Chapter Thirty-Four: Upgrading the Angel Gene

Michael gazed at Test Subject No. 3, unable to suppress another question that arose in his mind.
"Keisha, do you think he can retract those wings?"
Keisha fell silent.
If the wings couldn't be retracted, then what difference was there between him and a birdman?
Keisha explained, "Strictly speaking, an angel's wings are a manifestation of energy. While they aid in flight, they also serve as organs for storing energy."
Michael looked at the test subject with exasperation. So in the end, I'd just made a birdman, right?
He took a sample from one of the wings and began a new line of research.
It could be confirmed that some of the feathers were indeed pure energy, but the wings themselves were physically real.
Even if the feathers could retract, the large wings themselves could not.
And without feathers, the bare wings looked even more unsightly.
Michael tried to reason with Keisha, "Let's just remove the angel gene. It's really just the birdman gene—he only looks like an angel, but in reality, it's not an angel gene at all."
Keisha was silent again.
After all, angels always had wings.
Seeing that Keisha remained unmoved, Michael continued to persuade her, "Let's not be greedy. If we ever find the Heaven that Odin exiled, we can look for angels inside, capture them, and extract their genetic serum."
Keisha gave no response.
After a while, Keisha finally replied,
"How did Apocalypse turn the birdman's wings into metal?"
Michael was stunned.
It was a matter of mutant classification—Apocalypse had raised his mutant level.
Mutants are divided into six classes: Alpha, Beta, Delta, Epsilon, Gamma, and Omega.
The first five represent levels one through five, ranging from controllably powerful, to uncontrollably powerful, to slightly weaker but controllable, to weak but with human appearance, and finally, those not strong and with obvious physical defects.
Omega represents mutants of extreme danger and limitless potential.
Warren's wings did not grant him overwhelming power and even caused some degree of physical mutation, so he would be ranked in the lowest class—Gamma-level mutant.
After Apocalypse's enhancement, Warren should be at Delta level—not too weak, but far from truly powerful.
Keisha said, "Rather than calling it an upgrade in class, it's more accurate to say Apocalypse injected his own dark energy into the birdman's body, causing the X-gene to mutate again."
Michael added, "Because Apocalypse flooded him with dark energy, there was significant mutation during Warren's upgrade, turning his wings metallic. But that metal is a form of energy and can regenerate."
Simply put, what was needed now was to raise the level of the X-gene.
Michael once again injected the anti-gene serum, turning Subject No. 3 back into an ordinary human.
Next, he injected Warren's X-gene serum alone into Subject No. 3, causing him to grow wings again.

This time, he increased the output of dark energy. Since Warren's X-gene mainly enabled the growth of wings, most of the dark energy was absorbed by the wings.
Thus, Michael obtained a secondary mutated X-gene serum.
Experiments showed that the new wings were largely energy-based, and the regeneration rate of feathers was greatly improved.
After extracting the evolved X-gene serum, Michael injected the anti-gene serum again, returning Subject No. 3 to an ordinary state.
Through repeated experiments, Michael finally obtained a pair of milky white, purely energy-based wings.
The X-gene had now reached Alpha-level, on par with characters like Storm in the movies.
The test subject could now generate powerful winds and sharp air blades with a mere flap of his wings, leaving the laboratory in chaos.
Originally, Warren only possessed super endurance, high-altitude adaptation, and super vision, but the upgraded angel gene now included super strength and super speed.
The feathers could also be fired as projectiles, easily slicing through steel.
The specific flight speed and altitude couldn't be tested.
But now, his gene could no longer be called a birdman gene—calling it an angel gene was more than fair.
With all the experiments validated, Michael could finally begin his own treatment.
After destroying all the clones, Michael injected himself with the antibody agent.
He needed to cultivate special antibodies within his own body, then inject three types of gene serums.
Finally, he could recover.
Michael lay back on the chair, allowing himself to fully relax.
He glanced at several other vials of serum on the table.
These serums were refined from the blood of Subject No. 1 and served only one purpose: to cure Michael's blood disease.
However, after being cured, Michael would no longer be compatible with the vampire bat gene, making any future serum fusion much more dangerous.
Yet for other patients, this was the only effective treatment.
But there was still one more person—
The individual who had sent him the vampire bat sample.
Who was this person, really?
Until he was certain of everything, he decided not to send anything back.
As a fellow patient, Michael could understand their desperation, but he had to consider his own safety as well.
...
"Now, Mr. Stark will give a brief statement. He will not be answering any questions. Thank you."
Tony stepped up to the podium, a little nervous. "It's been a while since I've seen everyone. I'll just read from the statement."
Tony's honesty drew warm laughter from the assembled reporters.

"Some people suspect I was involved in last night's fight on the street and on the rooftop..."
A female reporter interrupted directly, "Excuse me, Mr. Stark, do you really expect us to believe it was a private bodyguard of yours who just happened to appear in armor, when in fact—"
Tony nervously cut her off.
"I know it sounds a little far-fetched, but questioning the official story is one thing, while making up wild stories or insinuating that I'm a superhero is another."
"I'm not saying you're a superhero,"
The reporter smiled.
Tony looked at her, crestfallen. "You're not? Well, that's good—because that really would be absurd."
But inside, he was fuming: Damn it, I risked my life last night to defeat the bad guys, stopped Stark weapons from being trafficked, crushed Obadiah's war dreams, saved countless innocent lives, and you never once thought I might be a superhero?
"Clearly, I'm not cut out to be a superhero. I have plenty of character flaws, I've made many mistakes—most of which you already know..."
Tony choked up, his words becoming muddled.
As Tony drifted further and further from the script, nearly confessing everything, Rhodey couldn't help but remind him,
"Stick to the script."
"Right, right."
Tony agreed, but his eyes were full of bitter tears.
I've changed, really—I’m not just playboy Tony anymore. I’m a hero now.
But why do I feel so wronged?
He picked up the script and continued, "The truth is..."
He couldn't accept it.
He had saved the world, yet here he was, forced to deny it.
Tony put down the script, looked out at the reporters, and his gaze grew firm.
"I am Iron Man."
A collective gasp swept the room. Instantly, the place erupted. Everyone stood up, cameras flashing.
Elsewhere, in an office, a bald man with an egg-shaped head threw whatever he was holding across the room and cursed,
"Motherf—!"