Chapter 15
I floated in oblivion, and it was bliss. It seemed to me that I was swimming through endless, vast space. It was dark all around, but it was not frightening. The rare sparks of dim little stars created a certain sense of movement in this endless void. There was no fear, no pain, no rage, no hatred, nothing. Only peace and space. Space and tranquility...
It was divinely pleasant.
But unfortunately, everything ends. This state ended too. I began to come to my senses. But I know one thing for sure—now I am not afraid of death. Whenever it may come. After all, when I die, I will return there. To where this boundlessness and peace exist. Perhaps there will be something else. I do not know, but now I am not afraid.
* * *
"Happy rebirth, Mr. Creed," Johann's voice rang out. "This is not an exaggeration. You were dead for about five minutes. Your heart was not beating. There was no breathing. Your pupils did not react to light. Clinical death, as this condition is also called." The voice was unpleasantly loud. The lighting in the room was too bright. The smells were too saturated. My body tingled as if from thousands of needles.
"How long..." I croaked. "How long was I... unconscious?" My tongue moved with difficulty, but the German understood me.
"Seventy-eight hours, Mr. Creed," Schmidt replied.
"And... how is it?"
"What exactly?"
"Did I remain... human?"
"Were you one?" he smiled sarcastically.
"...humanoid," I corrected myself. The question truly interested me, because I was unable to look at myself.
"Do not worry, you did," he chuckled.
"And in general?"
"The result is interesting, but I am disappointed: the acceleration of regeneration is only fifty percent. Tissue density—forty. Hardness of claws—forty-five. Hair covering fell out completely. Muscle mass decreased by fifteen percent. Height decreased by two centimeters. Fangs also slightly decreased in size. There is an increase, but a miracle did not happen. It cannot be compared to the first application of the serum. A pity, it was a promising experiment."
"How so? After all, your formula is not Erskine's, the one he applied to Rogers, but yours, the one you tested on yourself, Herr Schmidt," I decided to keep the conversation going. I was already exposed anyway, and being an "animal" had slightly tired me out over these months.
"That was the whole point of interest!" Johann replied. "Judging by my data, Erskine's final formula was weaker. That coward artificially weakened the effect of the serum after what he considered 'unsuccessful' tests on me. What you and he called the 'super soldier serum' is faintly tinted water compared to our initial development. Ours worked immediately without any vita-rays. So I became curious what would happen if both formulas were combined in one test subject."
"I will disappoint you, Herr Schmidt," I stretched my lips into a mirthless smile. "Erskine's formula was not tested on me. I am a natural mutant, just as Dr. Klaus assumed."
"Not true," he replied calmly. "Analyses show clear traces of alterations to your body."
"That was Issei's doing. I think you know him."
"The mage? Amazing. His work is impressive," he said thoughtfully, examining me. And I did not like his look. Johann broke into a smile. "But this means the experiment has just begun! Even though I don't have Abraham's weakened serum, I can prepare a second dose of my version, and I will!" With these words, he rapidly left my laboratory and rushed into the adjacent one.
"My tongue is my enemy"—the thought came for the umpteenth time, correct, but belated.
* * *
"Mr. Creed," Herr Schmidt broke into a smile. Only not Johann, but Klaus. "A brilliant actor died within you!"
I slanted my eyes at him. It was impossible to do this frowningly, since my head was fixed in place, and this mustached bastard stood in an inconvenient position for viewing.
"But how pleasant it is to wipe the nose of this upstart from Hydra!"
"With what?" I could not resist.
"With the fact that I told him about the natural origin of your mutation, and he, like a stupid ram, stubbornly stuck to his serum. And who is right in the end?"
"You are, Herr Schmidt," I admitted.
"Exactly!!" he raised his finger to the ceiling.
"But you deemed me unpromising. That is what he said."
"I deemed a mindless, aggressive animal as such," he said instructively. "But a sentient, rational mutant—that is a completely different matter!"
"How so?"
"Mutants are extremely rare. And their abilities stagger the imagination. And if they are developed and used wisely... Would you like me to introduce you to another representative of your species?"
"We have a species?" I was surprised.
"We do," he smiled. "All mutants are a single species, capable of having common offspring that inherit the traits of the species."
"Abilities are inherited?" I was genuinely surprised.
"No. I must admit that abilities are unique and unpredictable for each mutant. But they have a certain hereditary similarity. The very possibility of having abilities is inherited. But still: mutants are a single species."
"I see..." I thought about it. "I do. Introduce us."
"With whom?" Klaus faltered.
"With another representative of my species. You just offered..."
"Ah! Right! I completely lost my train of thought," he chuckled into his mustache and moved toward the door at a brisk pace. He opened it and disappeared from my field of attention for a while. Then he returned, leading in front of him a skinny kid in a striped robe with a number sewn on the right side.
"Meet Max Eisenhardt," he pointed to the teenager. "And this is Victor Creed," he pointed at me now. "He is also a mutant and possesses a most amazing ability!"
"And what can he do?" Max asked in a cracking voice.
"He possesses the highest level of regeneration. He is capable of restoring lost organs and even whole body parts."
"Then why is he chained?"
"Because more than half of the truly strong fighters had to be pulled from the fronts to capture him. And even then, it was not without losses. Before being captured, he killed almost a third of the dispatched group."
"It is just more convenient for them to cut organs out of me this way," I allowed myself to interrupt the doctor.
"That too," Schmidt did not deny. "But a fact is a fact: you are not alone! You both are not alone!"
"Not the most pleasant circumstances to find this out," I threw my two cents into his piggy bank of shillings and marks.
"That is surmountable!" he replied significantly. "But you are right, Mr. Creed. That is enough for today. Herr Schmidt must already be finishing his precious mixture," with these words, he led the teenager out and left himself.
I relaxed my neck muscles and closed my eyes. Let's hope that the barely audible click in my shackles on my right hand, which sounded at the moment the conversation ended, was heard only by me.
* * *