"A gift to you, my friends. Open it."
Henry Dollinger, a client who once had Sam as his assigned paranormal, pulled out a purple vial from the box. "What is this?"
"The future of man," said Steele. "Drink from those vials, and then you shall have powers as well."
Several held up the vials, but none drank.
Dollinger sniffed it. "I've heard of this stuff. The news says it's given some people powers. But they also say it's killed others."
"The drug on the street is unrefined." Steele lifted a vial and gazed into it. "People have not been using it as intended." A bit of a spin, but all's fair in war. "What you have before you is a guarantee."
"And what do you want from us in return?" asked Gregor.
"Your support and your resources. Our governments, our politicians, have carved out a nice little hole for themselves, in which they spend their wealth in excess, and from which they shun others, letting them rot in the dirt." Steele remembered sitting in the mud, rain pouring over him, because the government had taken his house and his car—before he had powers, when he had been weak.
"This substance—" He held up the drug. "—gives everyone a chance at success."
Gregor did not look convinced. "If this substance is for everyone, how does it help us?"
"The paranormals will need leaders, guardians."
Dollinger continued to stare at his vial. "Steele, I don't know about this."
"I do." Gregor put the vial back in its box and closed it. "It's insane. You want to give a weapon to the poor people of this world. Understand, I have nothing against them. Those of you who know me, know that I have struggled to rise from a low place myself. I remember the good people that helped me, but I also remember the scum, those who threw away their lives and abused those of others. Leave them in the dirt where they belong." He spit through his lips to emphasize his point.
Steele ground his teeth. He'd feared they wouldn't understand. "You are just like the corrupt men of which I speak, Gregor. You've grown cozy in your position, fearful of change."
The old Russian shrugged. "Change is not always good."
Dollinger put his vial down as well. "Revealing paranormals may not be wise. People will rise up, like you said, and it won't end well. I mean, you're talking about starting a war."
"With no army," added Gregor.
Steele smiled at that. He pushed a button on his table, and turned in his chair. The wall behind him opened up, revealing a balcony, showing one side of the facility. He stood and walked toward it.
The others, out of curiosity, followed. Their eyes widened in shock as they witnessed what lay below.
"I think things will end well, indeed." Steele gestured to his army. "Meet my Grunts. I have hundreds of them, all genetically engineered and at my command. They are unstoppable."
At their head stood Grunt-1 dressed in red armor. Steele telepathically commanded them to cheer, and they immediately began a low war chant.
Gregor once again disrespected him by spitting at his work. "You are mad. These are beasts. I will not be a part of this."
Steele sighed and turned to face the businessmen, and the camera. "Do all of you agree with Gregor?"
Too scared to speak, to man-up to what was right, they backed away.
Steele shrugged. "Then perhaps I am mad."
He injected the serum into his arm and collapsed to his knees, a high filling him, his muscles straining, his veins pulsing. Pain filled his body, cut at him like tiny razors lined with poison. His muscles grew, stretching his skin, ripping parts of his suit as he tore his way into a new body—a bigger, stronger, more powerful body. Bigger even than Beleth. Energy flowed into him, easing the pain, fading it into nothing. A small price for such a great reward.
Silence filled the room and the Russian gasped. "What have you done to yourself?"
Steele looked at his hands, which were redder than usual, pulsing with blood and energy. "Evolved."
He lifted his hand and, with invisible threads of power, threw Gregor across the room and pinned him to the wall. The world would be watching, and would now see true power.
Everyone froze as Steele walked forward, getting used to his new body. With a mere thought, he floated off the ground and hovered forward, looking at each of the men. "You will join me." He looked at the camera. "You will all join me!"
Then he roared, holding his hands out, and pushed everyone at once against a wall, as if they were no more than cotton balls. He twisted his finger and focused, and ice flooded their bloodstream, freezing them from the inside out, until they were encased in ice. The pain drove them mad. They screamed and begged for release, but with another flick he froze their mouths shut.