Chapter 115: I Don't Want to Run Naked
Happy's eyes slowly opened.
His vision was blurry at first.
The white hospital lights overhead gradually came into focus.
Then he noticed someone sitting beside the bed.
"Boss..."
His voice was weak.
Dry.
The memories of the explosion immediately surfaced.
"That guy..."
"He wasn't a terrorist."
"He started burning from the inside..."
Tony sat beside him and gently patted his shoulder.
"I know, Happy."
"You've done enough."
"Get some rest."
Happy tried to sit up.
"But—"
"Two weeks."
Tony cut him off immediately.
"If you touch a single document, answer a single work email, or even look at your desk during those two weeks, you're fired."
Happy opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
He looked at Tony.
Then toward Lynn, who was standing near the doorway.
Finally, he gave up and shut his eyes.
For once, he wasn't going to win that argument.
Several minutes later, medical personnel arrived.
Happy was carefully transferred into an SUV for continued recovery.
Once everything was settled, Tony returned to the clinic for one final conversation.
"I had Jarvis prepare the Arc Reactor licensing package."
He stopped beside the counter.
"The patent architecture documents will be sent to your encrypted email tomorrow."
Lynn didn't even look up from his paperwork.
"Before nine o'clock in the morning."
Tony sighed.
"...Fine."
He headed toward the door.
His hand reached the handle.
Then he paused.
For several seconds, he remained standing there.
Without turning around.
When he finally spoke, his voice was unusually quiet.
"Lynn."
"Hm?"
"When you looked at that Extremis sample earlier..."
Tony slowly narrowed his eyes.
"There was a look in your eyes."
Lynn adjusted his glasses.
"What look?"
"The look of a man seeing something he wants."
Tony finally turned around.
"The look of greed."
Lynn's expression didn't change.
"Mr. Stark."
"I believe you're mistaken."
"That was professional curiosity."
"Is that what we're calling it now?"
Tony smirked.
Lynn offered no reply.
A few seconds later, Tony opened the door and left.
The engines of three vehicles started outside.
Moments later, they disappeared down the street.
The clinic became quiet once more.
Lynn locked the entrance.
Lowered the blinds.
Then headed downstairs.
Inside the underground laboratory, he activated a quantum-encrypted communication terminal.
Within seconds, countless files appeared across multiple screens.
Global news reports.
Intelligence intercepts.
S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance summaries.
Military incident records.
All related to one topic.
Unexplained Human Combustion Events.
The All-Seeing Eye processed the information instantly.
Within the last month alone, seventeen confirmed incidents had occurred worldwide.
Six across the United States.
Three throughout Europe.
Two in the Middle East.
And several others hidden beneath classified reports.
Despite their geographical separation, every case followed the same pattern.
Rapid temperature increase.
Glowing red skin.
Extreme thermal instability.
Followed by catastrophic detonation.
Every victim also shared remarkably similar backgrounds.
Military veterans.
Severe amputees.
Recipients of experimental regenerative treatment.
AIM's test subjects.
People desperate enough to believe impossible promises.
The promise of regrowing lost limbs.
The promise of becoming whole again.
The Extremis Virus delivered exactly that.
Until it didn't.
Its regeneration algorithm remained unstable.
Approximately one-third of recipients eventually overloaded.
And exploded.
Aldrich Killian didn't care.
One failed subject simply meant another volunteer.
There was never a shortage of desperate people.
Lynn closed the terminal.
The situation was unfortunate.
But not his problem.
Killian belonged to Tony Stark.
To S.H.I.E.L.D.
To the Avengers.
Not him.
For two days, nothing happened.
Then the third day arrived.
At exactly eleven o'clock in the morning, Lynn was wrapping a delivery worker's sprained ankle when the All-Seeing Eye detected something unusual.
A powerful thermal signature.
Distance:
230 meters.
Approaching rapidly.
Temperature:
1,200°C.
Still increasing.
Lynn immediately stopped bandaging.
The delivery worker blinked.
"Uh..."
"It's finished."
Lynn stood.
"Come back in three days for follow-up treatment."
Before the man could even say thank you, he found himself gently but firmly pushed out the front door.
Then the screaming started.
Pedestrians fled.
Cars slammed on their brakes.
People scattered across the street.
A man stumbled around the corner.
His appearance was horrifying.
A military jacket hung from his body in charred fragments.
His right sleeve was empty.
Or rather—
Had been empty.
