Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

barely have enough. He activated Hyper and doubled his agility stat, then hit Dash.

Even with the increase in speed, Mengele’s arm came in contact with Gus’ hand as he blocked Gus’ attack. There was not a lot of force behind this thrust though. As soon as they touched, Gus activated Meld and chose to match whatever substance Mengele’s skin had become.

From the point of contact, inky blackness spread up Gus’ arm to the shoulder. His arm immediately felt heavy, as if it were made of solid stone. Biting down, he punctured the two gels he had stored in his mouth, boosting his strength by ten points. Another quick jab and he caught Mengele in his eye with his fingertips, and they sunk into the golden orb.

Mengele caught Gus by the neck, raising him off the ground, just as it converted into stone as well. Holding Gus there two feet off the ground, he dabbed at his ruined eye, tasting the gold material there on a fingertip.

“That… was a mistake.” Mengele went to the door, thrusting Gus into it, ripping it from the hinges. He stepped out into the hallway, still carrying Gus aloft. The transformation had stolen over Gus’ whole body now. Unfortunately, while changed he still was using the last bits of his MP. He didn’t need to breathe either, which was a plus as he was sure Mengele would have choked him out in no time. Gus’ hands made scraping noises as they clawed against the arm holding it, unable to budge even a finger.

“It has been some time since someone has been able to harm me, even a little. But this ends now.” Gus watched in horror as the golden splatter that was the remains of Mengele’s eye began to pill up like mercury and then flow back to the socket. In less than a minute, the eye was whole again.

“You are surprised that I have healing abilities? I probably know more about human, super, and hybrid biology than the world’s top ten experts’ collective experience, knowledge, and skill. I am willing to go further than my colleagues and as a result, my research is in a totally different league. You know the adage cracking a few eggs and all, yes? Well, you will get a front row seat to my methods. And I will make a special effort to repay you in kind.”

Two automatic doors slid open as Mengele neared them, revealing a large operating suite. The area was huge, and had large trays of instruments hermetically sealed in some kind of table. Violet light shined down, bathing the instruments in an eerie glow. They neared a metal wall and Mengele held Gus there, waiting.

The reason became apparent when Gus ran out of MP and reverted back to normal. While he did not tighten his grip on Gus, his own body weight forced him to hold on tightly to prevent the pressure on his jaw. If it was not broken from that backhand, it was definitely fractured. Mengele punched some buttons on the wall, and a panel slid back, revealing crossed golden weapons, a sickle-like one and the other with what looked like a whip or cat-of-nine-tails.

Mengele reverently removed the sickle and turned it in his hands, rotating the tip of the curved blade scant millimeters from Gus’ eyes. With lightning quick movements, he hooked Gus’ outfit with the top of his scepter and sliced downward. With four deft strokes, he repeated the process on all of his limbs, leaving Gus naked and exposed. Kicking the remnants off to the corner, Mengele pressed Gus against a wall, securing him there as restraints grasped his arms, legs and chest.

Initially, Gus struggled against the bonds but found them as unyielding as Mengele’s grip. The wall rotated, forming an operating table that hovered in the air. Cold metal was chill against his back and legs, and Mengele fastened a band around Gus’ forehead, locking him down onto the slab.

Gus heard the hiss of the panel closing, unable to see what was happening around him. When Mengele reappeared, the sickle-thing was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

“One thing that has always amused me is how they say how interrogation and torture never work. That the information is not reliable since people will say anything just to get out of pain. That may be true for regs, but for supers there are so many other avenues to explore. Among my other talents is an ability called True Sight. For a researcher, it is invaluable. I imagine that it has saved me decades of chasing after false hypotheses and faulty logic.”

Gus tried to glare but it was difficult to keep the fear out of his eyes. He couldn’t move his head at all! Just the harsh overhead lights and Mengele’s looming dark figure over him. The back of his head began to ache with the tension of the headband pushing him into the hard metal, causing his headache to rise in intensity. He had a feeling these headaches were going to seem like minor irritations compared to what was coming.

“One side effect that I discovered, quite by accident though, was that I could also detect the truth when questioning my subjects. Even truths that they were hiding from themselves! You would be surprised how effectively this cuts through the Rashomon effect. Even supers are notoriously short-sighted, basing entirely too much of reality on feeble interpretations of the data. That’s why everyone is wrong such a large majority of the time. From their limited perspective, they think they have the whole truth. Blind men each feeling a different part of the elephant.”

Mengele took out a scalpel, examining its blade, cocking his head to one side before placing it back on the tray and continuing.

“I will admit it was frustrating at times having such a wide vision and being unable to share that with anyone else. So much explanation, trying to dumb things down so it could be understood. Then being greeted with constant doubt