𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸
The lab was cold and sterile, illuminated by the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. Omega was laid out on a clinical white table, his body still trembling from the immense transformation it had just undergone. The air was thick with tension as a team of scientists bustled around him, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. They prepared an array of IV solutions, blood sampling kits, and monitoring equipment, the cacophony of beeping machines filling the otherwise quiet room.
"Set up the IV drip—nutrients and hydration," Dr. Volkov ordered, his voice steady yet urgent. He glanced down at Omega's still form, noting the boy's rapid growth during the cocoon phase. "We need to stabilize him and ensure he has the resources to recover properly."
As they began to hook up the IV lines, Omega's heart rate was monitored closely. The machines beeped rhythmically, displaying data on screens surrounding the table. "His vitals are steady but elevated," one technician remarked, adjusting the leads attached to Omega's chest. "We'll need to keep a close eye on him."
Dr. Volkov nodded, keeping his gaze locked on the boy. "Prepare to take blood samples. I want to see how the energy from the Scepter has affected his physiology."
Once everything was in place, the team proceeded with the blood draw. As the needle pierced Omega's skin, a collective gasp filled the room. They were taken aback as they observed the blood leaving his body; it was vibrant, shimmering faintly with a dark green hue.
"Look at this!" another scientist exclaimed, pointing at the monitor. "His healing factor is... extraordinary. It's as if his body is compensating for the time he lost in that cocoon."
Dr. Volkov furrowed his brow, scrutinizing the readings. "This is beyond anything we anticipated. We need to document everything—this could change everything for our experiments."
As they continued their tests, Omega remained unconscious, his features serene despite the chaos surrounding him. The team ran a variety of tests, checking his blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen levels. They meticulously recorded every piece of data, eager to understand the extent of his transformation.
Then, the moment arrived. Omega began to stir. His eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing glowing green irises that seemed to pulse with energy. The scientists collectively held their breath, mesmerized by the sight.
In that instant, Omega unintentionally projected his consciousness outward, brushing against the minds of those around him. Memories, fears, and thoughts flooded into him—each vivid and overwhelming. The scientists gasped, momentarily losing their focus as they felt the weight of his presence pressing against their minds.
Suddenly, the flood of information became too much for Omega to handle. His brow furrowed in concentration, trying to control the onslaught of sensory input, but it was like a tidal wave crashing over him. A flash of images—his training, the Scepter, and the faces of his captors—assailed him. The world spun, the voices of the scientists fading into a distant murmur.
With a choked gasp, Omega's eyes rolled back, and he succumbed to the darkness once again, the glow of his eyes flickering before extinguishing completely. The room fell silent, the scientists staring at him in shock.
Dr. Volkov stepped forward, his expression a mix of awe and concern. "Get him stabilized! We need to monitor his neurological activity. This level of psychic ability... it's unprecedented. We've only begun to scratch the surface of what he can do."
𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸
Darkness enveloped Omega, a comforting void that offered no pain or struggle. But within that void, a kaleidoscope of memories began to surge, each one more vivid than the last. Images and sensations crashed over him like waves, pulling him deeper into a past life he had almost forgotten.
He was no longer the weapon created by HYDRA; he was just a boy. A normal boy. He could see himself lying in a hospital bed, the smell of antiseptic and sterile gauze wrapping around him like a shroud. It felt so real, so familiar.
He remembered the soft touch of his mother's hand as she sat by his side, her voice soothing and gentle, telling him stories that transported him far away from the sterile white walls. Her laughter had been the most beautiful music, and he could almost hear it now, ringing in his ears like a distant bell.
His father would come in after work, his face weary but brightening at the sight of his son. They would share jokes and laughter, the kind that only fathers and sons can understand. Sometimes they would play games on the small console his dad brought in, spending hours battling through digital worlds, completely engrossed in their own little universe.
Then there were his sisters. He could see them, their faces filled with youthful mischief. They would invade his hospital room, bouncing in with colorful balloons and loud voices, their antics both annoying and endearing. They would bring his favorite snacks—though they were always sneaking bites themselves—and he could remember the joy of sharing those moments, even when they drove him crazy.
The memories began to shift, taking him to the afternoons spent in the hospital lounge. It was there he discovered Marvel. He would curl up in a corner chair, clutching comic books with iconic covers that promised adventures beyond his dreary hospital stay. The heroes leaped off the pages—Spider-Man swinging between skyscrapers, Iron Man soaring through the sky, and Captain America standing firm against tyranny.
He felt the thrill of each story, the hope that these characters inspired within him. They were powerful, they were brave, and in those moments, he felt like he could be brave too. With each turn of the page, he forgot his pain, if only for a little while.
As the memories flooded back, Omega could feel the warmth of his past life, a stark contrast to the cold reality he now faced. But then the brightness dimmed, and a shadow fell over his memories—the oppressive weight of his illness, the treatments that sapped his strength, the nights spent awake, consumed by pain and fear. He could remember the doctor's words, the somber tones, the finality of the diagnosis: cancer.
