Ability Out of Control?

"Russell." His voice was flat, without inflection or emotion, indistinguishable from a machine.

"The general has ordered you to come with me. Taking you alive is the priority. If you resist—" He paused. "I'm authorized to use any means necessary, including bringing back your corpse."

Russell turned around and leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, hands tucked into his bathrobe pockets as he studied the expressionless man with interest.

"What's your name?"

"Hound 10."

"That's a number, not a name."

The gray-eyed man did not answer.

He stood there like a silent wall. Or a drawn blade waiting to strike.

At a secret base in Washington, General Darian watched Russell on the screen, his eyes burning with excitement.

Unlike Colonel Flint, who had previously been ordered to pursue Russell, General Darian had fitted Hound 10 with a miniature camera made from a special material.

He wanted a closer look at the specimen carrying the genes of the three strongest known Mutants. Just how far did Russell's powers go?

"Tell Hound 10 again to be careful. He should avoid killing Russell if possible. A living Mutant is far more useful than a dead one."

"Yes, General!"

After receiving the order, one of General Darian's soldiers quickly relayed the new instructions.

"General, Colonel Stryker is here..."

"Let him in. This is the perfect chance for him to see which is stronger: Specimen 47 or his Weapon X."

Russell's ears twitched. He heard the faint electrical hum clearly and glanced at the miniature camera on the man's chest.

He yawned, already bored. "Fine, then. Let's fight."

Hound 10 moved the next instant.

His speed was beyond human. It was not the speed of a Mutant, but the raw explosive force of a body pushed to its limit.

He charged Russell in a straight line. No circling, no feints. His approach was as simple as the answer to a geometry problem.

Russell did not dodge. Now that his Superhuman Healing had reached level four, he needed a tougher whetstone, and this Hound, who could easily melt a steel door, was a perfect fit.

He raised a hand. Telekinesis gathered in his palm, forming an invisible barrier in the path of Hound 10's fist.

The fist struck the barrier.

BOOM!

A shock wave burst outward from the point of impact. Books flew off the coffee table, spiderweb cracks spread across the floor-to-ceiling window, and the chandelier swung violently.

After that brief test, Russell retreated two steps. Hound 10 retreated three, thanks to the physique Russell had gained as his Superhuman Healing improved.

Both men raised their heads and looked at each other.

The skin on Hound 10's fist had split from the rebound, exposing bright red muscle beneath. But the wounds were closing before Russell's eyes.

It was not healing. It was energy conversion, almost to the point of turning translucent.

He had absorbed the force rebounding from Russell's barrier and converted it into bioelectricity to repair his tissues.

Russell narrowed his eyes. He could tell Hound 10 was stronger than Black King and could already partially transform his body into energy.

At least when it came to converting energy, he surpassed the flesh-and-blood Black King.

"You can absorb kinetic energy and turn it into healing?" Russell flexed his tingling fingers. "Interesting."

Hound 10 gave him no time to breathe. He was a human-shaped machine that did nothing but follow orders.

He charged again, faster and harder.

His fist opened as it neared Russell. Five fingers curled into a claw, and a dazzling white light erupted from his palm. It was energy he had stored from numerous previous tests, released all at once.

The energy beam slammed into Russell's chest before he could react.

It burned a huge hole through his bathrobe. His skin charred, cracked, and peeled away under the heat, exposing bright red muscle and white ribs.

The force drove Russell backward until his back hit the floor-to-ceiling window. The double-pane tempered glass, already covered in cracks, finally gave way. It shattered with a crash, sending countless fragments flying outside.

He stood at the edge of the frame, half his body hanging over a drop of more than two hundred meters. Night wind poured through the opening, blowing his damp hair back.

Russell glanced down at the wound on his chest. New tissue pushed the charred skin inward from the edges. Dead flesh fell away, revealing tender pink skin underneath. The whole process took less than five seconds.

Level-four Superhuman Healing was practically immortality.

[Super Self-Healing Experience +1]

[Super Self-Healing Experience +1]

[Surprise Emotion Points +0.5]

[Worry Emotion Points +0.8]

The system notifications, though, were what Russell most wanted to hear.

