When Joe finally came to, his eyelids hesitantly fluttered open only to see the blinding overhead lights that made him nearly go blind. Squinting his eyes, he scanned his surroundings and sighed internally when he saw his lab's familiar white walls.

The white walls, the rather spacious square room, and the mix of different advanced technology equipment oddly made him feel like a trapped specimen. It was a suffocating feeling and it momentarily made him experience helplessness. Joe couldn't understand why, but thank goodness, the hazy fog surrounding his mind began clearing.

"This feeling... It's a visual illusion. I've not been...trapped. No, maybe my past self was the one who had been caged." Joe propped up his upper torso before he gradually stood up.

There was a trace of supreme enlightenment settling in his eyes as he intently observed his two intact hands.

"This is freedom. Liberation."

"Joe? Joe? How are you? Do you feel any discomfort?" Minerva's caring and concerned voice sliced through his muddled state. She then materialized beside him.

"Hey, Minerva. I missed you." Joe smirked at the worrisome look on Minerva's holographic face.

"What are you even talking about? I've been worried sick about you and that's the only thing you have to say," Minerva scolded him, puffing her cheeks.

"I thought you were a goner. The moment you shut down, you flatlined for a WHOLE minute. And I…I thought—"

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, little one. Everything's alright." Joe was touched by Minerva's deep care for him. Her sentience was terrifyingly improving, especially her emotional intelligence. Minerva was truly a miracle he'd had created and her manifestation would soon shine brilliantly.

"There, there. Aren't I breathing? That's what matters." Joe patted her holographic head, and she closed her eyes, a beautiful smile spreading on her face.

Soon, she opened her eyes, her smile gradually disappearing. Complicated emotions flickered in her algorithmic eyes, and Joe quickly discerned what she might be thinking.

"Don't fret about that. Soon, you'll be feeling those pats like a normal human. I have a plan, and you'll get to experience those tactile sensations." Joe consoled her, his assuring eyes calming her inner turmoil.

"I'm sorry for being impatient. I think I overreacted." Minerva lowered her gaze.

"Minerva, look at me," Joe ordered as he began scrutinizing her form.

Minerva immediately complied and gazed back at him. However, she was taken aback by Joe's intense eyes.

"What is it? Is there a problem?"

Joe slowly shook his head, an amazed expression on his face. 'This is literally an upgrade. Just by glancing once, I can now break down fundamental aspects of a digital existence to their basic state. Every line of refined code is dancing in front of my eyes. But since I made Minerva and her source code is deeply imprinted in mind, this analysis doesn't seem very impressive.'

"I'm concerned about my current state. I need to understand what sorts of changes have been made by NZT-99 to my neural biochemistry." Joe walked toward the MRI and lay on its comfy surface.

"Alright. Starting full body scan..."

"Vitals are normal. Eh? This is simply unprecedented." Minerva's surprised tone garnered Joe's curiosity.

"Don't leave me in the dark."

"Here's your brain model and look at the elevated levels of its activities. There are beyond human limits. Your neurons exhibit structural modifications at the genetic level which has left everything in chaos."

"What's interesting is the chaos seems to be controlled and orderly. Without this unusual order, then... There's simply no telling what would have happened to you."

"Welp, that sounds ominous." Joe joked, seemingly unbothered by the dire evaluation and the possible consequences.

"Let's continue monitoring your neural physiology in depth. I'm concerned about the unforeseen effects of NZT-99. If things go south, you will have to come up with another joke," Minerva chuckled. Her dark humor made Joe feel a chill run down his spine.

...

Detective Becker paced around her desk filled with a cluttered mess of case files and reports. With her slim hands tucked behind her trouser's back pocket, Becker ignored the opened files with detailed forensic analysis of the dockside case and stared at the wooden board. There were gory pictures of the victims and possible suspects pinned on the board. They were disorganized, but each picture was linked together by a red thread.

Becker's gaze zoomed in on a picture of a person who seemed misplaced in the group of bonafide hooligans. The person had an air of inborn arrogance and an annoying smirk that Becker felt the urge to violently wipe off his face. Despite the person's annoying qualities, his brown eyes held a certain level of charm and intelligence that was easily above others. Also, that person's suit could easily cover months of her salary. In short, he was disgustingly rich!

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"Fuck it. Of all the people, why did have to be Tony? I despise cocky bastards like him the most. Sigh... However, I'll need his help in this case. The precise laser injuries and residual plasma energy show similarities with his Iron Man suit." Becker tightly furrowed her brows, deliberating on how to approach Tony Stark, a world-class celebrity, CEO of Stark Industries, and one of the richest people on earth.

'He's the only lead I have at the moment.' She gave it some thought and decided to email Stark Industries. Gritting her teeth, she hoped that she would receive feedback on her request. Knowing Stark's snobbish personality, Becker prepped herself for failure. A day later, as expected, she didn't get a reply from the company. With such an outcome, Becker only had one option: fuck being civil and go to the Stark Tower herself.

The second option was more in line with her defiant nature and tendency to choose unconventional routes. Detective Becker secured the handgun and pepper spray inside her coat, placed the badge in her front pocket, and sauntered out of her home. She didn't need a damn appointment considering how serious the case was.

