"My God! Do you see this? The serum's active compound generates a specialized high-molecular polymer that can actually encase and isolate cancer cells!"
"It also appears to disrupt their nutrient pathways, effectively crippling their most terrifying ability—uncontrolled proliferation!"
Why is cancer so feared? It is because of its capacity for limitless replication, mutation, and insidious metastasis.
Once the population of cancer cells grows beyond the body's ability to suppress it, they multiply endlessly, destroying healthy tissue. They invade neighboring systems and travel through the circulatory or lymphatic networks to colonize distant parts of the body. In this process, they hijack the body's resources, multiplying voraciously until they become the grim specter threatening a patient's very existence.
Globally, millions are diagnosed with cancer each year. It remains one of humanity's most formidable and often terminal adversaries. But now, a medical breakthrough worthy of every accolade lay before them.
The reagent Aaron provided created a selective barrier against malignant cells, starving them into oblivion and neutralizing their core threat. Even if reverse-engineering it proved complex and costly, demand would be insatiable.
In the face of cancer, all are equal. A billionaire stricken with an aggressive form is already halfway to the grave. If such people knew this serum existed, what wouldn't they spend to 'buy' their life back? Their fortunes are counted in billions. They don't fear a high price; they fear something priceless being utterly unattainable. Everyone in the room could picture the desperate, lavish bids, the pleas for the miracle cure.
"The compound… it shares some structural similarities with certain biological inhibitors found in extremophile species. Reproducing it with our current tech might take considerable time," one researcher ventured cautiously.
Norman laughed, a booming sound of unrestrained triumph. "But we have the finished product! Figuring out how to replicate it is just a matter of time and focus!"
The pharmaceutical industry operated on this principle: replication was often straightforward; true barriers were patents and foundational innovation. The proliferation of generic drugs in certain markets proved that. Mimicry was always simpler than genesis.
And they were Oscorp.
"Sir, Mr. Osborn," another scientist reported, eyes wide with data. "We've run multiple simulations on the anti-aging serum. The models indicate it can effectively decelerate human senescence, dramatically extending the prime of life and preserving one's appearance against time's ravages."
"If administration begins at age twenty, with monthly doses, physical aging can be virtually halted for approximately thirty years."
"From fifty to eighty, the aging process would be remarkably gradual, with subjects retaining a physiological age equivalent to someone in their twenties or thirties, without severe deterioration."
"Post-eighty, due to potential cumulative resistance, efficacy would diminish, leading to a more noticeable decline. However, even in a worst-case scenario, one could maintain an appearance roughly equivalent to their original sixties until the end of a natural lifespan."
"Furthermore, with regular monthly administration, lifespan extension is also projected. Under ideal conditions, free from disease, individuals could reach the theoretical human limit of around one hundred and twenty years. With optimized or more frequent dosing, this could potentially extend even further."
"Combined with other advanced biomedical procedures, the effects could be even more pronounced."
Norman's grin threatened to split his face. While simulations contained margins of error and couldn't account for every environmental variable, this single data point was enough to drive the world—especially a certain demographic obsessed with youth—into a frenzy.
We are going to be unimaginably rich, he thought.
"Sir, the analgesic test results are confirmed!" a third researcher announced. "Our analysis shows that upon injection, the effect is dose-dependent. At the highest concentration, it can induce a state of complete sensory blockade—no pain perception whatsoever, even from catastrophic injury, until the moment of death."
"And… preliminary biocompatibility modeling suggests it is entirely non-toxic. No detectable side effects on healthy systems."
"This is nothing short of a medical miracle. It existed only in theory until now."
A medical miracle? Norman and the senior staff exchanged glances, unimpressed by the term. They had already witnessed the real miracle. The serums were merely the artifacts. The true miracle was Aaron, standing calmly at the center of their fervor. He was the source.
"Sir," Norman said, his voice thick with genuine awe. "There is no question. You have just propelled the entire field of human medicine into a new epoch. History will record your contribution. You are the Einstein, the Newton of biomedical science. You have surpassed Tony Stark. You have surpassed Howard Stark. They wouldn't be fit to polish your boots."
The others murmured fervent agreement. Combined with the previously demonstrated super-healing and limb-regeneration formulas, this constituted a complete suite of life-preserving technologies. Once fully realized and disseminated, Aaron, through his work alone, could slash the global mortality rate by a staggering margin. He would be responsible for saving countless lives.
Aaron felt a familiar swell of pride. If they kept praising him, he might just float up and tango with the sun. While the Primal Furnace was the instrument, he and it were one and the same. And even without it, his current enhanced intellect, if wholly dedicated to research, could likely match wits with a Tony Stark. He had to acknowledge that Stark represented the current pinnacle of human genius.
But, Aaron thought, a smirk playing on his lips, I've already opened the cheat codes. Why would I confine myself to the 'human ceiling'? If I can't shatter every ceiling in my path, if I can't surpass a mere Tony Stark, then what was the point of all this?
He raised his hands, and the room fell silent instantly, awaiting his command.
"Norman," Aaron began, his tone casual yet edged with steel. "Everyone here is bound by the comprehensive non-disclosure and non-compete agreements, correct?"
"Absolutely, sir. Ironclad."
"Good. Then, until these products are fully developed and ready for our controlled release, I do not want a single whisper of their existence to escape these walls. If it does…" Aaron's smile vanished. A palpable, psychic chill descended on the room, dropping the ambient temperature by a perceptible degree. The researchers shivered, a primal fear touching their spines. "…you understand the consequences. The law, at times, offers rather flimsy protection."
He let the silence hang for a beat, then his expression softened back into its usual amiable mask. But the brief glimpse of chilling authority had been stark and unforgettable. They had all heard the stories of this boss's methods.
Norman stepped forward, his own voice now officious and stern. "Sir, you have my personal guarantee. Effective immediately, this project team will operate under total sequestration. We will eat, sleep, and work within the designated high-security R&D wing. No one leaves the facility until we have succeeded. This is non-negotiable."
A chorus of determined assent followed. They were witnessing, and participating in, a turning point in human history—a chance to have their names etched in the annals of science. The potential bonuses and shares were monumental.
Life is precious, liberty valuable, but for this kind of legacy and reward? The collective, unspoken sentiment was clear: From now on, Oscorp is our home.