Marvel: A.T.L.A.S. - Ghost Protocol

Titan Facility - July 1987

The vault's blast doors opened on a scene of devastation. Where geometric impossibilities had twisted space, now only smooth ice remained. The fragment was gone—not destroyed, but unmade. As if it had never been.

Through the aftermath's silence, sensors registered a single heartbeat. Impossibly slow, but steady.

Caspian lay half-encased in ice, blood frozen in elegant patterns across his tactical gear. The Emperor Eye remained active, tracking his own vital signs with clinical detachment: core temperature thirty degrees below survivable limits, tissue damage extensive, cellular integrity compromised.

But alive.

"Multiple teams, full containment gear," Carrie's voice cut through command channels. "Priority One medical response. Move."

The recovery operation proceeded with professional precision. No one remarked on the Director's presence in the hot zone, on the way her hand briefly touched her son's frozen face as they transferred him to emergency medical.

"Global temperature patterns normalizing," Sterns reported from his station. "The network is... dissolving. All compromised sites showing rapid decomposition of ice formations."

"Howard's condition has stabilized," Walter added. "Hospital contamination receding. No further casualties."

In the medical bay, doctors worked with grim efficiency. Caspian's enhanced biology fought the damage, but the cold had gone deep. Changed things on a cellular level.

"Remarkable," Dr. Sterns murmured, studying readings. "His tissues... they're not just healing. They're adapting. Learning from what happened."

"Prognosis?" Carrie's question carried weight.

"He'll survive. But there are changes. The exposure to the fragment, at that level of contact..." Sterns adjusted his instruments. "We're seeing alterations in cellular structure. Nothing like the infection pattern, but... he's different now."

Through the haze of medical sedation, Caspian's Emperor Eye continued its analysis. New patterns in his blood. New capabilities growing from the frost's touch. Not corruption—evolution.

Howard's voice came through secured channels, stronger now: "Arthur's notes mentioned this possibility. Why it had to be Valemont blood. Something in the genetics... it doesn't just resist the change. It adapts to it. Uses it."

"The fragment recognized him," Carrie said quietly. "Spoke to him."

"Yes." Howard's laugh held no humor. "It would have. Same way it spoke to Arthur, all those years ago. Offered him the same choice."

"Sir." Walter's interruption was careful. "Initial after-action reports are ready. The oversight committee will want—"

"The oversight committee," Carrie cut him off, "will receive a classified brief citing a contained biological weapons test. Nothing more."

The truth would stay buried. Like the fragment. Like so many of A.T.L.A.S.'s darker secrets.

Hours passed. Cities warmed. The dead were counted, their deaths attributed to a harsh winter storm. Stories would be written, questions asked, theories proposed. None would come close to the truth.

In the medical bay, Caspian opened his eyes. The Emperor Eye activated automatically, analyzing his surroundings. Cataloging changes in his own biology.

"The fragments?" His voice was hoarse but controlled.

"Neutralized." Carrie stood from her chair beside his bed. "All sites contained. Howard is stable."

"Novak's people?"

"Running." Her smile was cold. "But not far enough."

Caspian nodded slightly, feeling the new patterns in his blood. The way frost formed and melted with each breath. Not corruption. Not change. Evolution.

"The doctors want to study the alterations," Carrie said quietly. "Understand what the exposure did."

"No." His voice was firm. "Some things should stay buried."

Through the medical bay's windows, sunrise painted Titan's walls gold. The world was warming again. But somewhere in the ice, ancient things still slept. Still waited.

And now, something in his blood remembered them.