The leaves shifted.
Somewhere above, the dense canopy of the artificial jungle trembled, rustling under the hidden breeze of the humidifiers. Shadows flickered across the false sunlight as something moved swiftly, deliberately, and very much alive.
Dexter adjusted his glasses and kept his gaze fixed on the source of movement.
"Monkey," he called again, calm and steady.
A blur dropped from the foliage.
Monkey landed lightly on his feet just a few steps away. His big, curious eyes studied Dexter with that mixture of loyalty and restlessness only he seemed capable of.
"Good. You came quickly this time," Dexter said, stepping forward.
Monkey tilted his head, clearly expecting a snack but what he got instead was a pair of latex gloves snapping into place.
"Hold still," Dexter muttered.
He retrieved a compact kit from his belt. Inside was a micro-lancet, sterile vial, and a compact saliva swab. Years of habit made his hands precise, just enough prick at the arm to collect a droplet of blood, then a quick swab from the mouth. Monkey gave a short noise of protest, but it was over in seconds.
"Perfect," Dexter murmured, already sealing the samples.
______
Back in the main lab chamber, the jungle doors hissed shut behind him. The samples were transferred immediately to the sterile prep station, a gleaming surface beneath bright white light.
He slid the blood sample into the centrifuge, the glass tube spinning until the red separated into pale yellow plasma and a dark layer of cells. The saliva sample was placed on a transparent slide, loaded under a high-powered molecular scope.
On the monitor, Monkey's cells came into view, tight clusters of primate DNA wrapped around histone coils. Dexter activated a spectral scanner, and the image fractured into layered colors, highlighting unusual regions.
"There it is again…" he muttered.
The sequence was unlike standard primate genetics. Hidden within certain cell chains were luminous, branching structures, microscopic lattice-like formations within the DNA itself. He'd been calling them 'Supergenes' rare strands that acted like dormant instructions for extraordinary biological capabilities.
If the X-gene of certain comic universes granted powers in mutants, then these were its real-world equivalent.
Except…
Dexter began running compatibility simulations. The results streamed across the screen:
HUMAN ADAPTABILITY INDEX: 32%
He frowned. The number had barely moved from his earlier trials. "Too low for safe implementation," he muttered.
He knew why. The supergene in Monkey's DNA was primate-based close to human but not close enough. Attempting to force integration would risk cellular rejection, organ failure… or worse.... death.
It wasn't the first time he'd dealt with dangerous bioengineering. His mind flashed back to one of his older self "brilliant" ideas—the Mutating Agent. He and Mandark had actually teamed up to take down their common foe, Soyen Chen. The plan was simple: create a neon-green concoction that, when applied, would overload the victim's coordination by making them sprout multiple mutant arms. Mandark supplied the ridiculous liquid squirt gun while Dexter supplied the formula.
It had worked flawlessly… until the crossfire. In the chaos, a splash of the agent hit both of them. Within seconds, they were staggering around the lab with hideous extra arms growing from their sides, twitching uncontrollably and knocking over expensive machinery. The reversal process took hours, and Soyen Chen had walked away without a scratch.
Dexter shook his head at the memory. Good thing he'd fixed that mistake but it was a constant reminder of how easily bioengineering could spiral into disaster.
He turned back to the monitor, re-running the gene model. Compatibility, replication rate, protein folding stability all still unacceptable.
Hours passed.
Test serum after test serum failed in the simulation phase. One sequence destabilized instantly. Another caused runaway cell growth. One even simulated the subject growing a tail… in the forehead.
The floor around his chair filled with crushed cans of cold coffee, the bitter smell mixing with the metallic tang of lab air.
Finally, he slumped forward, head resting on his folded arms.
"…still no success."
The computer's built-in clock suddenly blared.
[07:00 AM]
Dexter groaned, rubbing his eyes. "It's already morning…?"
He looked at the mess, empty containers, open notebooks, dozens of rejected formula vials and sighed.
He pulled off his lab coat, tossed his gloves into the disposal unit, and stepped into the elevator. The lift ascended smoothly, its doors opening behind the familiar hidden bookshelf. He emerged into his room like nothing had happened, swapping into casual clothes.
Downstairs, the warm smell of breakfast greeted him toast, butter, and the faint sizzle of bacon. His father sat on the couch, coffee in one hand while his eyes on the television.
"Good morning, Dad," Dexter said, walking past.
"Morning, Dexter," his father replied without looking away. "Up early again?"
Dexter only hummed and continued into the kitchen. His mother was at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced precision.
"Good morning, Mom," he greeted.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she replied with a smile.
Dexter opened the fridge, poured cold water into a glass, and drank deeply. "Where's Dee Dee?"
"She's still asleep," his mother answered, plating a fresh stack of pancakes.
Dexter grabbed a slice of toast from the counter, biting into it as he moved to the kitchen table.
"Hmm?"
The television in the living room caught his attention not for the usual background noise, but for the urgent tone of the reporter's voice.
The screen showed a man with disheveled hair standing in front of a large construction site. Behind him loomed the completed statue of Metro Man.
"We are live at the unveiling site for the new Metro Man statue," the reporter said breathlessly, "but right now, chaos has erupted, Megamind is attempting to foil the ceremony and has taken one of our own newscasters hostage!"
The camera feed cut to a dark, swirling cloud high over the statue. In the center of the vapor loomed Megamind's massive projected face, blue skin and sharp grin dominating the skyline.
Dexter leaned forward in his chair.
The projection shifted now showing a bound woman strapped to a chair in a dimly lit lair. Megamind paced around her theatrically, holding up absurd devices of questionable function: a rotating fan of knives, a contraption that sprayed whipped cream, and something that looked suspiciously like a giant rubber chicken.
None of it made the woman flinch.
Dexter's eyes narrowed, this was straight from the movie he remembered only now it was real.
Megamind's voice boomed over the scene:
"Come now, Metro Man! If you want her back, you'll have to find me! Or else she'll face the wrath of my… death ray!"
Dexter almost snorted. "He's theatrical as ever."
The feed cut back outside. Metro Man had arrived, standing confidently before the crowd, cape flowing in the wind. He scanned the sky, eyes locking on Megamind's projection.
The villain's taunting continued until finally, Metro Man flew off in pursuit straight toward the trap Dexter knew was coming.
On the news camera, a massive energy beam erupted from a disguised tower. The explosion was blinding, engulfing Metro Man entirely.
The crowd screamed as the dust settled. There was no sign of the hero.
Dexter bit down on the last piece of his toast and muttered, "He really does commit to the act."
"Dexter, can you take the trash out?" his mother called from the stove.
He sighed, still watching the replay of the beam strike. "Sure, Mom."
Grabbing the bin bag, he stepped outside, the morning sun already bright. Inside his head, the scene replayed again, this was the turning point in the original story but now that there are many universe combine in it... what will happen?