"Just relax," a woman's voice said.

Easy for her to say, Jeremy thought. It was a safe bet that none of the lab-coated figures in the lab would be receiving the experimental treatment. He’d signed up for the procedure as soon as the announcement appeared in Crey’s employee newsletter. After all, who wouldn’t want to trade the life of a chef - albeit a damn good one - for that of a superhero? His initial excitment had faded, however, replaced with growing nervousness.

After several rounds of physical and psychological exams, here he was, minutes away from the final step. Dr. Jenks had explained the general idea – something about a virus that would modify his genes along those sections identified in a number of studies as relating to metahuman abilities, but most of it had gone over his head. He had a decent grasp of chemistry as a chef, but everything the doc had said after DNA might as well have been in ancient Greek.

In addition, he hadn’t expected the experiment to be a spectator sport. The room seemed filled with men and women in green sterile masks, at least five for himself and each of the other three men who had been accepted for the trial. The sheer number of observers added to the anxiety that had been building over the last few days, even though all the scientists to whom he’d spoken had assured him that the procedure was safe.

The metal table he'd been strapped to over an hour ago had warmed some against his back, but the air conditioning continued to blow a soft draft across his bare chest, raising a line of goosebumps amongst the sensors stuck to his skin. A shiver ran down his spine, not entirely due to the cold, as the nurse who’d told him to relax took hold of his arm.

The smells of alcohol and disinfectant grew stronger as the closest doctor rubbed some viscous orange liquid over the inside of his left elbow with a rough sterile pad. She tapped his arm to bring up a vein, and Jeremy looked away as she tied a thin strip of tubing around his upper arm. The other volunteers were all watching him, none yet subject to such ministrations.

"Isn't this the point you tell me it won't hurt a bit?" He tried to smile, wanting to display confidence for the cameras recording the experiment. He knew his partner, Conner, waited near the recovery room elsewhere in the hospital with the other volunteers' wives, all watching the video and waiting.

"Well, I could tell you that," a man's voice this time, approaching from behind. "But it would probably be a lie." The new doctor carried a syringe the size of a good ballpark bratwurst and Jeremy felt his eyes widen as he took in the gauge of the needle.

"We need to make sure the full volume of serum is delivered as quickly as possible." This doctor seemed to be speaking more to the camera and other scientists than to the patients, all of whom exchanged nervous glances. "A slow delivery could cause genetic instabilities in some sections of the subjects' DNA without sufficient amounts of the buffering agent.

"The subjects are secured. Are all of the monitors online?"

A chorus of affirmations seemed to satisfy his question so the lead doctor nodded. "Very well. I'll start with subject alpha, then beta in five minutes, gamma in thirty, and delta in an hour."

Jeremy sucked in a breath. For the first time, he read the small label on the monitor beeping softly by his side – 'Alpha'. No wonder the others hadn't been prepped yet.

"Let's make some history." The man's mask crinkled in such a way to suggest a broad smile as he stabbed the needle into Jeremy's raised vein.

He closed his eyes, but could feel the rush of cold liquid as it plunged into his bloodstream. The chill seemed to spread rapidly throughout his body and he shivered.

"How do you feel?"

Jeremy snapped his eyes open to find himself staring up into a older woman's kind face. He jerked his head around, but he was no longer in the experiment room. It looked like a hospital, and he realized he was lying in a bed, no longer strapped to the metal table.

"Erk," he croaked. His throat was incredibly dry, unable to form words to respond. He knew the answer to the woman – a nurse, given the peach-colored scrubs – he felt strange. He felt like he'd been sleeping for a week but still remained exhausted. Most of all, he felt thirsty.

He tried to raise a hand out from under the white sheet but his movements were sluggish, almost like he was drunk.

The nurse smiled. "Thirsty?"

He nodded his head as much as his tired muscles would allow, and the woman made a note on the clipboard in her lap. "Yes, all of the subjects have been." She picked up a cup from somewhere behind his field of vision and stuck a straw in it.

"Can you sit up a bit?"

Jeremy took in a deep breath and forced himself to lean forward. He managed to keep his head up long enough to take a few sips of water. A sigh escaped him as he fell back onto the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes. Nothing pained him, but his strength seemed totally sapped.

"Now. How do you feel?"

"Tired," Jeremy replied, his voice scratchy in his ears. The disorientation had begun to fade and he stretched his arms and legs under the sheet.

The nurse casually lifted the edge of the covering and peered at his hands as he worked his fingers. The breeze this allowed in made Jeremy realize he had nothing on, and he felt his cheeks flush with heat. Bad enough a woman was seeing him naked without her looking like his grandmother.

