"Bold delivery, but I'll pass." Soren simply stated.
Before him stood a tall, sharply dressed man.
Soren was detached, as though the person before him wasn't worth his breath.
"If you're sick, wait your turn like everyone else. Queue up outside the hospital, follow the rules."
The words left no room for negotiation.
The overdressed man's lips twitched, his anger simmering, but outwardly, he forced a smile, straightening his jacket with unhurried grace.
"Doctor…" His voice was smooth, coaxing.
"Let's not be too quick to refuse. You haven't even heard what I'm offering."
This man had no idea when to back down. He opened his mouth to send him packing, but then he raised his hand.
A strange, unnatural orange glow flickered along his arm, and within moments, flames danced in his palm.
The temperature climbed as the fire's heat spread outward, making the leaves on nearby plants wilt slightly.
[Aldrich Killian]
[World Level C+]
[Abilities: Healing Lv 8, Combat Lv 6, Pyrokinetic Control Lv 7]
[Gene: Extremis (Unstable), Human]
Ah. Killian.
Soren's memory stirred. A name from another world, another life.
Stark's rival, the man who kidnapped Pepper Potts, dreamt of power he couldn't fully control.
"I see." Soren muttered, his lips curling faintly. "Still not interested."
"Leave now. While you still have your skin."
The rejection made Killian's expression crack. His smile vanished, replaced by a scowl as the flames in his hand roared brighter, the heat turning almost suffocating.
"I don't like violence, doctor." Killian's voice turned cold. "But if you keep being so stubborn, you might get burned."
Boom.
The moment Killian's threat left his mouth, a terrifying pressure fell over the yard like a storm descending from the heavens.
Crack!
An invisible, brutal force smacked Killian square in the face, a slap that echoed through the courtyard.
The impact lifted him clean off his feet. His face distorted grotesquely, blood gushed from his nose, front teeth snapping loose, and a vivid crimson handprint bloomed across his cheek.
He hit the ground like a sack of bricks, dazed and reeling.
Before he could even process what happened, another invisible strike smashed down on him. This time, a suffocating, unseen power wrapped around his body, binding him in the air like a puppet.
"I'm sorry, what was that? I didn't quite hear you."
Killian struggled, the Extremis-enhanced regeneration already knitting his injuries, but it wasn't enough. The pressure left him helpless, his face continued to swell.
Fury twisted Killian's features. His body began to glow, the heat radiating from him growing to dangerous levels as his anger ignited his unstable genes.
Fwoom!
"You're angry now?" Soren scoffed.
"Don't combust on me."
The heat surged dangerously, the plants in the yard shriveling, the air shimmering, but before the inferno could spread, Soren waved a hand.
Whoom!
The searing heat collapsed inward, condensed into a tight, shimmering sphere that hovered harmlessly in the air.
Killian gritted his teeth. The explosion had shattered the invisible restraints, his body freed for a moment, but the humiliation remained.
His strongest burst, his last resort, hadn't even singed the grass.
Fear finally broke through the rage.
"Who… what are you?" Killian's voice trembled, the bravado replaced by stark terror.
The sheer difference in power made him realize how foolish he'd been to challenge this man.
Soren didn't answer.
He simply lifted a finger and, like a conductor directing an invisible orchestra, a barrage of unseen strikes began to rain down, blow after blow.
Killian screamed, body jerking with every hit.
"This is for disturbing my peace."
'I have to reach him~' Killian's thoughts screamed in desperation.
His body surged forward, propelled by rage and the unstable Extremis serum burning in his veins, but it was as though the air itself turned solid, repelling him each time he tried.
The one-sided beating continued, a relentless barrage of invisible strikes.
Soren never moved from his spot, his hands lazily shifting, his eyes half-lidded, utterly disinterested, yet every nonchalant motion brought unspeakable pain to Killian.
Flames burst. Bones shattered.
Each time, miraculously, his body pulled itself back together.
The Extremis serum kicked in with terrifying speed, mending torn muscles, knitting together cracked bones.
In mere seconds, the charred, broken man was whole again, only for Soren's unseen blows to crush him apart again.
"Interesting…"
'He heals fast. Faster than expected. Extremis… this unstable gene.'
Soren's mind drifted. His thoughts turned to Zilant, the strange, gifted patient whose genetic structure was dangerously unstable.
For weeks, Soren had searched for something, some integrated gene sequence that could stabilize and enhance Zilant's condition.
And now, here it was. Delivered right to his doorstep.
'What… a lucky find.'
Killian, meanwhile, was rapidly losing his will. The fury, the hatred, the defiance, all of it bled out of him, replaced by primal flight instincts.
No matter how many times he burst forth, no matter how he roared and struggled, it was pointless. The suffocating force ignored his strength, crushed his spirit, and broke him down in every conceivable way.
He was nothing here.
After the seventh… or maybe the eighth time being shattered and rebuilt, Killian no longer struggled.
He lay there a mangled, twitching corpse. The flame aura surrounding him had long since faded, the fiery flush of Extremis dimmed to a mere ember.
And Soren finally stopped.
With a wave of his hand, the invisible assault vanished. The crushing pressure dissipated like mist.
Killian collapsed onto the ground, a heap of flesh, yet still clinging to life, his rapid, ragged breaths the only sign of his defiance.
In the suffocating silence, something glinted in his vision.
A slender scalpel appeared in Soren's fingers, gleaming silver in the fading light. Its sharp edge reflected not the sun, but the clinical cruelty in Soren's eyes.
For reasons he couldn't explain, fear deeper than anything Killian had ever known, took root in his heart.
It was only a scalpel.
A simple surgical tool.
But in his hand… it felt like something that could take away his very existence.
Shhlick.
The blade moved with impossible speed. Killian never even felt the cut, no pain, no warmth of blood , but somewhere deep inside...
Something was missing.
He felt as though a piece of his soul had been delicately severed.
Soren twirled the scalpel once and made it vanish into thin air. His expression hadn't changed.
"Alright." Soren said quietly, as if addressing no one in particular.
"You can go now."
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
Fellow Phantoms and aspiring Phantoms to be, if you seek to access advanced parts of this story procced to my shadowy realm of p@treon.
PhantomDream