The syringe hissed as Irwin plunged it into his thigh without hesitation.

"No, don't-!" Fletcher Sr.'s voice thundered across the dining hall, but it was too late.

The drug hit instantly.

Isaac's father clenched his jaw, the lines in his face deepening. He looked furious - no, disappointed. The son he'd spent years moulding into a perfect successor was losing control in front of everyone.

'Irwin, you fool,' the thought burned through his skull. The bald man's cold composure cracked, if only for a moment. His eyes flicked toward Isaac, his other son he'd deemed too soft, and there was something unreadable there.

A question, perhaps. A calculation.

Isaac could read it easily. 'He's thinking about how best to spin this, even now.' That ruthless mind of his was always working, and if anything, he seemed curious to see how things would turn out

There was no need to call more guards or for things to get more out of control, he would just let things happen and clean up the mess.

As for the source of the drug, Isaac wasn't even surprised. TEMP Z was one of Nyx's early masterpieces - a volatile cocktail that granted temporary mutant-like power. Its distribution was widespread, especially among syndicates and underground markets. The Fletchers had their hands in both. If there was profit to be made, his father could find it.

The irony made Isaac almost laugh. 'They have no idea the man behind that syringe is the same lunatic who tore my arm off. I doubt they would even care anyway.'

Irwin gritted his teeth as the drug surged through him. His body convulsed, muscles ballooning grotesquely beneath his skin. Veins bulged across his arms and neck as his suit ripped apart at the seams. The whites of his eyes were swallowed by red veins.

Then came the roar.

"AAARGH!" Irwin bellowed, slamming his fists down. The entire dining table splintered, a deafening crack splitting the hall. Plates, crystal, and silverware exploded into a storm of debris. The ground beneath his feet cracked as his frame grew heavier, larger.

It was monstrous.

Sven reacted instantly, blurring across the room. He swept Elizabeth and their trembling mother away from the blast zone, landing near the far corner of the dining room with both women in his arms.

He glanced back just in time to see Fletcher Sr. staring at him, his normally hard eyes filled with something close to panic.

Sven smirked. "Sorry, this service is reserved for ladies," he said with mock politeness. "Don't worry, though - your sons should be finished soon enough."

Fletcher Sr. could only glare, speechless, as he backed away to watch the scene unfold.

Meanwhile, the beast Irwin had become turned his attention to Isaac.

"Who do you think you are!?" Irwin roared, spit flying, eyes bloodshot with fury. He charged, each step shaking the marble floor.

Isaac stood perfectly still until the last second, then moved just enough to let the massive fist whistle past his face. The air pressure from the swing alone rattled his hair. Irwin's punch shattered the wall behind him, sending chunks of plaster flying.

The next swing came like a hammer, the next like a falling tree. Isaac flowed between them, silent and untouchable, his movements economical - almost lazy.

Compared to the spars with Kai during the Mutant Training Camp, this was nothing. Kai fought with precision and intent. Irwin fought like a rabid animal.

Irwin let out a frustrated snarl as his oversized fists cut through nothing but air.

"Stop dodging!"

Isaac smiled faintly. "This is the most fun I've had since dinner started."

That mocking tone only made Irwin angrier. His movements grew even more reckless, wild swings that tore through furniture and walls alike. Every missed hit only made him sloppier. Isaac stepped aside, ducked, twisted, each time moving just enough to stay a hair's breadth out of reach.

He didn't even use his phasing ability. He simply didn't need to.

Irwin's punches could shatter concrete; one solid hit would've turned a normal man into paste. But Isaac danced through it, weaving through destruction with eerie composure.

And then, after a few deliberate seconds of proving he could, Isaac decided he'd had enough.

"Alright," he said quietly, brushing dust off his sleeve. "My turn."

He stepped in. One smooth kick to the side of Irwin's knee - bone popped. Another to the groin - Irwin howled, doubling over. A swift jab to the solar plexus, followed by a sharp kick to the ribs. Isaac targeted the weak points between the bloated muscles with surgical precision; his strikes were fast and punishing.

The monstrous muscle didn't help Irwin; it only slowed him down.

"I only need one arm to fight someone like you, big brother." Isaac's tone was calm, but the glint in his eyes was sharp.

Each hit drove Irwin further back until, finally, his swollen body could no longer keep up. The TEMP Z was burning out. There was too much strain, too fast. His enhanced physique began to deflate as exhaustion and nausea hit him like a wave.

A final blow to the chest sent him crashing to the ground. The once-proud heir of the Fletcher family lay sprawled amidst the wreckage, gasping for air.

Sven gave a low whistle, his grin wide. "Remind me never to piss you off, nerd boy."

Even Takeshi's stoic face softened with a faint smile. Elizabeth, standing beside her mother, looked stunned - eyes darting between her brothers, her lips trembling somewhere between fear and disbelief.

Isaac dusted off his hands and straightened his collar, looking down at the wreck of his twin. Irwin's body twitched as the last traces of the drug drained away, leaving only a pale, battered man where the raging monster had stood.

At the far end of the table, their parents watched in silence. Fletcher Sr.'s face was carved in disbelief; he didn't know whether to feel pride or fury. Their mother's trembling hand clutched her chest, eyes glassy with tears.

Isaac didn't wait for their reactions. He'd said what he needed to without words.

He looked around at the destroyed dining hall, the unconscious guards, the broken table, and his fallen brother. Then, with a calm sigh, he muttered, almost to himself:

"Dinner's over."

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