According to Jessica's explanation, her powers originated from tragedy.
A few years ago, her family took a trip to an amusement park. Just a normal vacation. The kind of thing families do.
On the drive home, the vehicle her father was driving collided with a commercial truck. The truck's cargo: radioactive chemical compounds.
Her parents died on impact. Her younger brother too. The whole family gone in seconds.
Jessica survived, barely. She spent months in a coma, her body fighting to recover from massive trauma and unknown chemical exposure.
When she finally woke, she discovered something had changed. She possessed strength far beyond human normal. The chemicals from the accident site had restructured her cells at a fundamental level. Possibly even altered her DNA.
Nolan stood beside the medical bed, listening quietly to her story. His expression remained neutral, giving nothing away.
But when Jessica mentioned the chemicals, mentioned their source, something clicked in his mind.
"Jessica," he interrupted gently. "Do you remember which company owned that truck? The one carrying the chemicals?"
She blinked, thrown by the sudden question. "Of course I remember. It was... Roxxon Industries, I think? And since the driver was ruled primarily at fault, I received a substantial settlement as the sole survivor."
She trailed off, noticing Nolan's changing expression. His brow furrowed deeper with each passing second.
"Uh... boss? Is there a problem?"
Nolan exhaled slowly. He was silent for a moment, organizing his thoughts.
"Jessica, what I'm about to tell you is part of an ongoing investigation. Something I've been working on."
He explained, keeping it concise. His encounter with the Tracksuit Mafia. The discovery of a child's mutilated body in their warehouse. The trail leading to Kingpin, and through him, to something much larger.
He focused on the core issue: the massive number of missing children, and Roxxon Industries' connection to their disappearances.
As he spoke, Jessica's expression shifted from confusion to horror to cold fury.
Her hands gripped the edge of the medical bed. The metal frame groaned, then buckled under her enhanced strength. The sound of twisting steel was sharp and sudden in the quiet room.
Jessica gasped and released her grip, staring at the damage.
"Sorry, boss. I just... lost control for a second."
"Don't apologize." Nolan's voice was flat, emotionless. "This isn't your fault. It's theirs."
He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he continued his analysis.
"Based on available information, I believe Roxxon Industries is developing a compound that artificially induces metahuman abilities. A way to create people like you through chemistry rather than accident."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"They're buying children. Healthy ones, from vulnerable populations. Using them as test subjects to perfect the formula. Why children? Because adults might ask too many questions. Might have legal protections. Might be missed. Street kids, runaways, orphans... nobody misses them until it's too late."
Jessica's face had gone pale.
Nolan pressed on, his voice taking on a darker edge.
"Now imagine what happens if they succeed. Picture a society already chaotic from guns, racial tension, economic inequality. What happens when anyone with money can buy superpowers?"
He gestured expansively, painting the nightmare scenario.
"'Become metahuman for only $100,000!' Don't have the cash? No problem, we offer financing! Can't get a loan? Don't worry, we'll give you powers now and you can pay us back later! After all, with super strength or flight or whatever they're selling, getting money becomes much easier, doesn't it?"
A cold smile touched his lips.
"Of course, that's just my speculation about their business model. I suspect Roxxon's actual goals are far more ambitious. And far worse."
The medical room's atmosphere had grown heavy, oppressive.
Jessica moved to get out of bed, determination written across her features.
Nolan raised a hand, stopping her.
"No. Your training isn't complete. I don't doubt your will or your determination, Jessica. But this is war, not a street fight. You haven't seen what real combat looks like. If I brought you now, you'd be cannon fodder. Worse, you'd be a liability."
The words were harsh. Deliberately so.
"I expect more from you than that."
Jessica flinched slightly, but the cold reality check worked. Her face set with resolve rather than offense.
She straightened in the bed, meeting his eyes directly.
"I'll recover as fast as possible. I'll train harder. I won't let you down."
"Good." Nolan's expression softened fractionally. "There will be plenty of difficult battles ahead. We'll need you for those."
