CURRENT DAY, AFTER THE SUNDERING:
The air inside the EvoGeneX facility wasn't just thick, it was alive. It pressed against Jacob's skin like a suffocating hand, a physical force that made each breath a struggle. The stench was a layered assault, each scent clawing for dominance: the sour tang of sweat, the acrid bite of industrial-strength antiseptic, and beneath it all, something deeper. Something metallic.
Not just the sterile reek of lab chemicals. Not just the nervous musk of human fear.
No.
This was something older.
Something is wrong.
It clung to the back of his throat like the aftertaste of old blood, coppery, sour, lingering no matter how many times he swallowed. His tongue felt heavy, his saliva thick with the phantom residue of rust and salt, as if he'd been sucking on a handful of pennies. The taste was familiar in a way that made his stomach twist, like a half-remembered nightmare.
His boots clicked against the sterile white floors, the sound sharp and hollow in the cavernous space. The echo bounced off the walls, amplifying the unnatural silence that should have been filled with the hum of machines, the chatter of scientists, the rhythm of work.
But there was none of that.
Instead, there was chaos.
Jacob's breath hitched as his eyes adjusted to the fluorescent glare—harsh, unforgiving, bleaching the color from everything it touched. The facility was massive, a sprawling labyrinth of steel and glass, a monument to human ambition and arrogance. He'd seen blueprints before—this place was built like a fortress, designed to withstand everything from pandemics to nuclear fallout.
But what struck him first wasn't the architecture.
It was the sheer, unbridled panic.
Around a hundred scientists, men and women in lab coats, their faces pale, their foreheads slick with sweat, were clustered in frantic groups, clutching sheets of paper like lifelines. No, not just paper. Bible pages. Torn, crumpled, some stained with what looked like tears, others smeared with fingerprints of desperation. Their voices were a cacophony, a storm of terror, overlapping in a dissonant choir of fear.
"—only a few million dead in the Catastrophe, but billions—billions just—gone—"
"—safe zones, they were in safe zones, they didn't die, they fucking vanished—"
"—it's the Rapture, you blind idiots, it's the goddamn Rapture—"
Jacob's stomach twisted. The Rapture? That biblical bullshit? He was an atheist, had been since his parents dumped him in that orphanage, left him to rot in a world that had never given a shit about him. But the fear in these people's eyes wasn't religious fanaticism—it was raw, animal terror, the kind that bypassed logic and went straight to the spine.
Before he could process it further, the crowd shifted, heads snapping toward a figure emerging from a heavy steel door. A man, Asian, late fifties, streaks of gray in his black hair, his face lined with exhaustion, with something deeper than exhaustion, something like grief.
Kevin Yang.
Jacob recognized him from the files. The head of EvoGeneX's American branch. The man who had worked alongside his parents before they vanished. The scientists surged toward Kevin like drowning men reaching for a raft, hands outstretched, voices cracking.
"Dr. Yang! The reports from Europe—the disappearances match the—"
"—the seals, the fucking seals, they're breaking, it's happening—"
"—we're not chosen, we're left behind, we're—"
Kevin didn't answer them. His dark eyes locked onto Jacob, and for a second, something unreadable flickered in them, pity? Guilt? Then it was gone, replaced by cold focus. He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hands grabbing at his coat, the voices begging for answers, the desperation thick enough to choke on.
"Jacob," Kevin said, his voice low but carrying, cutting through the noise like a blade. "Follow me."
Jacob didn't move. His feet felt rooted to the floor, his muscles tense, coiled. "The hell is going on here?"
Before Kevin could answer, one of the scientists, a gaunt woman with wild eyes, her hair sticking to her sweat, drenched face, lunged at Jacob, grabbing his arm with fingers like talons. "You, you're him, aren't you? The one they talked about! The Messiah!"
Another voice, this time a bearded man with bloodshot eyes, his teeth bared in a snarl-like grimace, spat, "No! He's the Antichrist! Look at him, look at his eyes!"
Jacob jerked back, his pulse spiking, adrenaline flooding his veins. "The fuck are you people on?"
