“This is a non-disclosure agreement.” MODOK lowers his chair a bit and has the grace to look a little embarrassed. "My team of lawyertrons insists on it, as though MODOK can be COWED by the POINTLESS LEGAL CONSTRUCTS of ANTS.” A cloud of mechanical wasps issues from a concealed compartment in the wall and ferries a slim bundle of high-quality, densely typed pages to me. I’m completely bemused, my ears only slightly ringing from this latest outburst. "If you’re submitting yourself to me for debasement in the name of IRREPLACEABLE scientific advances, you’ll need to sign this.”

“And if I don’t want to sign anything?”

“Then you will be permitted to leave, and denied the honor of assisting MODOK in his brilliant crusade.“

"What does this agreement mean?”

“It means you cannot disclose anything about us, or the information I extract from your reactions to a variety of stimuli. Anything, to anyone.”

I stare at him in disbelief. Holy shit. It’s bad, really bad, and now I’m very curious to know.

“Okay. I’ll sign.”

He hands me an enormous pen that hums with sinister potential, and I wonder for a moment if there is anything in his building that isn’t classified as an Omega-level threat to human life.

“Aren’t you even going to read it?”

“No.”

He frowns, even more than usual.

“You can read it, though, correct?”

“Yes!“

“Alright, just checking. Anastasia, you should always read anything you sign,” he admonishes me.

“MODOK, what you fail to understand is that I wouldn’t talk about us to anyone, anyway. Even my roommate. So it’s immaterial whether I sign an agreement or not. If it means so much to you, or your lawyertrons, then fine. I’ll sign.“

He maneuvers his hover chair into a little nod.

"Fair point well made, Miss Steele.”

I lavishly sign on the dotted line of both copies and hold one out, where it is instantly retrieved by the waspbots and whisked from my sight.

“Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, MODOK?” Holy shit. Did I just say that? His gargantuan mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly.

“No, Anastasia, it doesn’t. Firstly, MODOK does not ‘make love,’ you sentiment-addled twit. I engage in internationally prohibited biomedical experiments with no real purpose outside of the pursuit of pure, UNLIMITED knowledge, and in the course of these experiments I experience the only physical pleasure that remains to me. Secondly, there are several more tests to conduct, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still choose to flee from my tower, probably, unless your DNA upsets the cyberwolves down on the ground floor. Their programming has been…erratic. COME! I want to show you my laboratory.”

My mouth drops open. Prohibited! Holy shit, that sounds so… hot. But why is he showing me a laboratory? I am characteristically mystified.

“You want to…go to the bathroom?” I ask. He laughs, loudly, and with unmistakable disdain.

“No, Anastasia, that is not what that word means, you poor fool. Laboratory. With a B. That’s the second letter in the alphabet.” He engages the propulsors on his armored personal transport suit and coils a segmented metal tentacle around my wrist. I let him lead me back out to the corridor. To the right of the double doors where we came in another door leads to a maglev tube wide enough to accommodate three or four people, or one giant grotesque and one woman. We are sucked up several floors and deposited before a twelve-foot high pair of military-grade adamantium doors. After a series of retinal scans, voice authorizations and passwords have been entered, the doors part with a gentle pneumatic hiss.

"You can leave any time. I have a matter transporter that can easily be programmed to deliver you to your domicile, or you can stay the night in one of several recently and hastily-vacated employee dormitories and go home in the morning. You should not fear my interminable wrath, no matter what you decide.”

“Just open the damn door, MODOK.”

“You will pay for your impudence,” he mutters, but I don’t think he’s particularly angry because my bones haven’t been gelatinized. He opens the door and floats back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath, I walk in.

And it feels like I’ve time-traveled to an impossible future, as imagined by a creator whose genius has never been checked by conscience or moral imperative.

Holy fuck.