Marvelous Meditations #65

The air inside Maximus Security’s underground gym was thick with the scent of metal, sweat, and ozone from the various machines whirring in the background. The facility was top-of-the-line—reinforced weight racks, state-of-the-art treadmills, and sparring dummies designed to take superhuman punishment.

Nathan stood at the center of it, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to the new weight of his body. Everything felt lighter, sharper, faster. Even the hum of the lights overhead and the distant sound of guards patrolling the halls registered in his mind with startling clarity.

Across from him, Stern trailed behind, tablet in hand, stylus tapping rapidly as he took notes. He was dressed in his usual lab attire—white coat, glasses perched on his nose, and an expression that lingered between scientific fascination and barely restrained glee.

“Alright,” Stern muttered, glancing at his notes before looking up. “Let’s start with the basics—strength. Pick up the biggest thing you can find and try not to embarrass yourself.”

Nathan exhaled through his nose and turned his gaze to the far end of the gym, where a custom-made reinforced weight slab sat on a platform. The thing was meant for testing enhanced individuals, built from dense tungsten alloy and weighing roughly ten tons. The kind of thing a Hulk would scoff at, but most enhanced humans would struggle with.

He stepped forward, bracing himself. He dug his fingers into the metal, feeling the resistance—and then, with an ease that shouldn’t be possible, he lifted.

The massive slab rose from the floor like it was made of styrofoam.

Stern’s stylus paused mid-stroke. “Huh.”

Nathan turned his head slightly, smirking. “That the scientific term for it?”

Stern adjusted his glasses, fascinated. “I expected an increase in strength, but this? You’re lifting ten tons like it’s a fucking paperweight.”

He tapped his tablet. “We’ll need to test your upper limit later, but for now, let’s move on.”

Nathan set the slab down gently—as in, it only made a mild crater in the reinforced floor instead of completely shattering it.

“Reaction speed test next.”

A row of automated turrets along the gym’s walls whirred to life, loaded with non-lethal rounds designed to clock speeds at Mach 3. Normally, even enhanced individuals would struggle to dodge at that speed.

Nathan simply stood there, hands loose at his sides.

The first round fired.

His body moved before his mind consciously processed the attack—a blur of motion, his head tilting just enough for the round to zip past his cheek. Another shot fired, aimed for his ribs. He twisted, weaving through the barrage with unnatural precision.

Stern let out a low whistle as he jotted down notes. “Reflexes are off the charts. You’re predicting the shots before they even fire.”

Nathan said nothing, simply exhaling steadily, his chest rising and falling with measured control. The fire in his blood was constant, coursing through him, making every movement feel fluid, intuitive—like his body knew what to do before he did.

The final round fired—this time, directly at his forehead.

Nathan caught it.

The high-speed round stopped mid-air, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He turned it over once, then flicked it aside.

Stern shook his head, muttering, “Alright, now you’re just showing off.”

Nathan smirked. “You’re the one who wanted to test this.”

Stern didn’t bother arguing, instead scrolling down his list. “Alright, next up—let’s test that heat of yours.”

Nathan rolled his shoulders again. This was the part he was most curious about.

A reinforced heat-resistant panel was lowered from the ceiling—designed to withstand plasma bursts and energy weapons. Stern crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Let’s start small. Controlled output.”

Nathan took a slow breath in. The fire was already there, simmering just beneath the surface. He could feel it coiling in his chest, ready to be unleashed.

He opened his mouth—

And exhaled flame.

At first, it was a stream of flickering heat, like a pilot light, barely enough to register. But as he focused, the flames grew—brighter, hotter, denser. The temperature spiked, warping the air around it. The reinforced panel, meant to withstand thousands of degrees, began to glow red-hot.

Stern took a cautious step back. “Alright, that’s enough—”

Nathan exhaled sharply—and the flame surged.

The panel melted.

The reinforced alloy liquefied under the intensity, dripping onto the floor in a molten pool. Alarms blared in the gym as sensors detected the heat levels exceeding safety parameters.

Nathan snapped his mouth shut. The fire vanished in an instant.

Stern stared at the ruined panel. Then at Nathan. Then back at the still-melting metal.

“…Well, shit.”

Nathan wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, exhaling a bit of smoke. “Think we can get an estimate on that?”

Stern shook his head, muttering, “I don’t think there’s a thermometer in existence that can handle that kind of output.” He adjusted his glasses, still processing what just happened. “You just melted reinforced tungsten alloy in seconds...”

Nathan hummed thoughtfully, rolling his shoulders. “Feels like I can push it even further.”

Stern gave him a dry look. “Yeah, let’s not turn the place into a crater, alright?”

Nathan smirked. “Fair enough....”

Stern sighed, tapping at his tablet. “Alright, I’ve seen enough for today.” he shook his head, almost in disbelief. “This isn’t just Extremis anymore. I added my own twist to the serum, and tried to make it better... but you're taking to it better than I could have imagined... it's like it mixed with your DNA and turned into something else altogether....”

He gave Nathan a pointed look, almost dissecting him with his eyes. “Further testing will be needed...”

Nathan rolled his shoulders, still adjusting to the strange, raw power coursing through his body. He exhaled slowly, watching faint wisps of heat curl from his breath before dissipating into the air.

"Something tells me I'm not gonna enjoy these tests of yours."

Stern smirked without looking up from his tablet, stylus flicking across the screen. "Oh, I guarantee you won't."