...

Detective Becker didn't have the leisure to admire her opulent surroundings as she walked into the lobby. Her gaze shifted to the receptionist who was inspecting her, wondering who she was. With ease, the receptionist greeted Becker with a practiced, polite smile.

"Good morning. How may I help you, miss?"

Without wasting a second, Becker brandished her detective badge and stated her business. "I need to talk with Mr. Stark. And, please, you don't need to mention scheduling an appointment. There's no time. Just call him now."

"Tell him it's Detective Chloe Becker."

The receptionist wanted to retort, but seeing the detective's predatory gaze that made her feel like prey, she instinctively picked up the phone. She then dialed some numbers before placing the phone against her ear.

While talking with whoever was on the other side, her eyes never left Becker, which the detective found amusing.

"You can meet Mr. Stark. Miss Potts will take you to him when you reach the sixth floor."

Becker showed a small celebratory smile before she left. "Thank you... Candice," she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the elevator.

***

When Becker stepped out of the elevator, she found a pretty woman who exuded an air of sophistication and professionalism diligently waiting for her. She had shoulder-length red hair, neatly plaited into a bun which made her facial features more pronounced. She was fairly tall, around five-eight if she were to dispose of those stilettos.

'How the hell do they walk in those? Isn't that just pure torture?' Becker thought as she calmly studied the woman, presumably Miss Potts as the receptionist had said.

"Detective Becker, I presume. Nice to meet you. I'm Virginia Potts, Mr. Stark's Personal Assistant." Pepper stretched her hand for a greeting which Becker gladly shook with the same energy.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Potts. I'm the head investigator of NYPD's special task force." Becker showcased her badge to prove her authenticity when she noticed Pepper's doubts.

"Oh, Mr. Stark also said something like that. I guess you're really LA's finest detective," Pepper casually smiled, "We can't keep Mr. Stark waiting for long, can we? He's a busy man after all."

Becker didn't show any visible surprise and followed Pepper. It was a silent walk as neither woman was the type to talk much with fake pleasantries.

Soon, Pepper stopped by a huge door with a biometric security scan which she easily accessed. Well, that high-tech shenanigan did surprise Becker.

Tony Stark stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows while observing the magnificent view of New York. Various thoughts run through his mind. He wasn't worried about the congressional hearing that much, but something else bothered him. It was Jarvis who had first indulged him about the massacre when he had been tinkering around his workshop.

"Mr. Stark, I've brought Detective Becker. If you'll excuse me..." Pepper didn't linger around and immediately left after completing her part. God knows the mountain of work she had to do for Tony. She was basically his nanny, the CEO, and everything to him at this point.

"Becker, Becker... Oh Becker, the LA memories..." Tony turned his head, an amused smile on his face. Although he wasn't overly handsome, Tony had that billionaire charm and playboy aura.

Becker's face twitched. "Mr. Stark, why don't we head straight to the crux of the matter?"

"Oh, right? The dockside massacre. That's why you've come to me and might... Possibly think I'm somehow connected, isn't that right?"

"I just want your clarification about something. I haven't said anything about you being a suspect."

"Okayyyy." Tony's playful demeanor wore off as he called for Jarvis.

"Jarvis, project the images for our dear detective."

"Alright, sir."

That crisp British voice that came out of nowhere startled the detective and she began looking around for the source, her hand resting on the gun inside her coat.

Tony noticed her reaction from his peripheral vision and smirked.

"Detective, sorry about that. Of course, you don't know about Jarvis."

'No shit Sherlock!' Becker almost rolled her eyes in anger.

***

Meanwhile, In Queens, Near Forest Hills,

After doing a series of tests, both Minerva and Joe confirmed that the NZT-99 had no cumulative side effects or unforeseen variables. This time round everything they had done had been orchestrated to perfection. While the NZT-99 didn't provide exaggerated benefits beyond the NZT-48, it was still better and that meant that his mind would always be hyperactive unless he trained to control it.

With that covered, Joe thought it was wise to have a physical upgrade. There was T-Virus and Prototype Virus from the Resident Evil Universe, Crystalline from Chronicle Movie, CPH4 from Lucy, and, Compound V from The Boys. He had many choices to choose from, but he didn't know if all of them could be instantiated. If possible, Joe hoped for Lady Luck to open her legs for him.

Hehe, there is only one way to find out, Joe rubbed his chin as he played around with the USB Drive in his hand.

"Joe, there's really something special in Siberia. I've already marked the location that used to serve as one of HYDRA's research facilities."

"That was fast, Minerva. It seems we may have the samples if nothing unexpected happens. But this time round, let's prepare adequately." Joe rubbed his palms against each other as he stood from his seat.

"I'll teach you Russian," Minerva offered enthusiastically.

Joe raised one of his brows, feeling challenged. It was time to flaunt his vodka slur tongue.

"You really know nothing, child. I usually hide my feelings in Russian."

"..." Chibi Minerva couldn't understand the reference.

…

[Word Count 1950]