----
The Ant-Man suit had only two key components.
One of Scott Lang's advanced body suits, capable of size manipulation. Two the insect command helt, that sleek, bug-eyed mask he always wore.
But what really had Nolan's attention was the Pym Particles.
In the Marvel universe, no shortage of tech defied all scientific logic black box miracles that simply worked, even if no one could explain how.
Pym Particles were exactly that.
Microscopic subatomic constructs, capable of compressing and expanding physical matter. Developed by Dr. Hank Pym, the founder of Pym Technologies. Hence the na.
As far as Nolan could tell, the events of Ant-Man had already played out. The company was now run by Hank's daughter, Hope van Dyne. And both father and daughter treated Pym Particles as top-secret, world-shifting tech believing it was too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands.
They'd erased all trails. Nolan had tried to believe him but couldn't find a single lead.
Who would've thought the tech would just walk right through his front door?
He quickly reverse-engineered the controls, extracted a vial of glowing crimson fluid from Scott's belt, and held it up to the light.
"So this... is Pym Particles."
He stared at the swirling liquid. Every cell in his body buzzed with curiosity. But he held back. No matter how eager he was, research had to be thodical.
Besides, it wouldn't help him yet.
What he really wanted was sothing more volatile say, Sunspot's solar core or Sebastian Shaw's kinetic energy absorption.
Imagine shrinking a star and storing it inside his own body.
He wouldn't just be a superhuman.
He'd be a walking stellar reactor.
He exhaled slowly. "One step at a ti. Let's start with the dragon bone."
Just then, his terminal beeped.
Incoming ssage.
He glanced over.
Sender: Steve Rogers.
"...Getting desperate already?" Nolan muttered. "I'll get back to him later."
Right now, he was more focused on sothing far more critical calculating how to transplant the dragon bone into his own coccyx, the vestigial structure at the base of the spine.
He was about to call in Connors when Scott, bless his clumsy heart, accidentally shorted his belt. Nolan had to intervene personally so Max wouldn't blow him across the city by mistake.
"Connors, I need you in the lab. I've got a surgical plan to go over."
---
anwhile, elsewhere...
"Scott's been captured," Steve Rogers said grimly, slamming a fist on the table. He stared at the screen still no response from Nolan.
He clenched his jaw. This was his responsibility. Scott had gone into Oscorp on his mission.
"I'm going to get him back."
"I'm coming too," Clint Barton said imdiately.
"Count in," added Sam Wilson.
But before either could move, Natasha Romanoff stepped forward and shook her head.
"Sending in more people will just make things worse," she said coolly. "Only one person should go with Steve."
"You an... Wanda?" Sam realized.
The most powerful asset they had—Wanda Maximoff.
Her power had no visible ceiling. If anyone could stand up to Nolan, it was her.
"But Wanda..." Sam hesitated. She hadn't forgiven herself after the Crossbones incident when her Chaos Magic redirected a bomb skyward, only for it to explode and destroy an entire building.
She'd gone into self-imposed isolation afterward, blaming herself not only for the deaths but for dividing the Avengers.
"Will she even agree to go?" Clint asked.
Natasha's voice was low and firm. "This isn't a personal favor. This is Nick Fury's assessnt. Nolan is a pure pragmatist. He doesn't act out of morality—only utility. If you want to deal with him, you need leverage. And right now, Wanda's the only thing he might respect... or fear."
Steve drew in a slow breath. "I'll talk to her. Scott's in trouble because of . I won't let him rot in a cage."
---
Back at Oscorp...
Dr. Curt Connors examined the data on Nolan's screen, eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"You're really doing this?" he asked. "Boss, there's only one sample of this bone. You're going to implant it without any controlled testing?"
He didn't understand why Nolan was pushing this so suddenly. There were no repeat trials and no simulated insertions. Just raw integration of an alien bio-elent into a human spine.
"You don't have to worry," Nolan said calmly. "I've already run the models. This is the next step. We've hit a ceiling in our study of demonic energy. This procedure could break us through it."
He tapped the screen and explained as Connors followed along.
"During infancy, several coccygeal vertebrae fuse into one. This is common in mammals. The fusion point is biologically inactive in adults, making it perfect for the implant."
"But that's natural fusion. This dragon bone is foreign tissue. Your body might reject it."
"Logan had his entire skeleton coated in adamantium," Nolan countered. "I'm implanting a single fragnt. My regenerative factor will handle any cellular resistance."
He leaned in. "We've also run simulations. My healing gene resists immune rejection. The structure of the dragon bone is hexagonal like a honeycomb. Very similar to real bone, just denser and more organized."
Connors nodded reluctantly. Nolan had clearly done his howork.
When he'd read through the entire surgical plan, Nolan looked him dead in the eye.
"You'll lead the procedure."
"What?"
"No anesthesia," Nolan added. "You'll perform the implant. If you're unsure about anything, ask but your hands will do the cutting."
Connors swallowed hard.
He could do it. Technically, it wasn't even the most complex operation he'd perford. But the subject... was Nolan. If he failed...
"I'll do my best."
"Not good enough. You will succeed," Nolan said, his tone still calm. "You're a genius, Curt. In biology, there's nothing you can't do only things you won't attempt."
As word spread, Norman arrived.
He rembered the last ti Nolan had put himself on the table when he injected himself with the Jessica serum. That mont changed Norman's perception of him forever.
He thought that was the limit.
But now, watching Nolan prepare to graft an unknown bone into his own spine, Norman realized sothing else:
There was no limit.
Nolan lay down on the surgical table, perfectly composed. Connors, dressed in sterile gear, reviewed the surgical layout one last ti.
"You're here. Good. Help out," Nolan said to Norman, without turning.
Norman bit back his protest. Nolan had made up his mind.
All he could do now was help ensure it didn't end in disaster.
"Comnce dragon bone transplant," Nolan said.
Connors picked up the vibranium scalpel, hands steady.
He made the first incision at the base of Nolan's spine. Blood pooled, but not for long the tissue began healing imdiately, forcing him to cut again and again just to keep access open.
Pain flared across Nolan's face but he didn't flinch.
He lay still, ntally tracking every movent, every shift of the blade.
He didn't need to look. He knew Connors' every move.
----
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