Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

Six and a half hours later…

Malrick rubbed his temples and stepped back into the eastern lobby of the institute.

Marvin and the others immediately gathered around him.

It was already 7:00 AM, September 29th.

"Brother Malrick, do you need a break?" little Sherry asked gently, holding a small box.

Inside the box were the ashes of Annette Birkin—everyone had helped cremate her just a few hours ago. Mixed in were traces of William Birkin's carbonized remains.

"No. Just a bit frustrated," Malrick said, waving her off.

In the last five hours, he'd fused data from the ancestral virus, the T-virus, and the G-virus to create a new viral strain. With his enhanced cognitive processing running at full tilt, even a short burst of research had produced results that surpassed what William and the others had accomplished in decades.

He named it: S-Virus — a prototype.

The S-Virus boasted exceptional transmission potential and lethality. Airborne, highly durable, and active for up to six hours outside a host, it was a terrifying biological agent.

Initial projections suggested a 90%+ chance of zombification upon infection.

But that wasn't the whole picture. Survivors of the infection would retain full consciousness while gaining superhuman physicality and regeneration.

However, transmission was still less aggressive than airborne diseases like pneumonia. The virus didn't spread through normal breathing or droplets—it required direct contact with blood or bodily fluids, where the virus concentration was highest.

Still, it was dangerous enough.

If people like Spencer or Wesker got wind of it, they'd declare it the next step in human evolution and begin their so-called "global ascension plan."

Even the world consciousness had shown an eerie thrill the moment the S-Virus was synthesized.

But Malrick didn't want it.

What he needed was a 100% safe treatment to enhance human regenerative ability—for Tony Stark, not an apocalypse.

A virus that could turn Tony into a zombie was off the table.

Considering the high mutation potential, he knew the project was far from over.

After this Raccoon City crisis, he'd probably have to head to Europe next. Perhaps fusing it with characteristics from the Plaga parasite or the E-type mold could yield something viable.

But before any of that, he had to return to Marvel's timeline—to assess how much time had passed.

Last time, he'd tried something risky.

He'd taken a single drop of his own blood—blood that had evolved with Kryptonian properties since his powers awakened—and exposed it to the S-Virus prototype.

His blood was no longer purely human; it was a hybrid of Kryptonian and Earth genetics.

It should've been fine.

Instead, the result was catastrophic.

The moment the two samples touched inside the container, his blood absorbed the virus almost instantly—and then began to replicate wildly.

It even tried to break out of containment.

Had it escaped into the air, combining the airborne traits of the virus with the aggressive adaptability of Kryptonian DNA, the result would've been apocalyptic.

The world consciousness immediately flooded him with emotions of fear and despair.

Without hesitation, Malrick vaporized the entire setup with a heat ray.

The glass container disintegrated to ash, leaving him shaken.

He realized he had a long road ahead in researching bloodborne virology—especially when dealing with hybrid alien DNA.

That was why he walked out of the lab rubbing his forehead.

"Bud," Malrick said, turning toward the director, "what's the status on the vaccines and serum?"

He handed a golden vial of the S-Virus prototype to Jarvis. "Lock this up. Everything else related to it has been destroyed."

He'd even incinerated the lab on the way out—the vial in Jarvis' care was the only remaining trace.

Bud responded quickly. "The G-Virus serum trials went smoothly. Right now, any organism infected within five hours can be completely cured."

He handed Malrick a report.

"As for the new T-Virus vaccine and serum, we've produced enough to cover all of Raccoon City."

"With Mr. Jarvis' assistance, we also manufactured over 500 anti-virus bombs loaded with aerosolized serum."

Malrick nodded. "That's more than enough."

"Good. We start the citywide vaccination plan now."

"In a few hours, Raccoon City will be back on its feet."

At that, Marvin and Elliot stood straighter, like soldiers receiving a final order.

"We'll begin deployment right away, Mr. Malrick!" Marvin saluted before leaving with Elliot.

"Take Jarvis with you," Malrick called after them. "He'll assist with deployment."

He then turned his gaze to Ada Wong, who leaned casually against the wall.

"I figured you'd be long gone by now. Aren't you supposed to deliver the G-Virus to your employer?"

After a few hours, Ada had clearly freshened up—showered, changed into a red jacket and black slim-fit pants.

"The former employer," she replied coolly, slipping on a pair of sunglasses. "I think I've found someone better."

She strutted toward him, her steps confident, hips swaying with calculated grace.

"Thinking of a long-term contract, Boss Malrick?" she asked, tilting her chin.

Over the past nine hours, she'd watched him display not only raw power but brilliance—and, above all, integrity.

He was like sunlight.

Ada didn't consider herself sentimental, but she couldn't deny her growing fascination.

"I didn't expect you to be the employment type," Malrick said, amused.

"Are you saying I'm not qualified?" she teased.

"Barely passed," he smirked. "But congrats. You're hired. Just don't forget to call me Boss."

"And the salary?"

"Self-negotiated—if I ever figure out how to make legal income in this world."

"So I'm a freelance employee, huh?" Ada lifted an eyebrow. "Or are you thinking of paying me in... other ways?"

"Sorry," Malrick replied without skipping a beat. "Interns don't get paid."

He was already spoken for—Natasha had his heart.

"C'mon, Sherry. Let's get moving," Malrick said, lifting her into his arms.

Ada followed with a sly smile, expression unreadable.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

The team was prepped to leave.

They took the cable car out of the facility and made the grueling trek back through the sewers.

This time, Malrick carried Sherry on his back, Ada had her arms loosely around his neck, and he was lugging wooden crates filled with antiviral bombs.

Marvin and the others were similarly burdened.

When they arrived at the Raccoon Police Department, the desk sergeant raised an eyebrow—it looked like they'd come back from a Costco run.

The station now housed over a dozen new survivors.

When word spread that the crates were filled with vaccines and anti-virus bombs, the survivors erupted in hope and gratitude.

Even Robert Kendo and his daughter Emma came forward.

Kendo bowed deeply to Malrick, gratitude written across his face.

"Thank you. Truly. We owe you everything."

"Kendo," Malrick replied, placing a hand on Emma's head, "just make sure the bombs get deployed properly."

"Marvin says you're the best gunsmith here—protect your daughter and yourself."

Just then, a small voice spoke up.

"And what about me?"

Sherry tugged on the back of his shirt.

She was clutching the urn with her mother's ashes, her shoulders hunched and eyes uncertain.

Malrick was momentarily stunned.

She reminded him of himself—back when he was only a year old and had just awakened his memories. He'd felt just as lost.

The difference was… he had Tony.

Sherry had no one.

Everyone around her was a stranger in a cold world.

But still, she was brave enough to seek someone to lean on.

Malrick knelt and patted her head.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you."

Sherry's face lit up with a smile.

She hugged the urn tightly, tears and laughter blending together on her cheeks.

---

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