Inside the cramped, musty confines of the old house, the air hung thick with the smell of dust and something metallic, coppery.
Nolan maintained a wide, toothy smile, the expression sitting unnervingly on his transformed features. He had a brief, almost disarmingly friendly chat with Connors, who was slowly, visibly regaining his composure.
The biologist's breathing, which had been ragged and shallow, began to even out. His hands, previously clenched into white-knuckled fists, slowly uncurled. Finally, cornered by the young man's strange mix of casualness and raw power, and seeing no other viable option, Connors agreed to go with Nolan.
His agreement was a quiet, defeated nod. Soon after, Nolan moved to the rusted-out bathroom sink. He quickly washed the spatters of green blood from his arms and face, the water running in a sickly pale-green stream down the drain.
He dried himself on a stiff towel and put his sunglasses back on, concealing his cyan wolf eyes.
Connors, the ex-biology teacher, still looked profoundly hesitant. His brow was a mass of deep furrows as they walked out of the rented house, its peeling paint and sagging porch seeming to reflect his own dilapidated state.
They came to a small scooter parked against the curb. With a reluctant, whining sputter, the sound of the motorcycle engine finally caught, idling unevenly. Connors, looking out of place in his simple sportswear, settled himself on the narrow back seat.
As the scooter vibrated beneath them, he suddenly remembered something. He raised his hand, his fingers hesitating before he patted Nolan's heavy, muscular shoulder.
He asked cautiously, his voice barely audible over the engine's puttering. "Uh... this might sound odd, but why do I feel that you look familiar? Have we met somewhere before?"
Hearing the question from behind him, Nolan smiled, though he kept his gaze fixed forward. "Connors. You were my teacher." His voice was low, carrying a strange resonance. "Do you still remember the student who failed the biology exam last semester?"
After Nolan finished speaking, the small admission hung in the air. Connors's eyes widened instantly, his entire body stiffening on the seat.
He asked in a low, shocked voice, "Nolan? Are you Nolan?" Then, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision, Connors took several deep, successive breaths. The air hitched his throat.
He spoke anxiously, leaning close so his mouth was right next to Nolan's ear. "Nolan, you... how did you become like this? Have you also participated in human experiments? Do you know what this means? This is not just irresponsible for your life..."
Nolan interrupted Connors's lecture without looking back. His face, hidden behind the sunglasses, was expressionless, his voice flat. He guided the straining scooter through the dilapidated streets, maneuvering around potholes and debris.
"This matter is very complicated," Nolan said casually, raising his voice over the wind. "This is not the place to talk. Let's talk about it later."
Hearing Nolan's sharp, dismissive reply, Connors let out a long sigh and closed his mouth. He gradually suppressed his restless, teacherly emotions, slumping slightly on the seat.
However, this sudden, shocking change in Nolan seemed to have inadvertently made Connors lower his guard.
Even the bone-deep hesitation in his expression faded, replaced by a look of weary confusion.
Twenty minutes later, the scooter had carried them far from the main city bustle. Nolan, still riding the bike, took Connors away from the noisy, crowded areas.
After crossing countless streets, each more cracked and forgotten than the last, he slowly guided the scooter toward the dark, gaping entrance of an underground passage. Nolan parked the scooter just inside the mouth of the tunnel, the sudden silence echoing as he cut the engine.
He raised his hand, gesturing with a simple flick of his fingers for Connors to follow him. After swinging his leg off the motorcycle, Connors looked around at the damp, concrete walls and the oppressive darkness, hesitating slightly. He glanced back at the sliver of gray daylight they were leaving behind. Finally, with another resigned sigh, he chose to follow.
As the two continued deeper, the meager light from the entrance vanished. The only illumination came from widely spaced, dim emergency lights overhead, casting long, unsettling shadows.
Some scattered building materials began to appear in the poorly lit passage. Piles of rebar, bags of hardened cement, and large, plastic-wrapped palettes lined the walls.
At the same time, Connors, who had been silent, looked at Nolan's broad, forbidding back and said softly, his voice echoing slightly in the tunnel. "Nolan, I know that the appearance of Tony Stark has made countless young people obsessed with the identity of a superhero."
His tone was earnest, the concerned teacher resurfacing. "However, the rules of this world are far from being as simple and easy as heroes fighting monsters..."
However, Nolan suddenly stopped, his body going rigid. He turned, and in the dim light, Connors could see his cyan wolf eyes glowing faintly from behind the sunglasses. He stared at Mr. Connors, who had spoken so earnestly.
He opened his mouth, revealing the clear, sharp line of his fangs. "Don't be stupid, teacher." His voice was a low growl. "We are not superheroes. Even in the childish stories that fool children, we are still the villains."
