Chapter 11: The Confrontation
"Test subject seven begins now."
"Reduce the serum concentration by fifteen percent, activate the bioelectric field to stimulate cellular regeneration, and inject the nutrient solution simultaneously with the serum."
"Commencing injection."
After administering both the serum and nutrients, Rory immediately activated the electrical system. The generator hummed to life, converting standard current into precise bioelectric pulses that coursed through the containment chamber, stimulating the white mouse trapped inside.
The mouse began squeaking frantically.
The louder it squeaked, the more excited Rory became—not from any sadistic pleasure, but because the creature's ability to vocalize meant it was still alive. Every previous test subject had died within minutes.
If this one survived, it would mean his experiment had finally achieved a breakthrough.
"Squeak! Squeak!"
"CRASH!"
The reinforced metal container holding the mouse suddenly burst apart, and a creature the size of a small dog collapsed inside the tempered glass observation chamber, gasping heavily.
The thing that had once been a laboratory mouse was now breathing raggedly on the floor, its chest heaving with labored breaths. Its eyes had turned blood red and seemed to glare at Rory with unmistakable malevolence.
"Son of a bitch!"
Rory had anticipated that his research might create something dangerous, so he'd prepared contingencies. He immediately slammed his palm down on a red emergency button.
A mechanical whirring sound filled the air as several steel blast shields began sliding closed around the containment area.
"BANG!"
"BANG!"
"BANG!"
Just as the shields were about to seal completely, the mutated creature suddenly lurched to its feet and began hurling itself against the tempered glass walls with tremendous force.
"CRACK!"
A spider web of fractures spread across the glass, making Rory's heart skip a beat.
"CLANG!"
Fortunately, the blast shields slammed shut at the last possible moment, and the creature, mid-leap toward freedom, crashed headfirst into solid vibranium-reinforced steel plating.
The impact was so violent that it knocked the thing unconscious.
While the test subject lay motionless, Rory carefully extracted a blood sample using a vibranium needle—one of the few materials that could penetrate the creature's enhanced hide. He placed some of the sample in a cryogenic storage tube and prepared the rest for immediate microscopic analysis.
After recording his data and grabbing a quick meal, Rory packed up his research materials and left the laboratory with a leather briefcase in hand.
His contract renewal meeting with Stark Industries was scheduled for today, and the briefcase contained samples of a legitimate antidepressant he'd developed as cover for his real work.
It wasn't revolutionary technology, but it would be profitable enough to keep Howard's investment department satisfied.
He took a cab to Stark Tower and explained his purpose to the receptionist.
Within three minutes, the investment manager he'd been working with came rushing down to the lobby, his face flushed with anger.
"You lying son of a bitch! Not only am I pulling our entire investment, I'm also filing a lawsuit against you for fraud!" the manager shouted.
Rory calmly lifted his briefcase. "The latest pharmaceutical has been completed. Once it passes clinical trials, you, me, and Stark Industries will all be considerably wealthier."
"What kind of bullshit are you trying to sell me now?" the investment manager demanded, his expression skeptical. "I sent people to check your laboratory last week—the place was completely abandoned. How could you possibly have..."
Rory shrugged. "The facilities there were inadequate and the space was too cramped. I simply relocated to a better-equipped laboratory and forgot to update you. There's no need for such hostility."
"Hmm. Well... I suppose that makes sense." The investment manager's demeanor shifted dramatically. He quickly arranged for his assistant to escort Rory to a conference room while he went to brief his supervisor on the situation.
Ten minutes later, Steve Rogers received word of Rory's appearance at Stark Tower through the communication network Peggy had established.
When Steve arrived, Rory was in the middle of presenting the efficacy data and development costs of his antidepressant to Stark's investment team.
"Gentlemen, according to recent psychiatric studies, over one hundred out of every thousand Americans require some form of antidepressant medication," Rory explained, gesturing to charts and graphs spread across the conference table.
"These are the most commonly prescribed antidepressants currently on the market. Nearly all of them produce significant side effects—weight gain, sexual dysfunction, gastrointestinal distress, chronic fatigue, or severe insomnia."
"However, this new compound produces minimal, virtually negligible side effects while maintaining superior therapeutic effectiveness."
"BANG!"
The conference room door suddenly burst open as Steve Rogers stormed in.
Behind him came Peggy Carter and Howard Stark himself.
The investment manager immediately stood up when he saw Howard, but the industrialist simply waved him away. The manager quickly gathered his papers and left the room, thoughtfully closing the door behind him.
Rory casually tossed his presentation pen onto the table. "Steve, why do you keep haunting me like some kind of ghost? Now that you're back from the dead, shouldn't you be focusing on Ms. Carter here instead of stalking me around New York?"
Before Steve could respond, Peggy stepped forward. "How do you know who I am?"
Rory's smile was cold. "Of course I know you, Agent Carter. Co-founder of the Strategic Scientific Reserve and Captain America's legendary lost love. Your reputation precedes you."
"Shut up! Don't say another word!" Steve interrupted sharply, worried that Rory might reveal something about time travel if he continued talking.
Rory leaned back against the conference table, crossing his arms, his gaze flat and challenging.
Steve got straight to the point. "Rory, what have you really been working on these past few months?"
Steve possessed an unwavering moral compass, though many considered his black-and-white worldview somewhat naive. He believed in sacrificing the needs of the few for the greater good—classic American heroic ideology.
He didn't waste time analyzing why villains became villains; once someone crossed the line, Steve believed they needed to be stopped, permanently if necessary.
Rory chuckled darkly. "Excuse me, but who exactly are you? Why should I tell you anything?"
Peggy stepped forward, her voice carrying the authority of her position. "Since you clearly know I'm an SSR agent, you should also know that gives me certain rights. Steve is now operating under SSR authority, which means he has every right to conduct this investigation."
This was how power worked in practice. They could change the rules at any moment and use the full weight of government authority against private individuals.
If you were just an ordinary person with no political connections or resources, how could you possibly resist when they decided to target you?
It was like trying to prove you weren't mentally ill—it didn't matter what you believed about your own sanity; only the doctor's diagnosis counted.
Rory took a deep breath and turned to tap his briefcase. "Look, if you want to live comfortably in this world, you need money. I'm making money through legitimate pharmaceutical research. Do you have a problem with that?"
Steve couldn't understand the technical terminology in Rory's research documents, but his instincts told him not to believe a word of it.
"Rory, I know you're brilliant. You could probably invent advanced technology at will if you wanted to. But you haven't. Instead, it took you three months to develop this... antidepressant. And I know for a fact that you disappeared for weeks during that time—something about an arctic expedition."
"Steve, that's enough!" Rory's expression darkened instantly, his voice turning ice-cold. "What exactly do you want from me? Do you want me to immediately reveal every piece of advanced technology I might know, just so you can sleep better at night? Or would you prefer I create some miraculous invention so you can stand on your moral high ground and accuse me of disrupting the natural order of things?"
"No! Don't get defensive. Just listen to me." Steve realized he'd pushed too hard. He was making accusations based on suspicion and intuition, without any concrete evidence.
But from Rory's perspective, Steve was trying to back him into an impossible corner—damned if he revealed his true capabilities, damned if he didn't.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, and everyone present could sense that this confrontation was far from over.
End of Chapter 11
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