While Edward was locked in a brutal embrace with the telekinetic, the pure, visceral joy of vengeance was a fire in his veins. The agony of his self-immolation was a distant thing, drowned out by the satisfying crackle of the telekinetic's shield and the terror in the man's eyes. Finally, after years of being a helpless victim, he was the monster in the room. He squeezed harder, and with a final, sickening pop, the blue shield shattered, and his iron arms met, pulping the man between them.
He let the corpse drop and turned, his glowing eyes scanning for his next victim. He would kill them all. He would burn this entire island to the ground before his own fire consumed him.
Marcus observed the carnage with a detached appreciation. There was a certain purity to Edward's rage. These researchers had stripped him of his humanity, treating him as little more than a lab rat. Now that the rat had been given the claws of a tiger, its revenge was not only predictable but, in a cosmic sense, just. However, one rampaging supe was not enough. For Marcus's plans, the chaos needed to be magnified, weaponized, and aimed directly at the heart of Vought.
Still cloaked in the Void, he glided through the now-chaotic corridors, past the cracked and shattered containment cells. With a flick of his incorporeal wrist, he sent out waves of Void energy, not as a gentle suggestion, but as a sharp, psychic shock that sliced through the anesthetic haze fogging the minds of the other test subjects.
One moment, they were in a drugged stupor; the next, their consciousness was ripped from their bodies. They found themselves standing on a formless, gray plain under an artificial sky. Before them stood a being of impossible scale, a titan sculpted from pure, shifting light, its form both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
A voice, the same one that had spoken to Edward, echoed in their minds. "You have been caged. You have been tormented. You have been made weak."
The god of light raised a hand, and a vision flooded their minds. It was an immersive, sensory assault. They didn't just see Edward fighting; they felt his unrestrained power, the glorious, righteous fury, the satisfying crunch of bone under his fists, the terrified screams of their shared captors.
"I have watched your suffering," the voice resonated. "And I offer you… apotheosis. The power to claim your revenge. The strength to take back your lives. All you must do is accept my gift."
For most, there was no hesitation. They were dregs, failures, and rejects, captured and experimented on for years. The vision Marcus showed them wasn't just of power; it was of liberation. They saw themselves breaking free, standing over the defeated forms of the Seven, taking Homelander's place at the pinnacle of the world. The lure of such absolute power was irresistible. Greed and desperation clouded any sense of caution. One by one, they bowed their heads.
"I accept!"
"Give me the power!"
"I'll kill them all!"
As each subject agreed, a tendril of golden Void energy flowed from the light-titan and into them. It was an ecstatic, agonizing surge. Their bodies, still lying in their cells, began to convulse. Their eyes snapped open, glowing with the same golden light as Edward's. Their own latent powers flared, amplified a hundredfold, twisting and mutating into new, more potent forms.
A woman whose power was minor hydro-kinesis felt the ability to command every drop of moisture in the air, to flash-freeze and boil with a thought. A man who could barely bend spoons with his mind now felt the power to twist steel and crumble concrete.
Back in the lab, one of them, his body crackling with raw power, smashed his cell door off its hinges. He looked at his hands, feeling more powerful than he had ever dreamed. "I'm invincible," he whispered in awe.
"Then go," Marcus's voice commanded in their minds. "Go and make the world tremble."
A tear in reality opened before them. It was not a door, but a swirling vortex of energy, and through it, they could see the streets of New York, choked with fire and chaos. The sounds of explosions and screams poured through the portal. On the other side, the two factions of the Seven were locked in a destructive battle.
"Kill them!" a newly empowered supe roared, his eyes fixated on Homelander in the distance. "Let them see what real power looks like!"
It was a stampede. A horde of vengeful, overpowered test subjects, their minds buzzing with newfound strength and promises of glory, charged through the portal. They were the hounds of war, and Marcus had just unleashed them.
Yet, as the last of the horde vanished into the vortex, one man remained. He stood frozen, looking from the portal of freedom to the dark, chaotic corridor where the sounds of Edward's battle still echoed.
It was Jason, the fire-breather. Marcus recognized him instantly. He was faced with a choice: escape and power, or loyalty and death.
A flicker of memory: two small boys shivering together in an orphanage; sharing a stolen apple in an alley; the roar of the circus crowd as Jason spat a plume of fire into the air while Edward lifted the strongman's weights. And then the dark vans, the Vought agents, the end of their small, simple life.
Jason turned his back on the portal. "Edward," he whispered. "I'm not leaving you." He closed his eyes and spoke to the presence he knew was watching. "I accept."
The deal was made.
A flicker of genuine curiosity stirred within Marcus. This act of selfless loyalty was a fascinating, unexpected variable in his calculations. With a wave of his hand, he sealed the portal to New York, isolating the island's drama. This little play was for him alone.
Jason looked back at the now-empty space where the portal had been, then clenched his fists. The Void's power surged through him. He screamed, a raw sound of agony and resolve, as his body was consumed by the transformation. His skin cracked like cooling obsidian, revealing a molten, lava-like core beneath. Flames erupted not just from his mouth, but from every fissure in his body. He was a living inferno.
"EDWARD!" His voice was a guttural roar. "I'M COMING!"
He became a torrent of fire and rage, rocketing down the corridor toward his friend.
Meanwhile, Edward's fight had reached a stalemate. He was trading blows with the bald researcher, whose own superpower was an incredible regenerative ability. Every time Edward's iron fist landed, pulping flesh and shattering bone, the wounds would seal and heal in the next instant.
"I'll kill you! I WILL KILL YOU!" Edward roared, his movements growing frantic.
"Hahaha, you?" the researcher taunted, his face contorting into a cruel smirk as his broken nose snapped back into place. "You're just a glitch, a dead end! A failed experiment! We'll learn more from your corpse than we ever did from your life!"
He miscalculated. As he delivered his taunt, an oppressive wave of heat washed over him. The steel walls around them began to glow and warp.
Jason arrived. The temperature in the room skyrocketed. He landed beside Edward, a pillar of fire and fury.
"Jason…?" Edward stared, his glowing eyes wide with shock and heartbreak. The molten form of his friend was a horrific sight. "Why? You could have been free! Why did you come back?"
Jason looked at Edward, and through the roaring flames, a sad, determined smile could be seen.
"And leave my brother behind?" he said, his voice like the crackle of a forest fire. "Never. Not in the orphanage. Not at the circus. And not here. Where you go, I go. That's always been the deal."