The super cruiser had just left the sector, Simon graciously handed the console back to his partner and the two had started moving to inspect the facility, they were simply here to inspect the progress and report.
This was the standard procedure, on fact they were supposed to be inspecting the facility that had just ben raided but where side tracked with by passing government permits, getting on planet was a lot harder than one would imagine.
As Simon and Droll reviewed the facility, well mostly Simon, he was the one actually carrying put the inspection, his companion was simply too bored to care, only paying attention when an alarm sounded.
"Containment breach!" A scientist shouted as one of them broke through the wall. It was a bald man with dark skin who stood at a size similar to the monstrous-looking executive, his large hands swatting aside their projectiles, actively turning the guards to paste, even the more dense ones had their bones crushed.
The slender man shook his head, letting out a deep sigh, "Simon?" The giant nodded and ran forward to meet the bald man. The two locking arms in an attempt to push the other back, the mans muscles bulged and twitched, his feet sinking into the metal-covered floor.
"Hah, they don't catch ones as strong as you anymore; what did you do for a living?" Simon laughed, taking a step forward, causing beads of sweat to fall from the man's head, the disbelief on his face becoming more apparent. "I, think I remember seeing your file, you were employed in the construction industry, where you not?"
The man huffed, his size increasing, steam streaming from his nostrils. He took one step forward, pushing back the ogre like behemoth. His confidence renewed; he had attempted to take another step only to be met with laughter.
The giant hand momentarily released himself from their clasp and balled its hands into a fist, slamming them into the man's back, his body accelerating into the metal ground, causing it to warp and deform.
"Did you kill him?". His partner asked carefully, observing the man's body twitch and shrink; he seemed to be in a lot of pain, which obviously meant he was alive, but his friend had to enquire.
The behemoth snorted and gestured towards the subject's body and replied with a rather satisfied tone, "It is not in anyone's best interests if I start prematurely killing test subjects." The man's partner nodded in acknowledgement and gestured for them to move the body out of sight.
This was a rather rare but also a rather frequent occurrence. After all, no one wanted to be a test subject. A man wearing a hazard mask walked past the body of the recaptured specimen and spread his arms wide.
"Welcome, dear executives, this is facility Z-3." The man's voice was distorted by static under the mask, giving it the feel that he was talking through a radio. The man spun on his heels towards the door that had seemingly materialized out of thin air.
The two nodded as they walked behind the little scientist, who had continued with his rather jovial introductions. "You see, my dear executives, the noble goal of recreating the original experiment is going terribly.".
This had caused both of them to raise an eyebrow; there were very few individuals who would openly admit that their research was failing, even less so right to the face of the very executives themselves.
The man looked over his shoulder at the taken-aback pair and continued on with his rant's "You see, the specimens might be plentiful, but failure is so common; recreating the original experiment requires a compatible host, one we have yet to find."
This caused Simon to scratch his head; he was well aware of the need for the finding of the compatible hosts since most bodies deteriorated far too quickly, but what puzzled him more was how frank the man was in his complaints. "Are you a Minca?"
The man stopped and turned towards the giant executive "Is it that obvious?". Simon just shook his head and gestured for the man to continue, as far as he knew, the Minca where and immigrant species of technopaths with origins they couldn't truly decipher, they appeared along with the abyss beasts in the middle of the great collision war but that's all anyone knows.
"You must be the one they call Nostradamus." The smaller black-haired man acclaimed, earning him a chuckle from the man in the hazmat suit, who spun around and bowed slightly. "If you're here, then there must be something new you have to tell us."
The man in the hazmat suit nodded, stretching out his hand and allowing someone to place a small circular disc in his hands. pushing a button on the disk a projection of words appeared on the screen in front of them.
"You see, we found some of the original documents of Xavier Maximus." The moment he said his name, the temperature of the room had dropped several degrees, and it all felt like thousands of eyes were swarming around on every reflective surface, staring directly into their bodies.
This was an effect that took place whenever the said individual's full name was mentioned; they had yet to understand why this phenomenon took place. For those who liked to tell stories, there was a rumor that mentioning his name during travels would get you killed; some argued it was protection.
The behemoth-like executive exhaled, his breath forming fog as he did so, proving the temperature drop was a lot more than just a psychological phenomenon, as for whatever this implied, he wasn't quite sure.
"Hmm, that fellow is quite attentive today." The black-haired, slender man furrowed his brows. It was true that the man often responded to his name, but never as intensely as this, the man had thought, perhaps for a split second that perhaps their leaders' banter wasn't insane jitter.
The man in the hazmat suit swiped his hand, and the words started to move across the screen: "You see, apparently the owner of this record had two specific conditions that allowed his research to thrive." He swiped the screen again, causing it to expand. "He possessed an ability that allowed him to take control of other people's bodies and usurp their ensuing abilities."
The giant stroked his chin and contemplated the implications of the scientist's words. "You see, ever since that man disappeared, the ability almost never appeared. The mere genetic predisposition towards it causing early death"
The man flipped the screen again, bringing up the image of a white-haired boy with red eyes alongside the notes, "About a year or so ago we had in custody someone whom of whom had this predisposition."
This caused the executives to groan, they all remember the raid a year ago, it was a rather hectic period, and they received a lot of sanctions from the government and had to hand over a lot of their research data, their leader was still rather displeased. "I hate this job"