly, because he preferred not to run the experint through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official channels.
Rogue produced a palmtop and flipped through the encrypted manifest, "Already prepared. I'll bring it up now."
Kurogai scanned the list with brisk efficiency. "Los Angeles Penitentiary, one in five death row inmates available," he murmured. The numbers and nas clicked into place in his planning mind. Those prisoners, condemned and not yet executed, were perfect vectors. They had nothing left to lose and the system treated them as expendable.
There was another option, one that sat at the edge of his darker thoughts. He could transform ordinary citizens, flood the streets with mutants and remake the world. The world's history with mutants had never been peaceful. The friction alone would spawn chaos, and chaos never served his aims. He preferred calculations and control; he preferred to manufacture power in a laboratory rather than let it spill unpredictably into the masses.
If in the future the third pupil ring demanded a greater supply of mutant genes, he might reconsider a wholesale change, but for now the benefits were negligible and the risks intolerable. He would not be the author of needless turmoil, not yet.
"I'll go to the prison," Kurogai said finally, voice flat with focus. "You two stay and continue the work here."
With that he opened a space-door, the familiar shimr of his private transport, and stepped into it. The manor swallowed the sound of his departure as the portal closed behind him. For now the lab would hum on without him, and the ring would bide its ti.
He thought, briefly, of the alloy, of carbonadium's peculiar properties and the mory of blades in another universe. In that other life, there had been knives that could cut through nearly anything and that even a powerful regenerator had to account for, and their presence had left him cautious and curious in equal asure. That caution would guide his actions at the Los Angeles facility. The experint would be surgical, efficient, and controlled. There would be no spectacle, only results.
The manor returned to its soft chanical whirring, Rogue and Susan trading terse updates over the lab console. Outside, the city continued its indifferent rhythm. Kurogai moved through its heart like a surgeon, heading to a place where death had already been decreed, where lives had been labelled expendable, and where his next leap forward might finally be possible.
He had the vibranium, he had a fragnt of alloy that promised sothing, and he had a target. That, in itself, was enough to keep him moving.
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