27 Aquaphobia

'Impressive.' Sinister thought to himself as he looked upon the monitor screen displaying the battle taking place within Oscorp.

It had definitely grown beyond his expectations and showcased a number of unique power sets and technological advancements that even he was curious in. But there was also so much untapped potential in nearly every one of them, so many ways they could use their powers that they had not yet considered or attempted.

The only one who seemed to have done that was Scott Summers.

His simplistic and basic power set made ways of enhancing it further on his own very limited. Yet he had done his best, managing to control the output of his powers excellently well, though there were pauses. His control was not perfect and required a great deal of focus and concentration to pull off it seemed, though that was hardly a bad thing.

Scott had instead focused much of his training and improvements on himself, physically and mentally. His athleticism was well-beyond what most his age would have been able to pull off without proper guidance and resources. It was that training that enabled him to manoeuvre around the likes of his opponents with seeming ease.

But most dangerous of all, was his mind.

Sinister had seen such things in Scott from a young age, all stemming from the moment his parents died. Something in that moment, the trauma, the newfound responsibility for his brother, Alex, all of it drove Scott into becoming something different. The child Scott was before his parents' deaths was infinitely different to the child Scott was following it.

Ignoring him at that point became impossible.

The way Scott acted, the caution, blatant determination and analytical gaze with which he studied everything around him, all of it was unnatural and intriguing. His journey across state borders to find his brother, to the handling of a serial killer who threatened his brother's life, all culminating with a spree of robberies and squatting that led to a clash with the police in a small town that was aided by a telepath.

None of it was normal, least of all Scott whose limitation had been only his physical body. His use of his powers combined with his strategic and purposeful movements from the town had driven home just how different Scott was from every other child in the world.

It was a difference he proved now as he fought against Norman Osborn's unique projects. A difference that made him the clear victor and Sinister leaned back into his chair comfortably, knowing full well that his current plan would not work. Scott had proven himself too skilled and his powers were much more dangerous than he had expected.

The improvements he had made to Tombstone would not hold.

A fact that Scott proved when Rhino charged towards Scott who just exited the laboratory through the hole he created. Another beam of red energy fired out from Scott's eyes, smashing into Rhino and driving him back into the ground.

It was bigger and brighter, but also sustained.

Sinister leaned forwards in interest to see the aftermath and was left smiling dangerously when looked upon the results. 'Most impressive indeed.' He marvelled, Sinister looking upon the broken body of Rhino as he lay there on the floor, unmoving and blood pooling out onto the floor.

He was not dead, Sinister could make out the minuscule rising and falling of his chest as his laboured breath kept him on the verge of not dying. His body was a mangled mess as well, his limbs twisted in awkward angles, bones protruding through his skin, broken in numerous points. Patches of his armoured skin, seemingly completely erased with one hand and his horn completely missing.

The Rhino was a shadow of his former self.

Nothing like the hulking beast he had been moments prior, but a broken and defeated animal waiting to be finished off. A shame considering there was so much untapped potential within him, but that could come later.

No, Sinister was more focused on Scott's reaction.

The pause, the hesitation.

There had been an instinctive move to strike with such force, perhaps with even more force that Scott had restrained, but not completely. Now he was looking upon the result of his actions, the power he could unleash and the damage he could cause and there was a reflection of horror in his eyes.

One that did not disappear, but became smothered almost.

His focus changed back to Sandman and away from the broken body at his feet. 'Curious.' Sinister marvelled. 'There's a killer instinct within him, one he tries hard to suppress but seemingly can't completely control.'

As always, the more he watched Scott move through the world, his interest continued to grow. No longer was he purely focused on the Summers bloodline and the power it held and the potential child it could create when joined with the Greys.

No.

Scott Summers was an enigma.

A unique child with more and more oddities that attracted his scientific mind like a moth to a flame. Sinister wanted to understand everything he could about Scott, the puzzle that was seemingly unsolvable but with a single solution that dangled before him, tempting and challenging him.

Sinister wanted to understand what made Scott who he was.

But one thing was clear to him, trusting Kingpin and Norman's failed experiments to do the job was pointless. They still had their uses, especially Rhino that still lived, but it would seem that he needed new allies to fulfil this new goal of his.

Luckily for Sinister, he had lived for a long time and gathered many favours and followers.

It was time to call in a few of them.

-X-

Rushing up the stairs two at a time, Scott propelled himself up further by gripping hold of the railing on his left-hand side as much as he could. His breathing was growing heavy, Scott pushing his body to its limits, his stamina beginning to reach its end.

Yet he did not stop, did not pause for even a single moment.

Scott couldn't let himself stop moving now.

He didn't even hesitate as he looked over the edge, Scott firing a powerful blast from his eyes down at the floor below, striking the swirling pillar of sand that was rushing up towards him. It exploded outwards, cracking and destroying a number of stairs as the sand swirled in place, unsure of where to go.

In that time, Scott climbed another flight before repeating the action once more.

He was nearly there, hesitating now would cost him heavily.