A flicker finally appeared in Hound 10's eyes—not fear, but confusion.

He had absorbed so many attacks and converted so much energy, yet he had never encountered anything like this.

That beam had enough power to punch through an armored vehicle. But less than five seconds after it hit this man, he looked as though nothing had happened.

General Darian had briefed him on the target, so he knew Russell had healing abilities similar to Wolverine's. He had not expected them to be this strong.

The two girls watching anxiously nearby began to relax after seeing Russell's astonishing healing ability.

Behind Felicity, Laura's cold eyes glinted. She remembered how Russell had spent the last two days taking baths to increase his strength, and a new thought took shape in her mind.

Russell stepped down from the window frame. Broken glass crunched beneath his bare feet.

He looked at Hound 10, a cold smile curling his lips.

"You absorbed my attack. Now it's my turn to absorb yours."

Hound 10's pupils contracted. He instinctively raised both hands and formed an energy shield in front of himself.

This was his strongest defense. He released all the energy stored in his body at a specific frequency, creating a force field capable of deflecting any physical attack.

Russell did not use Telekinesis from a distance.

He walked forward at an unhurried pace and punched the energy shield.

The shield shuddered violently but held.

Hound 10's counterattack arrived almost at the same instant. His other hand shot out around the side of the shield, firing an energy beam straight at Russell's temple.

Russell did not dodge. The beam pierced his skull, entering through his left temple and exiting the right side of his head in a spray of blood and tiny bone fragments.

Felicity had braced herself, but the sight was too much. She screamed.

Laura leaned forward. Her steel claws sprang out involuntarily, and her narrowed eyes looked like those of a leopard about to pounce.

But she did not move. Not because she was afraid, but because she believed in the man before her.

The terrible wound through Russell's head repaired itself in less than three seconds, from the inside out, layer by layer.

Brain tissue regenerated first. Then the skull closed, and finally skin covered it.

Russell had not even closed his eyes by the time the last patch of skin grew back.

An expression finally crossed Hound 10's face.

Not fear. Disbelief.

"You—" For the first time, clear emotion entered his voice. "You can't be killed."

[Surprise Emotion Points +1]

[Surprise Emotion Points +1]

"Maybe," Russell said noncommittally, and drove his second punch into the energy shield.

This time, it cracked.

Brute force had not broken it. Under Russell's Molecular Psychokinesis, the energy particles making up the shield were forcibly dismantled, rearranged, and ultimately dispersed.

Hound 10 could absorb and release energy, but he could not control its arrangement at the molecular level.

That was the fundamental difference between them.

The instant the shield shattered, Russell's molecular-level Psychic Telekinesis invaded Hound 10's body. The energy stored inside him lost its restraint and began leaking out.

White light seeped from every pore, making him look like a star about to explode.

His body swelled. His skin tore, and his blood vessels bulged. He was about to lose control.

Russell reached out and pressed a hand against his chest.

Molecular Psychokinesis surged deeper into Hound 10's body. This time, Russell was not destroying anything. He was channeling the energy.

The violent energy on the verge of exploding flowed out of Hound 10, traveled up Russell's arm, and entered Russell's body.

When the torrent hit, Russell felt as though an enormous lightning bolt had struck him. Every cell in his body groaned, and every bone creaked.

That familiar sensation had returned.

To him, it was not pain but something more primal, more intense. Every cell screamed at once, and every nerve burned.

His level-four Superhuman Healing worked furiously, repairing tissue damaged by the energy rushing through him. The repairs outpaced the damage by the narrowest margin.

[Super Self-Healing Experience +1]

[Super Self-Healing Experience +1]

System notifications rang out without pause.

That painful yet exhilarating experience ended too soon. Just as Russell was getting into it, Hound 10's body sagged like a deflated balloon.

He dropped to his knees. The last glimmer faded from his gray eyes, leaving him looking like a discarded doll.

Disappointed, Russell withdrew his hand and looked down at himself.

The fabric over his chest had long since burned away. Red lines left by the energy still traced his skin like lightning scars.

[Shock Emotion Points +1]

[Shock Emotion Points +1]

[Shock Emotion Points +1]

Lights glowed in many windows of the hotel the military had targeted. Someone stood behind almost every curtain. Some took photos, some made calls, and others stood frozen with their mouths open.