Images of him sitting alone, staring out of the hospital window at the world moving on without him, made him ache. The friends he had lost touch with, the life he would never live, flashed before him like a cruel joke. But amid that darkness, the memories of laughter, love, and resilience began to shine brighter. They had been his refuge, his escape, in those moments of despair. but he remembers the love and world he and his family the love of his mother the affection of his father
"I don't want to go back!" Omega's voice trembled, lost in the void. "I want to stay here!"
But the void remained indifferent to his pleas, and the memories surged forward, unstoppable. He remembered his mother's voice, soft and soothing as she sat beside him, holding his hand during his worst days. His father's laughter, rough but full of love, echoed in his ears, a reminder of the life he had been forced to leave behind. His sisters, always finding a way to annoy him, now felt like distant dreams. They would argue over the smallest things—who got the last slice of pie, who would sit in the front seat—but those moments now shimmered with the brightness of a life that once was.
"I miss you!" he screamed into the blackness, his voice cracking with desperation. "I want to go back to you! I want to feel your love again!"
But there was no answer, only the crushing silence of the void. His chest ached with longing, the weight of his yearning nearly unbearable. Images of his family played on a loop—his mother's cooking filling the house with warmth, the way his dad would ruffle his hair, calling him the "big man" of the house. He could almost taste the bittersweet flavor of those memories. Every smile, every laugh, every argument—it was all so vivid, yet so heartbreakingly out of reach.
"Why did I have to go?" Omega wailed, tears stinging his eyes. "Why did I have to die? I was just a kid!"
"I don't want to be Omega!" he cried, the frustration building into a raw, throaty scream. "I want to be me again! I want my life back!"
He remembered the nights when he would escape into stories—watching movies, reading comics, letting his mind drift into worlds filled with heroes and villains, where good triumphed over evil. In those moments, he didn't have cancer. He wasn't dying. He was free. But now, in this twisted new reality, even those dreams had turned to nightmares.
The void pulsed with an oppressive weight, the darkness pressing harder against him, as if it were a living thing, suffocating his cries. The warmth of his family's love—the only light he had left—seemed to dim further, slipping away like sand between his fingers.
"I don't want to face what's out there..." His voice grew quieter, hoarse with exhaustion. "I can't."
But the void didn't care. It offered no mercy, no comfort, only the suffocating cold of his new existence—a life where he wasn't Jakub anymore, but Omega, a weapon in the hands of Hydra. He was something else entirely now, something alien, molded and manipulated into a tool of destruction.
"Please... let me stay," he whispered, broken. "I can't face what's waiting for me."
But there was no refuge here, only the haunting silence of the void, and the overwhelming reality that there would be no escape. Omega's chest heaved with silent sobs, his heart aching for the love he had lost, the life that had been ripped away from him.
For a brief moment, he thought he felt his mother's hand again, comforting him in the hospital bed. He wanted to believe that she was still there, still watching over him. But even that was slipping away. He was alone. Truly alone.
"I'll never forget you," he promised through gritted teeth, fighting the darkness with the only weapon he had left—his memories. "I'll hold onto every single moment. I swear... I'll remember."
𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸
Suddenly, Omega jolted awake, a scream tearing from his throat as tears streamed down his face. The emotions that had been pent up in the void surged forth like a tidal wave, raw and unfiltered. In that moment of overwhelming distress, a powerful psychic blast erupted from him, radiating outward in pulsating waves of dark green energy. His anguish, despair, and rage intertwined, manifesting into a force so potent it rippled through the very fabric of the bunker and beyond, touching everyone sensitive to such power.
The psychic energy spilled forth, a chaotic storm that overwhelmed the minds of those nearby. It was as if the universe itself trembled in response to his turmoil, resonating with the raw emotion that coursed through him. In that instant, anyone with psychic abilities felt the echoes of his pain reverberating within them, the intensity of his struggle threading into their consciousness.
Among those disturbed by the outburst was the Ancient One, who sensed the disturbance from her sanctuary. A flicker of unease coursed through her as she recognized the formidable energy emanating from a distant source. This boy was unlike any she had encountered, a raw power that bore the marks of both trauma and potential.
At the same time, Wanda Maximoff felt the psychic waves wash over her, causing her to clutch her head in sudden pain. The familiar sensation of someone else's anguish tugged at her heart, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. Bucky Barnes, across the globe, halted mid-training, the piercing sound of Omega's scream echoing in his mind. He staggered back, clutching his temples as the energy surged through him, causing memories long buried to flicker at the edges of his consciousness.
And in the depths of the lab, the Mind Stone reacted, glowing ominously as it pulsed in rhythm with the chaotic energy that Omega had unleashed.
𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