Nathan scoffed, running a hand down his regrown arm—the flesh was smooth, unscarred, as if the amputation had never happened. But it didn't feel right. Not yet. He flexed his fingers, feeling the natural strength behind them, but it wasn't the same. There was no cold, unyielding vibranium, no integrated neural link connecting him to the Floater.

He sighed, shaking his head. "Still... I'm gonna miss my vibranium arm and the Floater. They were damn useful."

Stern finally looked up, his smirk widening into something more knowing. "About that..." He tucked the tablet under his arm, tilting his head slightly. "I've been examining the spinal implants and had a chat or two with Starr while you were getting used to your new strength."

Nathan raised a brow. "And?"

Stern’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. "It'll take some time, but we’ll be able to regraft the implants back into your spine—without worrying about your healing factor spitting them right back out."

Nathan’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Graft?" His arms crossed over his chest, voice skeptical. "What do you mean?"

Stern twirled the stylus between his fingers, giving him a knowing look. "Tell me, why do you think your arm and those implants fell off the moment your healing factor kicked in?"

Nathan exhaled sharply, tilting his head. "Because they were foreign objects attached to my body through flesh and bone—then suddenly, my body started healing."

Stern snapped his fingers, pointing at him. "Bingo. That's the simple version, but it goes deeper than that."

Nathan frowned. "How much deeper?"

Stern tapped his temple, then pointed at Nathan. "Your healing factor isn't just fixing damage. It’s reading your DNA—constantly cross-referencing, constantly working to restore you to the state you're meant to be. It’s almost like… rewinding time at a cellular level, but not quite."

He took a step closer, eyes gleaming with scientific enthusiasm. "That means it won’t just heal wounds—it will also keep you young. For a very long time."

Nathan blinked, absorbing that. "You're telling me... I'm not gonna age?"

Stern gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Not anytime soon. Your cells won’t decay like a normal person’s. You’re locked in, my friend."

Nathan let out a slow breath. He hadn’t considered that. Immortality—or at least something damn close to it. A body that refused to break down, that would reset itself every time something changed. It was a gift and a curse.

He clenched his fist once, staring at his own perfectly regrown hand. "Huh."

Stern let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You should start getting used to the idea, but that’s not actually what I was getting at."

He paused for a beat, watching Nathan’s expression carefully before continuing. "Basically, your healing factor rejected the prosthetic and spinal implants because they weren’t part of your DNA. Your body saw them as foreign—like a bad transplant—and kicked them out."

Nathan hummed in acknowledgment, tilting his head slightly. "And you can fix that?"

Stern shrugged, his grin returning. "The serum didn’t just heal you—it hijacked your DNA, optimized it, and now it’s working overtime to maintain that perfected state. But…" He lifted a finger, his smirk widening. "The same way I tailored the serum to match your DNA, I can manipulate it to accommodate changes to it."

Nathan raised a brow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Stern said, stepping closer, "I can rework your body’s biology to accept the implants as if they were always meant to be there. It’ll take time, but I can transform them into something closer to organic technology—or, at the very least, trick your immune system into recognizing them as natural extensions of you. No more rejection."

Nathan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "I knew I wouldn’t regret bringing you in."

Stern gave an exaggerated bow. "Glad to be of service."

Nathan crossed his arms, exhaling slowly. "And what about the arm?"

Stern hesitated for a fraction of a second before giving him a strange look. "We could do the same thing… but we'd need to amputate your newly regrown arm to reinstall it."

Nathan’s expression darkened instantly. His grip tightened around his own forearm, the phantom sensation of losing it once already flashing through his mind. "Yeah... let's not do that."

Stern let out a short laugh, waving a hand dismissively. "Relax, I figured you’d say that. We’ll just scrap the prosthetic—use it, along with the bits of vibranium in store, to make you something nice."

Nathan arched a brow. "Nice, huh?"

Stern grinned. "Come on, do I ever half-ass things?"

Nathan exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he nodded. “Something to look forward to, I guess…” He started to turn back to Stern. “Anyway, have—”

Before he could finish, the gym doors slid open with a quiet hiss. Rick Mason strode in, his usual laid-back demeanor intact, though his expression shifted the moment his gaze swept the room. “Hey, Nathan. Tony Stark is—”

Rick suddenly halted mid-sentence, his eyes locking onto the warped metal plate still cooling on the floor. His brows furrowed as he turned toward Nathan—then, for the first time, really noticed his regrown arm.

“So you’ve got your arm back…” His voice was laced with something between curiosity and dry amusement. “I take it the serum’s doing its job.”

Nathan flexed his fingers, feeling the strength surging through his muscles, the heat of his enhanced physiology humming beneath his skin. “Even better than intended, according to the good doctor.” He shot Stern a glance, then refocused on Rick. “Anyway, what’s this about Stark?”

Rick blinked, as if remembering why he’d come in. “Right—Stark’s in Miami. He’s closing in on the so-called ‘Mandarin.’ It’s only a matter of time before he figures out that Killian was behind the bombings all along.”

Nathan let out a thoughtful hum. Even if Steve Rogers and SHIELD had passed along the intel he’d provided, Stark would still have to piece things together himself. Even knowing Trevor Slattery was nothing but a puppet, he’d need to track him down first before the full picture came into focus.

Nathan turned to Stern, already making up his mind. “Looks like we’ll have to finish this conversation later.”

Stern simply shrugged, scribbling something in his notebook. “Anytime.”

Nathan took a deep breath, already moving toward the door. “I need to get to Miami. Fast.”

Rick easily fell into step beside him, his voice as steady as ever. “Transportation’s already waiting.”