The glow of the microscope still burned faintly when Dexter leaned back, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. The thug's blood had revealed something he didn't expect.
Dormant.
The supergene coiled tightly in the sample was untouched, silent nothing like Monkey's, which had been fully active, vibrant, alive. Yet Dexter had seen the thug use his abilities in their fight. The evidence in front of him contradicted the reality he had faced.
He swiveled away from the bench, tapping his chin as he paced across the lab floor. His slippers scuffed softly against the tiles. Patterns, theories, possibilities all flickered across his thoughts like chalk on a board.
The supergenes have no record of in any database, no trace in government archives, no mention in public science. Supers existed, yes... but the root of their power? It was not documented. Perhaps hidden or it's just deliberately buried.
The nanites, however, were different. They were public knowledge, though filtered through half-truths and cover stories. Everyone knew they could twist living beings into monsters when active. But Dexter knew there was more—so much more. Memories of his past life reminded him that nanites were never simple accidents. They had been designed, coded, built with a purpose.
He stopped pacing, gaze snapping to the main console. His fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, opening buried menus until he reached it. A sealed directory.
File 54
The screen filled with text.
Generator Rex.
Dexter leaned closer, scanning quickly. Notes on nanites design: self-replicating, microscopic machines, potential to alter organic structures, daptive coding. Nothing surprising yet. But then further down an incomplete section highlighted in red.
Activation Protocols.
His eyes sharpened. The text described resonance triggers—hidden frequencies embedded in their original code. Nanites weren't randomly activated. They could be awakened by the right sound.
A grin crept across his face.
He darted toward his shelves, pulling parts together. Circuit boards, a frequency driver, power cells, a conical emitter. Tools clattered as he soldered and bolted, sparks flashing under his goggles. The smell of heated metal filled the air.
An hour later, the device sat in his hand. Compact, shaped like a handheld scanner, its small screen displayed shifting waveforms. A dial controlled the pitch, while the emitter gleamed like a speaker's eye.
Dexter powered it on and a low hum filled the air. The blood sample remained unchanged. He adjusted the dial, the tone rose into a sharp whistle. Still nothing.
Frequency after frequency. His notes stacked with data points, failures cataloged neatly. The lab grew quiet except for the droning hums of his tests. Dexter wasn't frustrated—only thoughtful, he adjusted, recalculated, tested again. This was science: trial, error, discovery.
"Ah shit" Eventually, he sighed and set the device on the bench. It clattered against the steel surface, the dial jarring slightly.
Bzzzzp.
A strange undertone buzzed from the emitter—an accident.
At first Dexter ignored it. Then—
Crk!
The glass slide cracked.
Dexter's eyes shot to the microscope. The blood smear glowed faint orange.
He lunged forward, heart racing, and adjusted the scope.
"This..."
The nanites were moving.
They unfolded like living machines, hexagonal limbs twitching, attaching themselves tighter to the gene. The supergene, once dormant, pulsed faintly, strands glowing as though electricity had touched them. Not fully awake, but no longer silent either.
Dexter quickly recorded the frequency, preserving the reading. He loaded a fresh sample, reapplied the resonance.
The reaction repeated—nanites stirring, binding, coaxing the supergene to flicker alive.
Dexter leaned closer, awe written across his face.
"...Incredible."
Not only had the nanites awakened—they had half-stirred the supergene itself. Biology and machine, entwined in a single spark of potential.
Dexter's eyes gleamed behind his glasses as he adjusted the microscope one last time, the faint orange light of the sample still pulsing in rhythm with the recorded frequency. He was on the verge of setting up a new test, perhaps altering the wavelength or applying the blood to a different tissue sample... when the computer's voice cut through the hum of the lab.
[Dexter, your mother is knocking at your door.]
The monitor shifted automatically, showing a feed from the room above. His mother stood in the hallway outside his bedroom, gently knocking.
"Dexter, honey? It's almost eleven. Get ready—we're heading to the grocery."
Dexter blinked, frozen halfway through reaching for another vial. For a long second, his scientist brain warred with his family obligations. The vial wobbled slightly in his hand before he sighed, setting it back on the rack.
"Looks like I'll have to wait," he muttered, pulling off his gloves and lab coat.
He crossed the lab, fingers brushing switches as the consoles powered down one by one, their blue lights dimming until only the containment cylinder with Metal still glowed softly in the dark. The Ultralink tilted slightly, its red core pulsing.
[You are leaving?]
"For now," Dexter said. "Even geniuses have errands."
[How odd.]
Dexter cracked a faint smirk before stepping into the elevator. The platform rumbled upward, metal sliding shut beneath his feet until it rose smoothly back into his bedroom.
He slipped out from behind his shelf, changing quickly into a casual black shirt printed with a white skull and a pair of grey pants. His reflection in the mirror looked… almost normal.
He sigh, brushing his hair down and heading for the door.
Downstairs, the house buzzed with weekend calm. Sunlight poured through the windows, catching on the clean tile floor. His mother was already in the garage, seated in the driver's seat of the family car, tapping something on her phone while the automatic door began to rise with a hum.
Dexter adjusted his glasses, stepped into the garage, and opened the passenger-side door. The car smelled faintly of air freshener and the coffee his mother always brought for drives.
She looked up with a smile. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Dexter said, settling into the seat and closing the door with a soft click.
The engine turned over, purring quietly. The garage light flicked from red to green as the door lifted fully.
"Alright then," she said cheerfully. "Let's get some groceries."
Dexter leaned back, watching the sunlight spill across the driveway as they rolled out. His mind, though, was still half in the lab—still seeing the nanites awaken, still hearing that accidental frequency hum in his head.
And as the car disappeared down the street, he knew one thing for certain.
The moment he got back, he was finishing what he started.