The next moment, Nolan, blinking his cyan wolf eyes, tilted his head and turned slightly sideways. His keen hearing seemed to sense something from the darkness ahead. "Huh? What a coincidence." His voice shifted, losing its edge and taking on a note of dark amusement. "Teacher, come and meet your future partner."
As he spoke, a new sound joined their footsteps. A heavy, measured, clang... clang... clang... Deep in the dimly lit underground passage, a figure emerged from the shadows. A two-meter-tall metal man slowly walked out, carrying a large pile of steel building materials as if it weighed nothing.
Blue light flashed rhythmically in its deep eye sockets. Its entire body, all sharp angles and polished plates, constantly reflected a faint, cold glow from the sparse emergency lighting.
"This, this is..." Connors stared at the Man of Iron's metal body, his own eyes wide and his face a mask of profound shock. For a moment, he couldn't even speak, his mouth hanging open as he gasped for air.
Nolan narrowed his cyan wolf eyes and grinned. He raised his hand, pointing casually at the approaching automaton. "Introducing, a real mechanical being. David, my construction expert and base steward."
David reached them, threw down the pile of building materials with a deafening crash that echoed down the tunnel, and slowly stepped forward. It first bowed slightly to Nolan, a gesture of mechanical deference. Then it raised its metallic hand and said hello to the shocked Connors, its voice a perfect, synthesized monotone.
"Hello, strange human being."
Connors, gradually coming to his senses, shook his head as if to clear it. He stumbled a step back and started to speak, but only a choked "I... what..." came out. Smiling, Nolan stepped forward.
He raised his hand, a heavy, solid weight, and pressed it onto Connors's shoulder. "Let's go, teacher. You're going to like this place." Nolan nodded to David. Connors, still in a complete trance, allowed himself to be guided deeper into the underground passage, his gaze locked on the metal man until they passed it.
Soon after, they passed through a reinforced steel door and entered the brightly lit base hall. The transition was jarring, from dim, damp concrete to a vast, open space humming with power and lit by clean, white lights. Connors's eyes ached from the sudden brightness.
Having just learned about the huge base hidden under Manhattan, Connors seemed to suffer another powerful mental impact. He allowed Nolan to lead him to a simple, metal round table. He sat down heavily, his expression dejected, his mind reeling. After a long silence, filled only by the distant hum of ventilation and servers, Connors raised his head.
His expression was bitter. He looked at Nolan, who had remained standing. "I thought that being completely transformed into a lizard because of an experiment accident was shocking enough." His voice was hoarse. "I didn't expect that you, Nolan, were much, much stronger than me."
"Teacher, is this really something worth celebrating?" Nolan's expression was gentle, a strange contrast to his fangs and glowing eyes. He handed Connors a glass filled with a dark, foaming liquid. Warhammer ale. Connors took the glass without hesitation, his hand trembling slightly, and poured the contents into his mouth, gulping it down. He felt the mellow alcohol burn as it corroded his esophagus.
A flush crept up his neck, and his face turned red. Connors opened his bloodshot eyes. He stared at Nolan and asked, his voice raw. "I will never leave this place in the future, right?"
However, Nolan, narrowing his cyan wolf eyes, reached up and took off his baseball cap. He revealed the mottled, gray hair on his head. He shook his head and said softly, "Teacher... you are completely free. You will get the best experimental equipment, and you can continue your experiments." He paused, letting the words sink in. "As long as you occasionally help research something for me, and promise not to do anything that harms the entire team or humanity... you can even leave the base at will and continue your life."
"Is it that simple?" Connors frowned slightly, a disbelieving, hesitant look on his face. A lock of his golden hair fell onto his forehead.
"It's that simple." Nolan's voice was smooth, but his eyes hardened. "However, teacher, let's be honest. You have just seen my power, and the Man of Iron, David." Nolan leaned forward, his smile returning, but it held no warmth. "If you think you can do whatever you want just by transforming into a lizard, then I welcome you to make a bolder attempt." He grinned, and his exposed fangs reflected a faint, cold light from the base's ceiling.
Facing Nolan's undisguised threat, Connors shook his head slightly. The bitter smile returned to his lips. "I just want to recover as a real human being now," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "If possible, improving the limb regeneration potion is also one of my life's long-cherished wishes." He looked down at his single hand, resting on the table.
"But after being expelled from the school and having my reputation ruined, I no longer have the ability to start research again." He looked back up, meeting Nolan's gaze.
"So, if everything you said is true, then I am completely willing to join your team. And it is not because of your threat."
"Nolan, I hope you can understand. This is a scientist's ideal, and also a disabled person's crazy obsession."
Before his voice finished, Connors, his brow finally relaxing for the first time, slowly pushed his chair back and stood up. He stretched out his only remaining palm to the smiling Nolan, his expression one of grim seriousness. A large, powerful palm with sharp, inhuman fingertips tightly grasped the other's hand. "Teacher, happy cooperation."
"Happy cooperation."