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Military Sex Pollen and its Superhuman Guinea Pigs

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"Everything ready for the test of Formula 423-S, Lieutenant?" General Eiling looked grimly over the shoulder.

"Yes, sir. Captain Atom and Major Force are on their way to the uninhabited island we chose, and the Formula has been well diffused through island's environment through native plant life. Satelite images are on screen 4, sir." Lt. Martin Allard *glared* at the screens, his hand involuntary drifting towards the to the switch that would kill his mother's murderer for good.

"Good, Lieutenant," said Gen. Eiling, a smile of grim satisfaction on his face as he watched Nathanial Adam approach this newest torture.

Five minutes later, the satellite images and several of the *other* scanners exploded in a clash of black matter and yellow energy bolts. In another minute, the island was completely deserted, its plant life burned to a crisp. There were no signs of Captain Atom or Major Force. Martin's heart rejoiced. Eiling, too, smiled for a second.

"Damnit! Send teams to investigate the island and check effects of formula. Full hasmat protection for now," ordered the General. "Effects on metahumans unclear. Try less powerful test subjects next."

"Yessir," said Allard, sending off the appropriate orders. "And Captain Adam and Major Zmeck, sir?"

"Have a watch kept on that island *indefinitely*. I suspect another temporal leap."


Twenty years later, an urgent message arrived on the desk of General Randall Eiling. "Notice on Metahuman Control project F423-S MF/CA. Experiment a success. Reported to Gen. Eiling for immediate containment team; test subjects are preoccupied but may become violent."