Evan Mercer sat in his apartment, legs crossed, eyes sharp as he went over the final details in his mind. His Enhanced Neural Processing had already laid out the entire framework of what he needed to do next. A biotech company. A front for genetic research. A place where he could study, experiment, and ultimately integrate mutant DNA into his own body.
Amelia Voght sat across from him, still wary, still cautious. She didn't fully trust him yet. That was fine. She would.
"You've been thinking about something for the past twenty minutes," she said, watching him. "I don't like it."
Evan smirked slightly, setting down his cup of coffee. "Good instincts. You're right—I'm planning something. And you're going to be part of it."
She narrowed her eyes. "If this is about your so-called 'biotech company,' you still haven't convinced me why I should help."
Evan leaned forward. "Because it benefits you more than anyone else."
She scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?".
Evan clasped his hands together, voice calm but commanding. "What's your long-term plan, Amelia? Keep running forever? Hiding from Essex Corp? Hoping Magneto's people don't force you into their little war?"
Her jaw tightened at the mention of Magneto.
"You think they won't come looking for you? You were a nurse, weren't you? You've seen what happens to mutants who don't have power—who don't have protection."
She remained silent.
Evan continued. "But if you work with me? You're no longer a runaway mutant. You're the CEO of a multinational biotech company. A powerful, public figure. No one can take you without making it a global incident."
Her fingers clenched into fists. She wanted to argue. But she couldn't. Because he was right.
She had been hunted for too long. She had no allies. No real future. This wasn't just survival. This was a way to fight back.
She exhaled slowly. "Let's say I agree. How do you plan to start a biotech company overnight? Investors don't just throw money at ideas without proof."
Evan smiled. "I already know the right people. All they need is the right incentive."
Amelia frowned. "Who?"
"The people who fund projects that can't exist on public records," Evan replied. "Black budget investors. Wealthy men who need places to put their money where the government can't track it. People who have no problem investing in biotech, provided they can benefit from it."
Amelia gave him a skeptical look. "And how exactly do you have those connections?"
Evan leaned back. "That's where you're underestimating me."
Three days later, Evan was sitting inside one of New York's most exclusive private lounges. He had spent the last few days gathering information, making the right calls, and ensuring he got the meeting he needed.
These weren't ordinary businessmen.
These were men with deep connections to military contracts, secret projects, and industries that had more power than the government itself. The kind of men who had funded genetic experiments, black-ops research, and human enhancement projects before the world even knew about mutants.
The old guard.
Across from him sat Howard Vance, a Wall Street kingmaker who had ties to covert research groups. To his right was Victor Langley, a real estate mogul who had funneled money into experimental science divisions. The last man, Conrad Holt, had once been an advisor to several government think tanks on biological warfare.
These men had funded projects before.
They just needed the right sales pitch.
Vance stared at Evan, unimpressed. "You have two minutes to impress me, kid. Talk."
Evan met his gaze without blinking. "Biotech is the next trillion-dollar industry. Not pharmaceuticals, not oil, not technology—genetics."
Vance raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.
"In ten years, every major government will be investing in genetic research. Disease resistance, enhanced immunity, organ regeneration—these aren't theories anymore. The Soviet Union, China, and even certain U.S. groups are already developing classified projects to push human biology to the next level."
Langley adjusted his tie. "You're speaking in broad strokes. What do you have that makes you different?"
Evan leaned in slightly. "Because my company won't be limited by government oversight. No ethics committees, no bureaucratic red tape. We'll be at the cutting edge of genetics because we won't be restrained by outdated policies."
Vance narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly is your company planning to research?"
Evan smirked. "A method to integrate enhanced genes into human biology without rejection."
For the first time, all three men actually looked interested.
Holt, the former government advisor, finally spoke. "You're talking about controlled genetic augmentation."
Evan nodded. "Exactly. Every attempt at biological enhancement so far has failed because the human body rejects foreign modifications. What if I told you I had a method to fix that?"
Langley leaned back, considering. "You're asking us to invest in an unproven project. Why should we believe you have the method to make it work?"
Evan's smirk deepened. "Because I've already tested the preliminary theory."
That was a lie.
But they didn't know that.
Vance stared at him for a long moment, then chuckled. "You're a dangerous little bastard, aren't you?"
Evan remained silent, waiting.
Vance turned to his colleagues. "I like him. He's ambitious. He knows how the game is played." He turned back to Evan. "How much do you need?"
Evan barely blinked. "Ten million to start."
Langley raised an eyebrow. "That's a bold ask."
"Bold investments bring bold returns," Evan replied smoothly.
A slow smirk crept onto Vance's face. "Done. You'll have the money in a week."
Evan extended his hand.
Vance shook it.
The deal was made.
One week later, Mercer Biotech was officially registered. A legitimate biotech firm on paper, focused on cutting-edge genetic research.
The real goal?
To study and integrate mutant DNA into the human genome.
Evan handled the business, negotiations, and hidden operations.
Amelia handled the public image, investors, and media presence.
They worked seamlessly.
At first, Amelia was skeptical.
But after watching Evan manipulate billionaires, dismantle competitors, and control entire rooms with his words, she began to see him differently.
This wasn't just a man trying to survive.
This was a man building something unstoppable.
One night, after a long strategy meeting, Amelia leaned against Evan's desk, arms crossed.
"You're dangerous," she muttered, staring at him.
Evan glanced up from his paperwork. "That's not a complaint."
She smirked. "No. It's a warning."
Evan stood, moving toward her. "You're still trying to figure me out."
She tilted her head slightly. "I don't trust people easily."
"Good," Evan said. "Trust is earned."
Silence stretched between them. Something unspoken passed in the air.
For the first time, Amelia saw him not just as a strategist, not just as a businessman—but as a man. He was calm, controlled, and yet… undeniably compelling.
She looked away. "We should get some rest. Big day tomorrow."
Evan smirked. "Of course."
She left the room.
Evan watched her go, already knowing.
She was falling into his orbit.
It was only a matter of time.
Mercer Biotech was now officially operational.
Evan had funding, legitimacy, and a growing influence.
But now, the real work began.
Essex Corp wouldn't sit still. Someone would come looking for Amelia.
And Evan?
Evan was waiting.