Kilgrave's abilities were dangerous—extremely dangerous—but abilities were neutral. Tools.
In the hands of a decent person, that power could make them a hero. In the hands of a teenage girl like Tessa, it meant controlling boys who didn't like her and punishing girls she hated. Annoying, but relatively harmless.
But Kilgrave himself? He was danger and madness combined. His abilities amplified his worst impulses into atrocities. And before I'd killed him, he'd been attacked at that restaurant—which meant he knew someone was targeting him.
If Kilgrave wanted to investigate me, he'd start from the restaurant.
Which meant Mom would be in his crosshairs.
So the ability itself was secondary. What mattered was whether Kilgrave was truly dead.
And honestly? I didn't think a superpower could be copied onto another person so easily in that short time. Either this serum had severe, irreversible side effects, or its effects were only temporary.
Time to find out which.
I walked into an alley near Technology Pioneers' building and confirmed I was alone, scanning my surroundings for cameras. Then I took a deep breath, drew my wand from my waist, and carefully adjusted my magical output.
Let's see if this works.
"Occulte"
I tapped my wand against the top of my head.
The sensation was immediate and bizarre—like someone had cracked an egg over my skull. An invisible, cold liquid flowed down from the crown of my head, spreading across my body in a cascading wave.
I looked down.
I can't see myself.
My hands were gone. My body was gone. The Occulte Charm had worked perfectly—I was completely invisible. It was a spell with French origins that could pretty much do the same thing as the a classic invisibility spell. It was just more adapted to my situation because of the fact that it can occult everything from scent, steps, to body heat.
"Huh..."
I exhaled slowly, relief flooding through me.
My magic core is growing at a much faster pace than I thought.
I'd only intended to test whether I could cast the spell at all. I'd had a backup plan involving a lot of mind spells if this failed. But apparently, my magical reserves had grown enough to handle medium-difficulty spells smoothly.
Good. Very good.
I didn't waste time. Still invisible, I walked straight toward Technology Pioneers' building.
It wasn't midnight yet—the building still had lights on, employees working late. That actually made things easier. An empty building would've required breaking in. A populated one? I could just walk through the front door.
Which is exactly what I did.
I passed through the gate and security checkpoint without anyone noticing, slipping into the building's interior like a ghost.
The building's structural diagram was mounted on the wall near the elevators.
Thank you, corporate safety regulations.
I studied it quickly, committing the layout to memory. The laboratories were on the twenty-first floor. I could take the stairs, but that would take time and energy—
Ding.
The nearby elevator opened.
Two researchers stepped out, talking quietly about weekend plans, and walked toward the exit. They passed within a foot of me without the slightest awareness.
I slipped into the elevator before the doors closed.
When they shut, I pressed the button for the twenty-first floor and waited.
The elevator rose smoothly, and I tried not to think about how surreal this was.
Breaking into a corporate research facility using invisible magic to investigate whether a mind-controlling supervillain is actually dead.
Just my kind of night.
The elevator doors opened onto the twenty-first floor.
I stepped out carefully, moving past two security guards stationed in the corridor. They were alert, professional—eyes scanning for threats.
They saw nothing.
I wandered through the hallway, peering into laboratories on either side. Most were dark, equipment powered down for the night. But one lab near the end of the corridor still had lights on.
Bingo.
I approached slowly, peering through the window.
Three researchers worked inside, hunched over equipment, completely focused on their experiments. One of them—a younger man with tired eyes—suddenly looked up, frowning.
He glanced at the door, as if he'd sensed something.
The invisible Abel stood perfectly still, barely breathing, watching the researcher's face carefully. The Disillusionment Charm was holding, but some people had better instincts than others—subconscious awareness of displaced air or subtle temperature changes.
The researcher stared at the door for several long seconds, then shook his head, muttering about damn overtime work.
I waited another moment, then slipped inside while the door was briefly unlatched.
The lab was clean, organized, filled with the kind of expensive equipment that screamed "well-funded research project." A desk sat against the far wall, computer monitor glowing softly.
Perfect.
I moved behind the desk, careful not to disturb any papers. The computer was unlocked—security protocols apparently relaxed when researchers were actively working.
Sloppy. But convenient for me.
I moved the mouse quietly and began reading through the experiment records.
It didn't take long to piece together what was happening here.
Technology Pioneers' upper management—probably Hydra front men—had assigned research tasks to the scientists below. They'd been given living cells and genetic material from an unknown source and told to identify what made those cells different from normal human biology.
Their goal: develop a serum that could replicate those special abilities in ordinary people.
And they'd succeeded.
I have to admit, these scientists are good.
It hadn't been long since I'd killed Kilgrave—only a few months—and they'd already created a preliminary version of a serum that granted his mind-control abilities.
Of course, the serum had problems.
Severe problems.
According to the notes, anyone who used the serum experienced hormonal imbalances and physiological disorders that were difficult—maybe impossible—to regulate. Long-term health consequences were almost guaranteed.
The effects were also temporary and inconsistent. Depending on individual physiology, the abilities could last anywhere from less than a week to about a month. Strength varied wildly too—some test subjects achieved power levels close to Kilgrave's, others could barely influence anyone.
Clearly not ready for mass production, thank god.
That explained why security around the serum was lax enough for Tessa to steal a sample when visiting her father.
But one detail in the documents made my blood run cold.
"Cells and genetic material sourced from deceased superhuman subject. Identity: CLASSIFIED."
They didn't name him explicitly.
But I knew.
Kilgrave's body.
I leaned back slightly, processing this.
Kilgrave is definitely dead. That's confirmed.
Relief washed over me, followed immediately by anger.
But S.H.I.E.L.D. took his body. And Hydra—because of course it's fucking Hydra—got tissue samples.
My previous action killing Kilgrave had been too conspicuous, too public. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been there first, collected the body for analysis. And because Hydra had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. at every level, they'd gotten access to Kilgrave's cells and genetic material.
No evidence. But high probability.
I stared at the screen, mind racing.
So now the question is: what do I do?
Option one: leave immediately. Kilgrave was dead, which was my primary concern. Mission accomplished.
Option two: destroy everything. Burn the research, corrupt the data, set back Hydra's timeline for replicating Kilgrave's abilities.
The second option was tempting.
Very tempting.
But also risky. Destroying a corporate laboratory would draw attention—S.H.I.E.L.D. attention, Hydra attention, possibly even the Ancient One's attention if she deemed my action too destructive.
And I was already on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. Adding "corporate saboteur" to my list of crimes seemed unwise.
But if I don't act, Hydra continues developing this serum.
Eventually, they perfect it. Mass produce it. Create an army of mind-controllers.
I stood behind the desk, invisible, weighing my options.
Consequences either way.
Choose carefully.