After Steve and his team left, Nolan descended into Oscorp's private containment levels.
His collection of "specimens" had once again reached full strength.
And, begrudgingly, Scott Lang.
Truth be told, Scott's value paled in comparison to the others.
Yes, Scott could shrink to the quantum level and grow into a thirty-foot giant.
But from a research standpoint?
He was hardly groundbreaking compared to the monstrous durability of Rhino, or the supernatural forces embedded in Black Sky.
Black Sky's secrets were already being dissected.
Sooner or later, the creature would either escape or be fully drained of its demonic energies.
Nolan wasn't concerned.
If Beast, the true intelligence lurking inside Black Sky, wanted to trade mystical knowledge for his freedom, Nolan would even consider it.
But right now, his attention turned to Daniel Rand.
Scientifically? Danny had already served his purpose.
Socially, however... controlling Rand Enterprises could still be a lucrative tool.
But that would require keeping Danny alive and controllable.
And Nolan despised unnecessary variables.
"I prefer certainties over chaos," he muttered.
That was the essence of true science: transforming unpredictable variables into defined results.
In the end, Nolan decided.
He would extract everything valuable from Daniel's mind, particularly the exact coordinates of K'un-Lun, and then...
Nolan motioned to his assistants.
They wheeled Danny's limp form to a clean table.
Nolan placed his hands over Danny's forehead.
Dragonforce and psychic energy surged into the Iron Fist's mind.
Last time, he'd rushed through only scanning for the Iron Fist Codex knowledge.
Extracting everything.
At last, Nolan had what he needed.
And Nolan's vision was wrenched from the sterile lab into a swirling abyss of blackness, illuminated only by roaring crimson flames.
Before him towered a colossal dragon, sleek and serpentine, halfway between Eastern elegance and Western monstrosity.
Its eyes are massive, and vertical gold slits pinned him with fury.
"Fool," the dragon snarled, its voice like an earthquake. "You dare to steal the power of the Dragon?!"
He recognized the creature immediately.
The so-called source of the Iron Fist's might.
But Nolan knew the truth.
Just another weapon another pawn trapped by ancient mistakes.
Depending on which legend you believed, Shou-Lao had once been:
A fisherman cursed by the dragons after betraying them for personal gain—his heart ripped out, his body chained to an endless cycle of death and rebirth.
A summoned monstrosity from a forgotten dimension, enslaved by sorcerers to assault K'un-Lun, only to be defeated and trapped in eternal agony.
Either way, Shou-Lao wasn't noble.
An eternal engine of power, beaten and recycled for centuries.
"You're no king," Nolan said softly. "You're a battery."
Shou-Lao's golden eyes burned with rage.
"I will mark you. I will haunt you. You will never know peace."
"Maybe," he said. "But right now—"
The illusion shattered.
With a flick of Nolan's will, the psychic realm dissolved into mist.
Back in the lab, Danny's chest tattoo, the stylized dragon, flickered and dimmed.
Without the anchor of Shou-Lao's influence, the Iron Fist's power was severed.
Danny Rand had been stripped of everything that made him special.
Shou-Lao was powerful, yes.
But he was not a god.
Nolan now is the Iron Fist.
He turned to his assistants.
Danny Rand, once the Immortal Iron Fist, was wheeled toward the incinerator.
With a roar, the flames consumed what remained.
Nolan watched silently.
This was the third superhero, directly or indirectly, who had fallen to him.
The Defenders were practically extinct.
Only Luke Cage remained.
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