"Mr. Fenris, we've released Tenth Project 312. They're ready for the game," a scientist said, his grin wide and nervous as he faced Fenris, who paced slowly across the lab floor.
"Good," Fenris replied, voice low but firm. "312 will be sent to the schools. And 22… retrieve them for the human trade division. Make sure their memories are cleared properly. I want them working for us without hesitation."
"Yes, sir. The 312 batch has been upgraded—full enhancement. Their abilities now surpass normal human limits. We also made sure to improve the twins and Arion beyond the rest."
"Excellent." Fenris's eyes gleamed. "Did you use the Ecliptic Blood in the twins?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. As for Arion, I'll personally inject the final Crimson Vitae—along with a super blood strain. Together, they'll create the ultimate form. When it's done, no one will stand in our way."
He turned slightly, his tone darkening. "The twins' mission begins tomorrow."
The scientists nodded in unison, their faces pale under the sterile light. Without another word, they turned and left the room.
Fenris stood still for a moment, watching the mist from the cooling chambers rise and twist around the dim red lights. A faint smile crossed his face.
---
Kaelith skidded to a stop behind his house, his breath ragged, heart pounding so hard it hurt. The world seemed to tilt as his eyes fell on the sight before him.
His mother lay motionless on the ground. Blood spread beneath her like a dark mirror.
"No… no, no, no—"
His voice broke and fell to his knees, the dirt cold beneath him.
Tears burned his eyes as he lifted Veyra's head and placed it gently on his lap. Her face was pale, peaceful in a way that tore him apart.
"Mom…" His voice cracked, trembling. "Mom!"
The word echoed into the emptiness.
His chest tightened until he could barely breathe. A storm built inside him a grief, rage, and disbelief all burning together.
"I swear…" His hands shook as he stared at the blood on his palms. "I'll make them pay."
His voice grew louder, sharper carried by the wind.
"They'll all pay!"
Eryndor moved closer, his old boots pressing softly against the wet earth. The sky had turned a bruised gray, heavy with storm. He lowered himself slightly and placed a weathered hand on Kaelith's trembling shoulder. The boy didn't move. His entire body was frozen in grief.
Then the rain began to fall not a drizzle, but a sudden cold downpour that soaked everything in seconds. The world seemed to mourn with him. Each drop hit the ground like the echo of his breaking heart.
Kaelith stayed on his knees beside his mother's body, his eyes empty, his lips trembling as he whispered words that vanished in the rain. His tears mixed with the blood around her, his breath coming in shallow, broken gasps.
"Mom…" His voice was almost gone. "Please… please wake up…"
No answer only rain.
He gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the mud, the grief inside him twisting into something darker.
"I swear… I'll make them pay," he murmured, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the storm. "Every single one of them will pay for this."
A sudden heat spread through his chest. His vision blurred, his heartbeat thundered. The pain was overwhelming not just in his body, but in his soul. His veins began to rise beneath his skin, glowing faintly with a sickly crimson hue that pulsed in rhythm with his heart.
Eryndor took a step back, watching with a mix of sorrow and recognition. He had seen this before– the blooming.
---
In this world, every super blood carries a pulse, a silent rhythm that sleeps within its bearer. But it doesn't awaken easily. It waits for the edge that fragile border between life and death, between despair and fury. When the heart finally shatters, when emotion drowns logic, the blood begins to stir.
The pulse quickens. The body trembles. The world itself seems to hold its breath, then it blooms.
To bloom is not to gain power — it is to be remade by it. Anger might burn into crimson fire. Sorrow may become a still, and icy calm. Determination can forge into a blade of unstoppable force. The blood mirrors the soul, not the mask one wears.
But blooming always demands a price. A memory. A feeling. A fragment of what made you human.
The old ones used to whisper:
"To bloom is to be reborn — but never as the same person."
---
Kaelith's eyes snapped open, one gleaming blue, the other blazing gold. The glow cut through the rain like twin stars. The ground beneath him trembled, the air warping faintly with power.
That's when he heard footsteps and voices. The faint click of a weapon being readied. Fenris's guards.
Eryndor turned, but before he could react, a gunshot cracked through the storm. The bullet tore into his back, he stumbled, falling to one knee.
Kaelith didn't even flinch. His body was shaking, but not from fear. Something else had taken over — something deeper than instinct.
"Hey!" one of the guards shouted, his voice cutting through the rain. "Step away from the body!"
No response. Kaelith's gaze stayed locked on the ground, his bangs covering his glowing eyes.
Another guard cursed. "I said move, damn it!"
They advanced.
Kaelith's heartbeat slowed. Every sound sharpened — the rush of the rain, the creak of leather gloves, the faint metallic rattle of a trigger finger trembling. His senses, once human, now surged beyond reason.
The nearest guard lunged forward.
Kaelith's fist moved before thought. He didn't even look. The punch connected with a sickening crack, bones snapping under the force. The man's leg twisted at an impossible angle as he flew backward, slamming into the dirt with a heavy thud.
The others froze.
"What the hell—?"
Kaelith slowly rose to his feet. His white hair clung to his face, streaks of red running down his cheek from the rain and blood. The glow in his eyes burned brighter, reflecting the storm like molten glass.
"You shouldn't have come here," he said, his voice calm but hollow, stripped of warmth.
The guards hesitated for half a second too long. That was all it took.
Kaelith moved — fast enough that their eyes couldn't follow. The air cracked where he'd been standing. A scream echoed from the left, another from behind. By the time the rain hit the ground again, two of them were already down.
The others tried to fire, but the bullets barely found air. Kaelith was everywhere — his movements blurred, his strikes precise, every impact echoing through the storm.
When it ended, the clearing was silent again. Bodies lay scattered, motionless. Steam rose from the ground where rain met blood.
Kaelith stood in the middle of it all, breathing hard. His glowing eyes dimmed, fading back into mismatched color. The veins beneath his skin retreated, leaving him pale and shaking.
He looked down at his hands, the tremor in them betraying what his face tried to hide.
"…what… have I become?" he whispered.
The rain answered him with silence.