Kevin's hand clamped down on his shoulder, steering him away with a grip that brooked no argument. "Ignore them. They don't know what they're saying."
"Yeah, no shit," Jacob muttered, but the words rattled him. Messiah? Antichrist? What the hell had his parents been involved in?
Kevin led him down a narrow hallway, the screams fading behind them, swallowed by the hum of emergency generators, the hiss of pressurized doors. The further they went, the more the facility resembled a bunker, reinforced walls, emergency lights casting everything in a sickly red glow, the air thick with the scent of ozone and fear.
Finally, Kevin stopped in front of a sealed door, typing a code into the keypad with fingers that didn't shake, but only just. The lock hissed, and the door slid open, revealing a small, dimly lit room.
Inside, the air was stale, the only light coming from a flickering monitor on the wall, its glow painting everything in shifting shades of blue and gray. Kevin shut the door behind them, sealing them in silence.
"Start talking," Jacob demanded, his voice a low growl. "What the fuck is this place? Why were those people screaming about the Rapture?"
Kevin exhaled, rubbing his temples like he was trying to push back a migraine. "Because it happened, Jacob. The Rapture. Millions died in the Catastrophe. Billions vanished without a trace. Not just here, everywhere. Safe zones, churches, fucking maternity wards, people just… gone."
Jacob's skin crawled. "Bullshit."
"Your parents were among them."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Jacob's breath stuttered, his chest tightening. "What?"
Kevin's expression didn't change. "They were right in front of me. One second they were there, the next, poof. Like they never existed. No light, no sound. Just… gone." He paused, his gaze boring into Jacob's. "You and Trevor are the only ones who can stop what's coming next."
"Stop what?" Jacob's voice was a snarl, his hands curling into fists. "Speak fucking English!"
"The Apocalypse," Kevin said flatly. "The Book of Revelation. The Antichrist. The end of the world. Your parents found relics, ancient artifacts. Weapons. One of them is meant for you. If you're able to handle it."
Jacob laughed, sharp and humorless. "You expect me to believe this Bible, thumping doomsday crap?"
Kevin's gaze didn't waver. "I didn't believe it either. Not until I saw it with my own eyes." He reached into his coat and pulled out a small remote, pressing a button with deliberate slowness.
The monitor flickered to life.
A grainy video feed filled the screen,a lab, white walls splattered with red, the kind of red that could only be blood. Scientists in bloodied coats scrambled back as something moved in the center of the room. A figure. Humanoid, but wrong. Its skin was translucent, too pale, veins visible like cracks in glass. And its head,
"Jesus Christ," Jacob whispered.
It had no head. Just a floating sphere, ringed by three wings, hovering where its skull should be. The wings fluttered, unnaturally smooth, like they weren't made of flesh but something else, something that bent light around them, something that shouldn't exist.
One of the scientists, a man with a shaking voice, spoke into the camera. "Subject ADAM. Hybrid human-angel DNA. An abomination. It… it mimics. Learns. Adapts. It—"
ADAM's arm snapped forward, elongating like liquid, piercing the scientist's chest in a spray of blood. The man gasped, his eyes bulging as ADAM's limb twisted inside him, then ripped outward, intestines unspooling onto the floor in a wet, glistening heap.
Chaos erupted. Scientists screamed, running for the door, their footsteps slipping in blood. ADAM moved faster, its form shifting, melting, taking the shape of the man it had just killed. Then it was among them, limbs elongating into blades, decapitating one, crushing another's skull with a single hand. Blood painted the walls. A woman begged for mercy before her ribcage burst open from the inside, her scream cut short as her lungs collapsed.
The camera shook as the last surviving scientist, a woman with a gash across her face, her breath coming in ragged sobs, looked into the lens. "Whoever is watching this… don't come to Detroit, deploy the project Neo-Human fast, or the world wil—"
ADAM's hand speared through her throat from behind.
The screen cut to black.
Jacob's hands were shaking. His mouth was dry, his tongue like sandpaper. "What the fuck was that?"