The severed arm was growing back.
At an alarming speed.
Red-hot flesh expanded from the stump.
Muscle fibers formed.
Bones extended.
Skin attempted to regenerate.
But the process was catastrophically unstable.
The arm wasn't rebuilding correctly.
Bones emerged at impossible angles.
Too many fingers appeared.
Muscles twisted unnaturally.
The entire limb resembled molten wax crudely molded into the shape of a human arm.
His skin had become nearly translucent.
Beneath it, glowing muscles and blood vessels radiated orange-red light.
His entire body resembled a furnace contained within fragile human flesh.
The All-Seeing Eye automatically began analysis.
Body Surface Temperature: 1,800°C
Continuing to rise.
Brainstem Extremis Infection Rate: 100%
Cellular Rewrite Completion: 97%
Estimated Overload Countdown: 57 Seconds
Estimated Blast Yield: Equivalent to 200kg TNT
Enough to destroy half a city block.
The man's gaze eventually found the clinic sign.
Miracle Clinic.
His eyes were filled with pain.
Fear.
Hope.
Desperation.
His lips moved.
No sound emerged.
His vocal cords had already been destroyed.
Yet Lynn easily understood.
His enhanced senses read the movement perfectly.
"Help me."
At the same moment, additional thermal signatures entered his perception.
Several hundred meters away.
Armed personnel.
Rapidly approaching.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
They weren't coming to save the man.
They were coming to eliminate a walking bomb.
Lynn pushed open the clinic door.
"Everyone back off."
His voice echoed through the street.
Agents immediately hesitated.
Then they recognized him.
Lynn stepped outside.
No environmental suit.
No thermal protection.
No specialized equipment.
His white coat hung loosely open.
A few scraps of medical tape from the delivery worker's treatment still clung to his clothing.
The contrast was absurd.
Ahead of him stood a human furnace capable of leveling buildings.
Behind him stood a clinic.
And Lynn looked as though he'd merely stepped outside to buy coffee.
The distance between them was roughly thirty meters.
The asphalt had already begun melting.
Black liquid pooled across the road.
The air itself warped under the intense heat.
Every step forward produced a sticky crunch beneath Lynn's shoes.
The All-Seeing Eye updated continuously.
Ten meters.
Temperature: 400°C.
Five meters.
Temperature: 550°C.
Three meters.
Temperature: 620°C.
At those temperatures, ordinary human skin would carbonize almost instantly.
Lynn felt the heat.
It was intense.
Like standing directly before an open industrial blast furnace.
But that was all.
The Immortal Divine Body's conceptual resistance transformed lethal thermal energy into little more than uncomfortable warmth.
A hot summer day.
Nothing more.
Still.
Lynn activated his biological symbiotic adaptation.
A thin defensive layer spread across his body.
Not because he feared injury.
Because he preferred not to destroy his clothing.
Running around naked would be inconvenient.
One step later, he stood directly before the burning veteran.
The man's eyes had begun melting.
Boiling liquid covered their surfaces.
Yet Extremis continued repairing the damage.
Rebuilding.
Burning.
Rebuilding again.
An endless cycle.
32 Seconds Until Critical Detonation
"Can you still hear me?"
Lynn's voice remained calm.
The man barely moved.
His lips trembled.
No sound emerged.
But Lynn understood.
"Help..."
"Me..."
Lynn slowly raised his right hand.
His equipment bag contained numerous medical tools.
None of them could survive these temperatures.
Not for even a second.
So he abandoned the idea.
His bare hand pressed directly against the man's forehead.
Instantly—
The contact temperature surged.
2,300°C.
Enough to melt steel.
Enough to reduce ordinary flesh to vapor.
Yet no burns appeared on Lynn's skin.
The Immortal Divine Body automatically adapted.
Its energy membrane restructured itself at the microscopic level.
The overwhelming thermal energy was absorbed.
Converted.
Neutralized.
Simultaneously, Vibranium Resonance activated.
Absorbing the kinetic shock generated by the thermal radiation itself.
To Lynn, the sensation was almost comical.
Like touching an overly hot cup of tea.
Uncomfortable.
But harmless.
His left hand remained steady.
Holding a syringe.
Inside it was a transparent silver solution.
The emergency prototype he had prepared after studying the Extremis Virus.
And with only thirty-two seconds remaining before the man became a living bomb—
Lynn was about to find out whether his calculations were correct.
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