On the second floor of the café across the street, Scott held a coffee cup at his lips, having forgotten to drink.

He had seen Jean Grey unleash her power. He had seen Magneto lift an entire stadium. But this horror—someone who could neither be beaten to death nor drained dry—

This was his first time seeing it.

Perhaps he had seen something similar in Wolverine Logan before, but Scott would bet his quartz glasses it had never been this terrifying.

"Omega." Scott set down his cup and murmured, "He really is Omega. The professor was right. His potential is enormous."

At the hotel entrance, the police officers in bulletproof vests had retreated beyond the cordon.

Their guns had been useless during the fight. It was not that they had not wanted to shoot. They had not dared.

Through the hotel's security cameras, many of them had practically watched a man's head get pierced by an energy beam, then grow back in three seconds.

The image would replay in their nightmares for a long time.

If they had not known Mutants and superheroes existed, they might have thought the man was God incarnate.

"Oh my God..."

On the hotel's top floor, Felicity leaned against the wall, her legs weak. At some point, tears had covered her face.

She was happy at how powerful Lord Russell was, but her heart ached for the suffering he had endured.

Laura stood beside her, claws still extended, but her eyes were fixed on Russell.

Looking at the man standing amid broken glass and pools of blood, smoke still rising from his body, she felt something she never had before.

It was not dependence or gratitude. It was faith—and it was different from the faith she had in Professor X.

Russell turned and glanced out at the flashing police lights and the distant crowd holding up phones.

His Emotion Points kept climbing by more than ten a second, like a counter that would never stop.

He looked down at his hand.

His fingers still remembered the sensation of channeling that energy. Drawing power out of another person and making it his own brought a word to mind: devouring.

"Interesting." He rubbed his fingers together.

Then he looked at Hound 10, limp as a dead dog, and decided to put him out of his misery. The man had given him a little enjoyment, after all.

Helping others was the right thing to do.

Russell rubbed his fingers, about to snap them, when his gaze caught on Hound 10.

In his microscopic vision, he had spotted something intriguing: the X-Factor.

The X-Factor was the source of Mutant powers.

It was in his body, in Laura's, and even in the bodies of every human on Earth.

Russell made a friendly throat-slitting gesture at the audience watching through the camera on Hound 10's chest.

Snap!

With that single snap, Hound 10 returned to nature. Between Russell's fingers remained a lump of flesh containing Hound 10's genetic sequence.

The Aqua Regia in the bathroom had gone cold. He would need to prepare a fresh batch.

Outside, the night wind blew through the shattered floor-to-ceiling window, making the curtains whip and snap.

Felicity walked over and closed the window. There was no glass left, but at least she could draw the curtains.

Laura crouched, glanced at Russell, then returned to the sofa. She picked up the fruit knife and casually resumed spinning it between her fingers.

Silver flashed in circle after circle.

"According to the video data we've just received, Specimen 47, Russell, has healing abilities several degrees stronger than Wolverine's."

"Excellent. His potential really can exceed that of his genetic sources. I just don't understand why we never discovered it before."

For once, General Darian was not furious that Hound 10 had failed to capture Russell. Russell's provocative gesture did not anger him either. Instead, he was unusually excited.

"What do you think, Colonel Stryker?"

Stryker, his hair groomed to perfection, looked away from the screen filled with static.

"We won't know until they fight."

On the second floor of the café across the street, Scott picked up his phone and sent Charles a message: "Hound 10 has been defeated. Russell is completely unharmed."

Seconds later, Charles replied: "Are you sure he's completely unharmed?"

Scott thought for a moment, deleted "unscathed," and changed it to "injured, but healed instantly."

Charles replied, "...I know. We're in for big trouble now."

Scott had no idea what he meant. He turned his phone face down on the table, picked up his long-cold coffee, and drained it in one gulp, his expression deeply conflicted.

The night was still young, but it was not going to be peaceful.

In Dark City, the man everyone was watching had gone berserk and begun using Death Mark on the police and soldiers blocking off the streets.

At least, that was how it looked to Scott.

"No. His power... it's out of control."