All that mattered at this moment in time was getting to the one place in which Scott could take advantage of Sandman's biggest weakness; water. If he didn't, then this would become a war of attrition and one that Scott knew he would lose.

But it wasn't desperation that fuelled him.

Such emotions led to mistakes and simple errors.

Panic and desperation dulled the mind and that was his sharpest and most powerful weapon. A dull weapon would get him killed and Scott was not about to die after having just begun his journey.

Not when at this moment, Amelia would be searching for Warren, possibly having already found him. She may have even joined up with Spider-Man if he was not dealing with other problems, but there was no doubt in his mind that his plans were already unfolding as he predicted. Amelia wasn't going to prioritise stopping him when Warren was in danger, even if she didn't believe him, she would still check just in case he was right.

Scott had already attacked Oscorp by the time she would have arrived and at that point, stopping what was happening was impossible. That was something Amelia would understand straight away, at which point, there was no harm in using the chaos to check the building to be sure.

As for Spider-Man, Scott knew he could not destroy Oscorp right here and now.

Bringing to light what they were doing would damage their reputation for sure, but at the end of the day, Oscorp had received no troubles for its illegal experimentation and work in Cyclops' world. The chances are that things would be the same here as well, the work they were doing was after all, very profitable to the governments of the world and they'd give him a free pass.

No, the best way to halt Oscorp, for now, was to give Norman something else to focus his attention on, a foe that would consistently interrupt and stall the progression of his plans. Spider-Man was one such foe, a hero with a good head on his shoulders and an even better heart. One that when learning the truth, would stop at nothing in his crusade to expose Norman for the monster he truly was.

All Scott needed to do was direct Spider-Man to Norman and let him off the leash.

Firing one last blast over the edge, Scott climbed up the last leg of stairs before pushing open the door. However, he clung to the wall, not rushing into the main foyer as the instant the door opened a fraction of an inch, a hail of bullets rained down upon it.

The fact that no guards had come down to the laboratory during his fight against Rhino and Sandman was telling enough. When they actually opened a path for him to go down was even more so. Norman wanted to use him to test his latest products and then capture or kill him for the attack upon his company.

Clearly, killing was more important to Norman.

Yet Scott waited patiently, already hearing the mass of sand rushing up the stairway towards him, the bullets ricocheting off the metal door and piercing into solid concrete making a rhythmic sound that was almost calming to his ears.

His breathing evened out and Scott counted down the seconds in his mind. 'Five. Four.' The bullets began to pepper out, many of the guards lined on the other side having emptied their magazines and reloading another. 'Three. Two.' The sound of bullets intensified as sand began to peek up at the bottom of the stairs, Sandman nearly upon him. 'One.'

Scott turned, firing his Optic Blasts at the wall on the other side, opening a way into the main foyer. The bullets stopped, orders being shouted just as Sandman appeared before him, a large solidified hammer raised and ready to come down upon him.

A faked movement to the hole he had created led to Sandman bringing it down where he thought Scott would go. The hammer smashed down into the stairway, breaking through the staircase, but Scott was not there. He had instead, turned Optic Blast firing out into another section of the wall and opening another entryway that he dived through.

There was a single moment in which he surveyed the area.

Dozens of guards, many waiting at the entryways to the building, posing as armed men having taken over Oscorp. Police were outside, hesitant to enter as what they thought was a hostage situation unfolded before him. Many more armed guards surrounded the staircase, eyes wide as they slowly turned their guns to him, pausing as they looked upon the figure behind him.

Sandman.

The shadow covering his body made it clear that he was about to be cut in half by an axe swing.

Yet Scott did not move to avoid it.

He instead looked up, a thin blast firing out from his eyes and rushing up to the walkway above, the axe closing in upon his body. Despite what people believed, fire sprinklers could not be triggered by pulling the fire alarm. They could be triggered accidentally as well, but it was rare, with almost sixteen million to one chance of it happening.

But sprinklers could be trigged purposefully.

Whether that be by causing a fire, or as Scott was doing, striking the bulb within the fire sprinkler itself. A tiny, almost impossible-to-hit bulb, but one that Scott was determined to hit and one he had no intention of missing.

He didn't even move out of the way of the path of the axe, there was no time.

Scott instead fired a blast from his eyes, striking the guards in front of him. Sandman was completely ignored, the threat posed by him, disappearing from his mind despite the very real possibility of death.

Yet, the bulb shattered and the water sprayed from the sprinklers.

Scott rose to his feet, more and more blasts fired from his eyes, taking out more guards, some blasts bouncing off walls and hitting those hidden behind the cover. It was quick and decisive, Scott never once hesitating, unlike his opponents who were unsure of what to do or how to react.

They weren't used to this.

He was.

That was the deciding factor in this engagement.

As the guards dropped to the ground, Scott then looked over his shoulder towards the sludge of wet sand that collapsed to the ground, a hand reaching out towards him but breaking apart, the weight too much for it to hold together.

It was his victory.

Yet he did not stop to celebrate or cheer.

Scott instead turned to look up where he heard the sound of fighting.

Things were not finished yet.

So, taking a deep breath, Scott moved forwards once more.