[Third Person's PoV]
As Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching Mei bounce out excitedly, he smiled. "You can come in early tomorrow if you want," he said casually.
"Eh? Really!?" Mei's eyes lit up with excitement.
Tony nodded, chuckling at her enthusiasm. "Yeah, our internship ended early, so we'll be home all day. Feel free to come by earlier than usual."
"Yes!" Mei pumped her fist in the air, practically jumping with joy.
Tony laughed softly, finding her energy contagious. He watched as she got into her ride, making sure she was safely on her way home. Once the car drove off, he stretched his arms above his head, releasing a long groan of relief. Just as he was finishing, Melissa appeared, climbing up from the lab as Tony was about to head down.
"Heading to bed?" Tony asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah, I'm exhausted," Melissa replied, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. "You?"
"Just heading down to run one last test before I call it a night," Tony answered with a hint of determination.
Melissa leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight then."
Slap.
"Night," Tony replied with a smirk, watching her reaction.
Melissa yelped in surprise, rubbing her backside and shooting Tony a playful glare. "You bastard," she muttered under her breath, though a small smile tugged at her lips as she made her way upstairs to start her nighttime routine.
Tony grinned to himself, shaking his head as he descended back to the lab. "Can't help myself," He smirked.
…
Another readjustment had passed, and Tony stood by the observation window once again, his arms crossed as he looked down at the sterile room where the latest subject—Subject 11—was contained. SYB-011 was the latest iteration in a long line of symbiote attempts, and the previous failures had taught him more than he ever could have imagined. The parasitic energy drain, the unstable DNA responses—all of those had been accounted for in this version. Now, he hoped the next issue would not be as disastrous as the last.
"Friday, how's SYB-011 looking?" Tony asked, his tone firm but cautious.
"All preliminary scans indicate increased stability," Friday answered. "The symbiote's neurological bonding receptors have been recalibrated to ensure a more stable connection with the host's central nervous system."
"Good," Tony nodded. "Let's proceed. Baymax, is everything ready?"
"Yes," Baymax responded, waddling into the room with the now-familiar metal-and-glass cylinder in his arms. Inside, SYB-011 seemed calm, the black substance swirling in slow, deliberate patterns—almost as though it was waiting.
"Alright, let's give it a shot," Tony said, stepping back from the window as Baymax inserted the cylinder into the Cradle's chamber. The metal door hissed as it slid open, and the symbiote dropped into the containment room, hitting the floor with a soft splat.
Inside the room, Subject 11—a particularly large rat—seemed wary, but unlike previous subjects, it didn't shy away from the black mass moving toward it. Tony had specifically chosen this rat for its enhanced brain capacity, hoping it would handle the symbiote's neural bonding process better than its predecessors.
"SYB-011 has been released," Friday reported. "All systems are stable. No abnormal energy spikes or parasitic behavior detected."
The symbiote moved more deliberately than any of the earlier versions. It slithered across the floor, slow and cautious, as if studying its potential host. The rat sniffed the air, its eyes tracking the symbiote with curiosity rather than fear.
Tony watched closely, his pulse quickening. He had a strange feeling about this one. SYB-011 seemed... different. More intelligent, somehow.
"Beginning bonding process," Friday announced as the symbiote reached the rat.
The black goo slid up the rat's body with a fluid grace, its tendrils wrapping around the creature like a liquid cloak. For a few moments, everything seemed to be going well. The rat's breathing remained steady, and it didn't show any signs of panic. In fact, it looked almost calm.
"Bonding is proceeding smoothly," Friday confirmed. "Neural feedback is within acceptable limits. SYB-011 is integrating with the host's nervous system."
Tony let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Maybe this time...
Suddenly, the rat's eyes changed. They shifted from a dull brown to an inky black, glossy and unnerving. The creature's body twitched, not in distress, but in a way that suggested something else had taken over. Its head snapped upward, staring directly at the observation window where Tony stood.
Tony's stomach dropped.
"Friday, what's happening? Why is it looking at us like that? I don't have cheese in my pockets do I?" Tony asked, emptying his pockets. "What about you Baymax? Any cheese hidden in you?"
Baymax lifted his arms up, "I have none whatsoever… I shall go and retrieve some?"
"Host's neural activity is spiking," Friday reported, her voice more urgent now. "It appears SYB-011 has taken control of Subject 11's higher brain functions."
Tony's eyes widened. "You mean it's controlling the rat's mind?"
"Yes, boss. SYB-011 is directly influencing the host's motor cortex and prefrontal cortex. The symbiote is no longer in a symbiotic relationship—it's taken full control of the host's decision-making."
Tony cursed under his breath. He looked back at the rat, whose small body was now moving with an eerie precision, far more controlled than any rat should be. It wasn't scurrying around aimlessly anymore. Instead, it walked toward the containment door, its tiny claws tapping against the floor with purpose, black tendrils moving around like tentacles.
"Friday, lock down the room!" Tony barked. "We can't let this thing get out."
"Initiating lockdown procedures," Friday responded, but there was a note of concern in her voice. "Host behavior is escalating rapidly."
The rat reached the door and began scratching at it, its small body moving with unnatural strength. The black, glossy eyes remained fixed on the window, as if it knew Tony was watching—and as if it knew the door was its way out.
"Subject 11 is attempting to breach containment," Friday warned. "Its strength appears to be enhanced by the symbiote's influence."
"Well, no kidding," Tony muttered, watching as the rat slammed itself against the door with alarming force. It squeaked, but not like a normal rat. The sound was deeper, more guttural—almost human. The door rattled under the impacts.
"Baymax," Tony called, his voice tight. "Get in there and restrain it. We can't let it—"
Before he could finish, the containment door buckled. The rat let out another unnerving screech, throwing its full weight against the door trying to escape. Cracks spider-webbed across the reinforced glass.
"Boss" Friday started off, "the subject is displaying unusual levels of aggression. I recommend extreme caution."
"No kidding!" Tony shouted. "Friday, activate the fire suppression system! We need to neutralize it!"
"Activating now," Friday replied.
In an instant, flamethrowers descended from the ceiling, their nozzles aimed directly at the rat. Fire shot out, engulfing the symbiote and the host in a searing inferno. But instead of recoiling, the rat let out an ear-splitting screech, its body flailing wildly as the flames licked at its blackened skin.
The symbiote, however, wasn't giving up. It writhed and pulsed, trying to protect itself, but the flames were relentless. After several agonizing moments, the rat's movements slowed, then finally stopped. The black goo that had once been SYB-011 melted into a smoldering puddle, its attempts to break free now reduced to ashes.
Tony sighed, leaning back against the wall as the room quieted. His heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"Friday," he said after a long pause, "what went wrong this time?"
"The neural bond was too strong," Friday explained. "SYB-011 overpowered the host's mind, taking full control of its cognitive functions. The host was no longer a willing participant—it became a puppet for the symbiote."
Tony rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of another failure settle over him. "Great. So, now instead of exploding rats, we've got symbiotes trying to turn their hosts into mind-controlled zombies. Just what I needed."
"Shall I prepare the data for a review?" Friday asked.
"No, let's settle this tomorrow, we're closer than before" Tony muttered, shaking his head. "We've got to figure out how to limit the symbiote's influence over the host's brain. Otherwise, we're going to end up with something a lot worse than a rat trying to break out. Once we figure that out we should be good to go"
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