"The beginning," Kevin said. "Your parents' greatest failure. And their first Idea, ADAM."
The screen flickered again. This time, it showed his parents , Anthony and Maria. They looked exhausted, their faces gaunt, their eyes shadowed, but their gazes were fierce, burning with something like determination.
"Jacob, Trevor," his father said, voice rough, like he hadn't slept in days. "If you're seeing this… we're gone. But not dead. Saved, we hope. The Rapture has happened. God's chosen have been taken. The rest of you… will have to fight."
His mother reached out, as if she could touch him through the screen, her fingers trembling. "We love you. More than anything. And we're so sorry we couldn't be with you in the last years of our life here on earth. But you and Trevor… you have to be strong now. The relics, they can be the key to humanity's ultimate hope, use the God-given power for good only. It will hurt at the beginning. But you have to survive it."
The feed glitched. A roar of static. Then…
A sound. Distant, echoing.
Trumpets.
The camera shook violently. His parents' faces twisted in shock.
"Beaware of—" his father started.
Then they were gone. Vanished as soon as Kevin opened the door in the recording.
The screen went black.
Jacob's chest heaved. His vision blurred, his throat tight. "Where are they?"
"Heaven? Maybe" Kevin's voice was hollow. "Doesn't matter. They're not here. And what's coming next will make ADAM look like a fucking child's play."
Jacob's fists clenched. "You expect me to just, what? Put on some magic relic and turn into a damn saviour of humanity?"
"Yes."
"I'm not your lab rat."
Kevin's lips thinned. "Then walk away. But if you want answers, if you want to know why your parents left you, why the world is ending, why you've suffered your whole goddamn life, then you'll do what needs to be done."
Silence.
Jacob's jaw worked. Every instinct screamed at him to walk away. But the image of his parents, gone in an instant, burned behind his eyes.
"Fine," he spat. "But you better not waste my time."
Three Days Later…
The lab was cold.
Jacob stood in the center, stripped to the waist, his skin prickling under the sterile lights. Around him, scientists in hazard suits monitored screens, their voices tense, their fingers hovering over controls like they were waiting for disaster.
"Vitals stable… for now."
"You should be grateful to your parents about that implant in your nape Jacob, that thing will help you survive this , kid." Kevin said.
"What was the implant for then?" Jacob asked.
"To make you better, a better human, a perversion of a human being, a Nephilim of some sort." Kevin exclaimed.
"Neural activity spiking—"
"Prep the relic."
Kevin stood at the observation window, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "Last chance to back out."
Jacob bared his teeth. "Fuck you. Do it."
A case was brought forward. Inside, resting on black velvet, was a crown, golden, woven like thorns, the points sharp enough to draw blood.
The Crown of Thorns.
Jacob's breath hitched as it was lifted, the metal gleaming under the lights, the weight of history, of myth, pressing down on him. The scientists hesitated.
"On three," one said.
They placed it on his head.
For a second, nothing.
Then fire.
Jacob's scream tore from his throat as the metal burned, searing into his skin, the thorns digging deeper, piercing flesh, bone, mind. His vision whited out. The pain was everywhere, inside him, outside him, splitting him apart.
The gold melted, liquid metal spreading over his face, his neck, his chest. It crawled across his skin like a living thing, encasing him in a cocoon of burning light. His muscles locked. His bones cracked.
Something inside him ripped.
The scientists recoiled as Jacob's body convulsed, his back arching violently. The gold shell fissured. Then…
A sound like tearing silk.
Wings burst from his back, not flesh, not feather, but something intangible, bending gravity itself. The cocoon shattered.
Jacob collapsed onto the floor, gasping, his body wracked with tremors. His skin glowed faintly, the gold now fused into his flesh like veins of light. His eyes snapped open.
Pure black. No whites. No iris. Just void.
The scientists stared in horror.
Jacob looked down at his hands, longer, sharper, inhuman.
And he started crying.
He felt wrong,
He felt no longer like himself.
Not human.
Not anymore.