"Em," he started, but the nurse dropped the sheet again and made another note on her clipboard.

"Full motor control, good," she murmered. "Melatonin alteration seems total."

"Melatonin what?"

The nurse didn't answer, but held out the water again. "Could you take hold of this, please?"

Jeremy reached out from under the sheet and grabbed the cup, but froze as he saw his arm. He'd taken a vacation just before the experiment had begun, reasoning that with recovery times it might be awhile before the chance came again. The tan he'd gotten on the beach in Key West with Conner was gone, however. Instead, his skin was a deep crimson with softly pulsing yellow veins.

The plastic cup fell from his suddenly numb fingers and clattered to the floor, splashing water across the vinyl tiles. "What…?"

Another scratch of the nurse's pen on the clipboard. "Hm, I suppose I can attribute that to surprise rather than loss of coordination." Her tone was flat, disinterested as she bent over to pick up the cup once more. "Please try again?"

His fingers closed around the cup without really thinking about it. His eyes remained focused on the bulbous yellow blood vessel running the length of his arm. It swelled obscenely as his forearm muscles clenched, crushing the paper cup into a wad. "My gods, what have you done to me?"

The nurse arched an eyebrow. "Surely you knew there would be side effects from the procedure?" She clucked and took the crumpled cup from his hand.

Jeremy looked down at the shape of himself under the sheet with mounting horror and ripped off the covering. His entire body had turned the same deep red color, and the yellow veins criss-crossed all of his muscles. What little hair had been left on his chest after they'd shaved it to attach the sensors was gone, as was that on his legs and arms.

The sensors remained, however, and the machines next to him began beeping more rapidly in response to his activity.

The nurse sighed. "Now now, Mister," she glanced down quickly, "Stein. There's no need to panic." Her voice was calm and soothing, but Jeremy continued to suck in deep breaths of air. "You're in perfect health, according to all of our tests."

"I'm a freak!" Jeremy turned to look at her, and felt a mixture of sorrow and exultation when she flinched away from his gaze, confirming his statement even as she tried to placate him.

"Mr. Stein, please calm down or I'll have to give you a sedative." The woman turned away from him reaching for a tray of hypodermics.

"Oh, hell no. You're not injecting me with anything else." The monitor to his left was beeping even faster now, all seven graphing tracks recording rapid shifts in his metabolism.

"It's for your own good, Mr. Stein," she said as she took the cap off of a slim needle. "You need time to acclimatize to the changes, I think…"

Jeremy lifted a hand to grab her arm, but before he made contact a bright light exploded in the room. He jerked backwards in surprise, spots dancing in his eyes.

The nurse's screamed. She dropped the needle and clutched at her face as white sparkles wrapped around her head.

Jeremy skittered backwards, ripping the sensors off his chest and staring at the woman in horror. He hadn't meant to hurt her, just to stop her, but it seemed the experiment to give him superhuman powers had been at least a partial success. The machines buzzed with a variety of alarms as their displayed graphs flatlined from lack of input. That, combined with the nurse's screams, was sure to bring more people soon. People who would want to drug him again, keep him here, make sure he wasn't dangerous.

The thought almost made him laugh as he looked around frantically for something to cover his naked, disfigured body. No handy closets seemed available, however, so he grabbed the bedsheet for use as a makeshift toga before running into the hallway.

Several men in suits stood just outside the door, looking threatening. Jeremy recognized them immediately as Crey Security goons, and knew they weren't going to let him leave. Not without a fight.

"Settle down, sir," one of them started, his hands held out in plain view. Three of the others weren't so friendly, their hands resting on hips and holding their jackets open to reveal the holsters within.

Jeremy looked from one to the next, knowing he was on the verge of all-out panic. All of his thoughts had turned to escape – running, hiding, anything to get away from here. A surge of power like the one he'd felt when the flash had gone off moments before welled up within him, only this time the effect on his vision was more like being doused with a wave of water.

When the ripples passed, it seemed nothing had changed. The security guards, however, were looking around in confusion.

"Where'd he go?" The one who'd spoken before turned around completely and pulled a radio off his belt. "Subject Alpha has eluded us, sir. I suggest you spin up the dimensional interference generator – it looks like he can teleport."

Jeremy cocked his head to the side and waved a hand in front of one of the other confused looking guards. It had to be some sort of invisibility. He supposed that would tie in with blinding flash he'd used on the nurse, a similar manipulation of light waves. The man gave no response to the wave, simply continuing to look around in jerky movements.