He offered a few more words of encouragement, then turned and left the medical room.
Behind him, Jessica sat alone in the silence.
She raised her hands before her face, studying them. These hands that could bend steel. That had once been normal, ordinary, human.
Her fingers curled slowly. Knuckles cracked.
Then her hands clenched into fists, tight enough that her nails bit into her palms.
She would be ready. Whatever it took.
Nolan made his way toward the equipment room, his mind churning through implications.
He hadn't expected Jessica's powers to trace back to Roxxon Industries. But now that he knew, the picture became clearer. And more disturbing.
Roxxon had been researching artificial metahumans for years. That meant they had resources, connections, political protection. They might rival HYDRA's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D and the government.
The thought didn't frighten him. It just meant more work. More time. More careful planning.
But he'd eliminate them eventually. Completely.
The superpower compound itself interested him. If Roxxon had perfected it, that represented a shortcut to building capable forces. He couldn't use it himself, obviously. But loyal subordinates, enhanced and properly trained, could form the core of a real fighting force.
The question was viability. Could adults use the compound safely? Both Jessica and the Purple Man had gained their powers as children. Was that a requirement? Or just coincidence?
"I hope the Red River Institute infiltration goes smoothly," he muttered to himself, stopping at the equipment room entrance.
He took a breath and walked inside.
Then he proceeded to empty nearly the entire space.
Arms loaded with weapons, ammunition, armor, equipment, he headed back toward the Valkyrie. Better to be over-prepared than caught without options.
He passed David on the way, moving at a brisk pace despite his burden.
"David, how's it going?" he called out.
The automaton's head swiveled to track him. Blue light pulsed in his optical sensors.
"My lord, progress is excellent. I have successfully interfaced with the Valkyrie's machine spirit and analyzed its control systems. Piloting this aircraft should prove manageable."
Nolan smiled, pleased with the good news.
Then David's tone shifted.
"However, there is one small complication we need to address..."
Nolan entered the Valkyrie's cargo bay and set down his armload of equipment. He turned back toward David.
"What complication? Fuel shortage? There's a drum of promethium in storage, we can—"
David shook his metal head slowly.
"Respected Omnissiah..." The automaton's voice carried what might have been embarrassment. "When you manifested this miracle, the location was... suboptimal."
A pause.
"None of the underground passages connected to the base hall were designed with vehicle egress in mind. They're all too narrow, too low, or both."
Another pause.
"Which means, my lord, that we currently have no way to actually fly this aircraft anywhere. We're trapped underground with a perfectly functional transport that cannot transport anything."
Nolan stared at David.
Then at the Valkyrie behind him.
Then back at David.
"You're telling me," he said slowly, "that I've got a flying vehicle. In a basement. With no way to get it out."
"That is an accurate summary, yes."
Nolan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Of course. Of course this was the problem. He'd been so excited about finally getting a transport that he hadn't considered the minor issue of where it would materialize.
"Okay," he said after a moment. "Okay. We can work with this. We just need to... what? Dig a ramp? Demolish part of the building above us? Create an underground hangar with a proper exit?"
"All viable options, my lord. Though each presents its own challenges in terms of structural integrity, secrecy, and time investment."
Nolan opened his eyes and looked at the Valkyrie again. Nineteen meters of Imperial engineering. Sitting uselessly in his basement like the world's most expensive lawn ornament.
Despite everything, he started to laugh.
It was absurd. Completely, utterly absurd.
He'd survived Necrons, daemons, and T'au. He'd killed Abomination with a Necron weapon. He was planning to take down a multi-billion-dollar corporation engaged in human experimentation.
And he was stymied by basic architecture.
"Alright, David," he said once he'd gotten his laughter under control. "Let's figure out how to get my giant metal bird out of this cage. We've got an orphanage to infiltrate and a conspiracy to demolish."
"As you command, my lord. I shall begin structural analysis immediately."
Nolan shook his head, still smiling despite the setback.
Nothing was ever simple. But at least it was never boring.