Hypothesis 2: If Moore's DNA were compatible with oxygen, the two could bond, combining into water—two hydrogen atoms joining with one oxygen atom—and then escape in the form of water.
He smirked to himself, amused by the absurdity of it all. "But fire can terminate water," he muttered to himself, as if to remind himself that such a simple theory could only take him so far. He let the idea sit for a moment before dismissing it entirely. The problem wasn't with the theory—it was the practical application.
The rescuer had not used water-based technology to free Moore. But that didn't mean the idea wouldn't come in handy later.
Dr. Bin stood up and pulled a plastic sheet from a drawer, a new experiment forming in his mind. He tucked it into his coat pocket as he prepared to leave the lab. "I'll get back at you, even if you're living in the wind," he muttered to himself, speaking to no one in particular, but his words filled with purpose and vengeance. He stepped out of the lab, determined to finish what he had started.
---
Meanwhile, the city was abuzz with stories. Each witness had a different account of what happened during Moore's rescue, and with each retelling, the story grew more fantastical. Bret, who had witnessed the event firsthand, claimed that a blade had appeared out of nowhere, a weapon with seemingly no origin. Ms. Perry, on the other hand, described a blade and a terrifying monster involved in the police officer's death. Dr. Lao's account added a new twist: a car-machine had also been part of the mix. What started as a simple story of a mysterious blade had now evolved into an intricate tale involving a monstrous being, a strange weapon, and a car-machine hybrid. Each new account only added to the confusion, fueling speculation that more dangerous weapons were being developed in secret.
Dick, meanwhile, had successfully sent Moore back to New York. While he hadn't heard from him since, he hoped Moore had reached Kathryn and was bringing her the long-awaited news that her son was safe. For Dick, that was a source of relief, and he couldn't help but smile as he thought of the happiness Kathryn would feel.
The quiet Saturday morning he had hoped for was quickly disrupted.
On Saturday morning, he had planned to stay in bed, enjoying the tranquility and peace. From all his struggles and toil, Saturday could bring some consolation. He hoped Alex would go out so he could have some uninterrupted time to rest. But Alex stayed inside. Dick knew what would happen with his father around, he just had to get wood for the house. Grabbing an axe, he headed for the farm to get some work done.
Dick's first task was simple: a large tree had fallen, and it needed to be dealt with. As he was about to break it, he discovered a simpler task and decided to focus on it.
He heard the unmistakable sound of a blade slicing through the air. His mind raced as he realized that the blade, the monster, and the car-machine were all present and moving toward him.
With a quick glance around, he noted four trees ahead that might provide cover. He needed to move fast. As the blade came at him, Dick swung his axe with all his strength, blocking the attack with a loud clash. The impact sent both the blade and the axe flying in opposite directions. The blade cut through a large tree nearby, sending it toppling toward him.
Dick quickly calculated the trajectory of the falling tree. He ducked and moved out of the way, narrowly avoiding the trunk as it crashed to the ground, landing between him and Mikey—the monster he had to face. The brief moment of respite gave Dick just enough time to think. Mikey charged forward, not stopping for anything. The fight had begun, and Dick knew this would not be easy.
Mikey was fast. Too fast. But Dick had something Mikey didn't: patience and strategy. He knew the key to overcoming this beast wasn't in brute strength but in outwitting him.
Mikey launched a vicious double-footed kick, one aimed at Dick's stomach, the other at his chest. Dick dodged with precision, stepping behind another tree. He let Mikey attack again, purposefully allowing the monster to think he had the upper hand. As Mikey closed in, Dick feigned ignorance, allowing Mikey to charge forward with a headbutt. Just as Mikey's head came down toward him, Dick struck with a brutal jab to Mikey's jaw.
Blood—metallic blood—splattered as the blow landed. Dick's hand throbbed in pain. His fingers ached from the impact, and he realized that Mikey's jaw was made of metal, not bone. This was no ordinary human opponent. This was something far more dangerous.
Dick quickly assessed his next move. He needed to understand Mikey—needed to learn who or what Mikey really was. He couldn't afford to waste time. He pulled the axe free from where it had lodged in the fallen tree and threw it toward another nearby log. His mind raced, looking for a way to pin Mikey down.
Mikey, meanwhile, had retreated toward the car engine, the same machine Dick had encountered when rescuing Moore. Mikey tapped a screen on the engine, and the blade reappeared. Dick's instincts screamed for him to stay clear of the blade. It was a dangerous weapon, and he needed to keep his distance.
But Mikey wasn't finished. With a quick movement, Mikey grabbed the blade, and Dick realized that Mikey had figured out his strategy. He didn't bother to continue the fight, Mikey flew away.
Dick's heart raced at the realization that he had been found. Mikey had linked him to the car engine, and now his presence here wasn't just a chance. He knew there would be more attack and he had to prepare.
To fight this monster, he had to master the use of his hands, legs and other parts of his body. The recent fight victory was by chance because he could not use his hand not leg as it supposed to be. Strength alone wasn't enough. Dick needed to develop himself roundly.
It was then that Dick realized he had a choice to make. What should he call himself? The name "Ant-Man" had crossed his mind, but it felt inadequate. He didn't want to be limited by that name. Perhaps "Man-Ant" was a better option—one that emphasized both his humanity and his extraordinary abilities. But for now, that was a decision for later. The fight ahead was more important, and he needed all his focus on surviving Mikey's next move.
Dick took a deep breath and sighed. He wasn't ready for the battle ahead, but he had no choice. The stakes were too high. He had come too far to fail now. With his resolve solidifying, he prepared for the fight to come.
---
By Monday morning, Dick had made up his mind on what to do. He was going to find Mikey and confront him once and for all. Mikey was a master of martial arts, known for training a group of devoted students who followed him about. But it wasn't just Mikey's fighting skills that made him dangerous—it was his reputation. He had drawn the attention of the tough and gentle. Those who did not belong to his group still had regards for him.
Mikey's backstory was legendary. He had grown up in Florida, where he was a troublemaker from a young age. His aggressive tendencies often led to problems at school and home, so his father had sent him to study under a Chinese master named Chan Lu. Under Chan Lu's tutelage, Mikey had focused his energy and honed his skills for five years. Mikey had learned the discipline and control that came with martial arts, but beneath the surface, the anger and aggression never truly left him.
Now, Mikey was a force to be reckoned with, and Dick knew he had to approach him carefully. The stakes were higher than ever before. This was one battle he couldn't afford to lose.
When Mikey showed up, just as Dick had expected, he was alone. The confrontation was inevitable, and Dick knew it was time to face his fears. He called Mikey's name, his voice steady despite the tension in his chest.
Mikey turned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Dick. This was it. The fight was about to begin.
Mikey thought Dick was going to cause trouble as he believed his look was just a pretence since they had a fight only yesterday. He mentally prepared himself, standing tall like a martial arts master. As Dick approached, Mikey stood still, an innocent smile spreading across his face, his eyes shining with the anticipation of the opportunity to act at slightest provocation.
"Yeah," Mikey muttered, pretending indifference but clearly pleased.