Cloning really wasn't an option; Leo's cunning shortcut had been completely blocked.
He'd originally thought that if Steve could be cloned, he'd hit the jackpot.
If a Steve — a man whose mutation was later triggered by drugs — could be replicated, then what about the many mutants who carry innate mutated genes?
If they could be cloned and awakened, Leo's empire would explode overnight.
Endless superpowers, constant fusions — he'd be unstoppable.
Unfortunately, that shortcut was closed. Heaven doesn't allow that kind of bug to exist.
If anyone could be cloned and instantly given superpowers, the world would descend into chaos.
Leo pouted. No free lunches. Fine — forget it.
Mutants are still people. If cloning them doesn't result in awakened powers, what's the point? It's better to wait for ordinary people to awaken naturally.
Every ordinary person might carry recessive mutant genes.
The Celestials seeded the baseline; anyone could potentially awaken.
The problem was, Celestials had bungled things so badly that some of their creations now possessed power enough to slay gods.
Forcing awakening was reckless and rare — it usually required massive upheaval or extreme emotional triggers.
So Leo decided not to obsess over cloning for awakening.
"Red Queen, use these Brooklyn guys as test subjects for the Super T-Virus serum experiments," he ordered.
[Destroyer System: Understood. Converting available subjects to experimental queue.]
"If these Steves succeed, then ordinary people could succeed. And at least we'll recycle them after cloning," Leo added. They couldn't just let those cloned bodies go to waste.
Red Queen — the facility's management AI — complied and pushed to maximize the uses of everything on hand.
"But there are only a few of them," Red Queen warned. "We need a large number of test subjects."
Experiments needed scale. Alice had been a special case; the T-Virus worked for her genes but failed catastrophically in most others.
Red Queen was right — they needed many data points.
Leo stroked his chin, thinking. Then he smiled. "Don't worry. I'll bring a large number of test subjects soon."
His plan was simple: death row inmates and lifers.
People society had already written off. While they were technically destined to die, their final usefulness could be service to science.
"Okay. Awaiting your command, Master."
[Destroyer System: Awaiting further instructions.]
Terminator TX was nearby, an expressionless enforcer unit. Leo called him over.
"TX, come here."
Thump-thump-thump. TX approached mechanically — no smile, no affect. Not even a T-800's deadpan charm. He was pure efficiency.
"Boss, orders?" TX asked in his emotionless monotone.
Leo outlined the plan. "I'm going to a few prisons to collect inmates.
When the portal teleports violent convicts in, keep them contained.
If they resist, break their legs — do whatever it takes to immobilize, but don't kill. We need to test limb regeneration."
TX, built for brutality and precision, nodded immediately. "Yes, Boss."
Robbing death row inmates wasn't exactly difficult for Leo.
He had the tech and the means; it was all about logistics and discretion.
Rikers Island—the notorious New York prison on its isolated patch of water—was the perfect place to start.
Twelve thousand prisoners lived there, including over eight hundred serious offenders. It was infamous for its lack of mercy.
Stabbings, murders, assaults on guards—none of it was unusual.
The guards sometimes used the prisoners themselves to enforce order; the place was a law unto itself.
The serious offenders were ideal candidates: physically tough, mentally hardened, and perfect for a risky experiment.
On that bright day at Rikers, recreation hour had turned into a blood-sport spectacle.
Two inmates were duking it out in a makeshift ring.
Their eyes were red and fierce; their faces smeared with sweat and whatever they'd used as "ketchup."
A ring of other prisoners cheered and jeered, hungry for the violence.
"Peter! Choke him! Stick a finger in his eye!" one shouted.
"F*ck you, Des! Give him a kick below! Make him scream!" another yelled.
"Winner gets a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of vodka — don't hold back!" someone cried.
The crowd went feral. A pack of cigarettes and a bottle of booze were enough to send them berserk.
Leo observed from his concealed portal vantage, taking notes.
The energy here was raw and unrefined — ideal for stress-testing a regenerative bio-agent.
He quirked a smile and keyed the transmission to TX. "[Deploy extraction portal. Target: five convicts in the southeast yard. Priority: survival, followed by containment.]"
TX's servos activated.
In an instant several silent, circular ripples tore open in empty air; like hungry mouths, they swallowed a handful of fighters and spat them out into secure containment pods on-site at the Hive Base.
The prisoners woke up angry, cuffed, and confused — perfect. Not dead. Exactly as Leo ordered.
He watched the data flow in: vitals stable, adrenaline spiking, resistance levels high. This was the chaos he needed.
Inside the Hive Base, the research team prepared the Super T-Virus protocol.
The first batch would be surgical — limb damage simulated, then apply the serum, then observe regeneration rates, side effects, and mutation triggers.
If the virus prompted regenerative growth, great.
If it triggered gene instability or monstrous mutation, they'd pull back and redesign.
The world wasn't ready for uncontrolled monstrosities.
Leo's mind ticked through contingencies. Failures had been costly before.
This would be different: more subjects, better monitoring, and one immutable rule — never let the test subjects loose.
He flexed his fingers and allowed himself a short, satisfied grin.
"If this works," he murmured, "we'll have something more valuable than cloned Steves. Ordinary people who can regenerate, adapt, and be controlled."
Red Queen's lights blinked. [Experimental queue initialized. Preparing containment suites and emergency protocols.]
TX stood by the observation window, unblinking, a living instrument of enforcement and brutality.
Outside, Rikers returned to its ritual of savagery — temporarily missing a few of its worst players.
The crowd would soon notice the absence, but by then Leo planned to be long gone and counting results.
For now, the prison storm had begun.
...
Author's Note:
The full completed version of Marvel: My Drawer Is Full of Infinite Gems! is now on Patreon!
🔗 patreon.com/Shadow_demon_007
Thank you for your support! 💙