The second-generation bio-enhanced serum didn't tear the body apart the way the first version had.
It rebuilt.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
But that precision came at a cost.
Energy. Massive amounts of it.
Nutrients. Continuous supply.
Inside the cultivation tank, the liquid medium had been personally formulated by Drex Valen. Every component was calculated down to the molecular level. The tank itself was connected to a dedicated energy array—
Ten miniature arc reactors.
Enough power to sustain a transformation that would have killed anything less resilient.
—
Emil Blonsky floated within the tank, suspended in a state between life and something else.
The process resembled recalibration more than mutation.
His body was being rewritten from the inside out.
When it was finished…
He would stand alone.
The first of a new class.
A true bio-weapon.
—
Five days passed.
Then—
Movement.
—
"He's waking up."
Dr. Connors didn't hesitate. He alerted Drex immediately.
His concern wasn't theoretical.
If Blonsky came out unstable—
There would be nothing a normal human researcher could do to stop him.
—
Drex arrived just as Blonsky's eyes snapped open.
A heartbeat later—
The tank exploded.
Glass shattered outward as Blonsky surged free, roaring—a raw, primal sound that filled the entire lab.
Then the transformation accelerated.
—
Claws tore through his fingertips, long and blade-like.
A hardened exoskeletal shell spread across his body.
Muscles swelled, dense and violent, pushing against the limits of his frame.
There was nothing recognizably human left in his silhouette.
—
He moved.
Fast.
One clawed arm swung toward Drex—
—
Drex raised a hand.
Caught it.
Effortless.
—
"Significantly stronger than first-generation units," Drex observed calmly. "A standard bio-enhanced soldier would have been shredded by that strike."
—
Blonsky roared again.
His chest flared with light.
Energy surged upward—
Then concentrated at his mouth.
—
A plasma weapon.
—
A specialized organ, engineered into his system.
Energy condensed into superheated plasma—capable of melting steel in an instant.
—
He fired.
—
The blast shot forward like a meteor, faster than the human eye could track.
—
Drex caught it.
One hand.
Closed his fingers—
And crushed it.
The heat didn't even scorch his skin.
—
"Again," Drex said, almost inviting. "Let's see what else you can do."
—
A faint shimmer spread outward.
His biological field activated, shielding the surrounding environment.
—
Blonsky's back split open.
Six organic launch ports unfolded—
And fired.
—
Bio-missiles screamed through the air.
Each one packed with internally synthesized liquid explosives, designed to obliterate armored targets. Guided by neural signals, they adjusted mid-flight with disturbing precision.
Tank-killers.
Every single one.
—
Drex didn't move.
—
Impact.
—
A chain of explosions ripped through the chamber, fire swallowing everything in sight.
The shockwave hammered against the invisible barrier of Drex's field—
And stopped.
—
Dr. Connors stared, breath caught somewhere between awe and obsession.
This wasn't science.
This was something beyond it.
—
The flames faded.
—
Drex stood at the center of the blast.
Untouched.
—
His hand tightened around Blonsky's throat.
Lifting him.
Holding him in place like it meant nothing.
—
Then—
He threw him.
—
Blonsky slammed into the wall.
The structure held.
Blonsky didn't.
Bones shattered throughout his body, the impact snapping him out of his frenzy.
—
Silence.
—
"…What happened?"
His voice was rough, disoriented.
He looked down at himself.
Claws. Armor. Mass.
A body built for war.
—
"Congratulations," Drex said evenly. "You've become something new."
A pause.
"A super soldier."
—
Blonsky flexed his hands.
Power flooded through him.
Dense. Immediate. Absolute.
—
A heavy object skidded across the floor toward him.
—
Clang.
—
It struck his foot.
Pain flared.
He looked down.
A barbell.
—
"Custom-built," Drex said. "Integrated gravity engine. Currently set to one ton."
He gestured lightly.
"Try it."
—
Blonsky bent down.
Picked it up.
—
It felt like nothing.
A golf ball in his hand.
—
His lips curled.
—
This—
This was it.
—
He didn't care what he looked like.
Didn't care what he'd become.
This strength—
This was everything.
—
"Your muscle output is approximately thirty times that of a normal human," Drex continued. "And that's a baseline measure—not a simple multiplier of raw force."
"Your skeletal density has increased by several orders of magnitude. Your external armor can withstand direct tank fire."
"Your neural response speed allows you to perceive and evade bullets—though, realistically, you won't need to."
—
Blonsky listened.
But part of his mind lingered on something else.
—
The moment earlier.
When Drex had stopped him.
Effortlessly.
—
"…What about you?" he asked. "How strong are you?"
—
Drex considered the question.
Then shook his head.
"Hard to quantify."
A faint pause.
"There isn't a system on this planet capable of measuring it."
—
That wasn't arrogance.
It was fact.
—
Since discovering that gravity-based training accelerated his absorption of solar energy, Drex's growth had become exponential.
Unstable.
Unpredictable.
Fast.
—
And there was something else.
Something new.
—
He had begun to develop psionic abilities.
—
Not something Kryptonians were supposed to have.
Not like this.
—
It resembled telepathy.
Or something closer to what Charles Xavier or Jean Grey might wield.
Mental influence.
Perception.
Control.
—
That realization hadn't been reassuring.
It raised questions.
New variables.
Unknown weaknesses.
—
Different sun.
Different universe.
Different rules.
—
In some realities, Kryptonians developed different abilities depending on their environment.
This—
Could be one of those divergences.
—
Drex wanted to study it.
Break it down.
Understand it.
—
But in this world, that came with risk.
Too many variables.
Too many things that could go wrong.
Samples could mutate.
Data could be compromised.
Outcomes could spiral.
—
So instead—
He adapted.
—
He refined the ability.
Gave it purpose.
—
A signal.
A command structure.
—
A psychic imprint.
—
Each bio-enhanced soldier received a fragment of his mental energy—embedded directly into their neural framework.
The fragment sustained itself using the host's own mental output.
And through it—
Drex could reach them.
Anywhere.
—
Distance didn't matter.
Barriers didn't matter.
—
They would hear him.
—
And they would obey.