Slowly, Jeremy backed away from the guards, careful not to bump into any of them. He padded down the hallway, his bare feet making little noise on the cold tile floor as he sought out a stairwell. He had to get out of here, figure out what he was going to do.

He'd find Conner. His partner was no doctor, but he was a historian, specializing in metahumans and superheroes. Conner would know how to handle things, would know who could help.

The familiar ding of an arriving elevator caught his ear, and Jeremy turned towards the sound. He hurried down a side hallway, stopping in front of a pair of stainless steel doors. As if to confirm his invisibility theory, no hideous reflection stared back from the shiny metal. The only people visible were a couple more security types and another nurse.

The doors opened and he ducked aside, nimbly avoiding the four new guards who had apparently arrived to help in the search. Jeremy jabbed at the button for the Lobby, and breathed a sigh of relief as the doors closed once again and the elevator began to move. It jerked to a sudden stop almost immediately, however, and a disconcertingly friendly voice echoed from a hidden speaker.

"We apologize for the inconvenience, but the hospital is currently undergoing a routine security drill. If you are a doctor in an emergency situation, please input your four digit security code into the numeric pad now. Thank you for choosing Crey Industries, where we constantly strive to 'Build a Better You'.

Jeremy stared at the speaker. The relief he'd felt at making it into the elevator melted away in favor of returning panic as the transport remained motionless. The woman's voice repeated the announcement in Spanish before falling silent, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

The security keypad hung on the opposite side of the doors from the floor selection buttons, but if he put in a bad code, it would almost certainly alert the guards to his location. He had little choice, though. If he did nothing, they'd find him anyway, and he had no idea how to make sure the invisibility effect stayed on or how to do it again.

With a deep breath, he tried the obvious first. 1-2-3-4 merely resulted in an angry buzz, however, and a scarlet light began to flash over the keypad. The apology announcement began again, but Jeremy ignored it as he tried a different combination. 5-6-7-8 resulted in another buzz. 4-3-2-1, the same.

The announcer's voice spoke again. "Please be patient. Security will be with you momentarily. Thank you for choosing Crey Industries, where we strive to 'Build a Better You'.

"Damn it!" Jeremy shouted. He hammered his fist against the steel paneled wall of the elevator, trying to think what might work. He didn't know enough about medicine to guess what might appeal to a doctor for a code. The only one he knew was a surgeon he played golf with occasionally at the Paragon City Country Club.

A wild inspiration struck him. The club had eighteen holes, a par 72. He tapped 1-8-7-2 on the keypad and the blinking red light changed to a solid amber. "Emergency override accepted," the woman's voice said from the speaker. The elevator began descending again, and Jeremy let out a sigh of relief.

Jeremy pressed himself against the side wall of the elevator before the doors opened on the lobby. He still had no reflection in the polished steel, but he didn't want to take chances. The doors chimed twice and slid open, but noone charged in or shot into the apparently empty space.

A cautious peek around the corner showed two guards approaching with suspicious expressions and guns drawn. They didn't react to his presence however, so Jeremy decided to risk making a break for the main doors. He could see the sun streaming through the glass panels, saw passers-by outside, but why wasn't the exit guarded?

Half a dozen security officers stood in the lobby, talking to staff members or scanning the area, but none blocked the doors. He had no idea why, but Jeremy wasn't about to question the apparent gift from the gods.

As soon as he put a hand on the handle of the door, however, he learned why noone stood nearby. A surge of electricity arced through him, surrounding him in a coil of sparking energy as an alarm shrilled. Waves of nausea and pain cascaded through him as he collapsed to his knees on the cold floor. His makeshift drape began to smoke and he ripped it away with trembling hands even as it caught fire.

The electricity stopped coursing into him as suddenly as it had begun, but his muscles continued to spasm uncontrollably. The guards had halted in a circle around him, staring with open revulsion at the sight of his body. They still had their guns trained on him, however.

"Invisibility, not teleport," one guard said into his radio. "We have him at the front door, he set off the Tesla Cage."

Hands pulled him roughly into a sitting position, but his legs wouldn't obey his commands to stand and run. A jab in his left arm drew a whipped gaze in that direction where a man's bearded face slowly withdrew.

"That should settle him." The voice was familiar, somehow. Jeremy had heard it before. Just before…before he'd woken up in the hospital. As the world swam and his vision darkened, Jeremy remembered the name. Dr. Franz Jenks, the head of the project. The doctor who'd injected him with the experimental serum. The man who'd ruined his life.