Dr. Connors' eyes flickered with conflict.
On the outside, he sat motionless in his office chair, face calm and unreadable. But inside, a storm was raging.
Part of him wanted the human trial.
After all, wasn't that the purpose of all his years of research? To help mankind, to rid the world of the pain of disability?
But the other part of him knew all too well—the serum wasn't ready.
So far, only a single mouse had ever shown the results he dreamed of after being injected with the regenerative formula.
And the problem was exactly that.
It had worked—but they had no idea why.
They couldn't replicate it. They didn't even know what factor had caused success in the first place. Without understanding the why, medicine couldn't move forward.
Especially not in human testing. In medicine, a single unanswered question was enough to halt progress, because unanswered questions meant unpredictable consequences.
Emotionally, no one wanted success more than him.
Rationally, the board's order to begin human trials was nothing short of gambling with human lives—using wounded veterans as chips.
Inside him, angels and demons whispered.
The angel: If you take this step, you'll be condemning innocents. Even God won't forgive you.
The demon: All progress in medicine demands sacrifice. If it works, even if you die, angels will give you their seats in heaven.
Connors sat there until the afternoon sun sank, shadows crisscrossing his face through the blinds.
Then—ding!
His phone vibrated.
A text message.
Doctor, we're already on the way to the hospital. We believe in you.
His vision blurred. His breath quickened.
The next second, he shot to his feet. His decision was made.
The lab's cameras blinked silently, their red lights recording as the "Bio-Engineering Splicer"—the machine used to graft and merge cross-species genes—whirred to life.
Inside, a vial gleamed green.
Connors lifted it, whispering to himself:
"I may not be an angel… but I cannot be a devil."
It was the serum—a fusion of the mutant sample from that one mouse and lizard DNA.
He sat, loaded the syringe, and pressed the needle into the stump of his right arm—the arm he had lost years ago in an accident. With a sharp breath, he pushed the plunger all the way in.
The moment he withdrew the needle, the world spun violently.
Bang!
He collapsed forward onto the desk, unconscious.
Meanwhile, beneath his torn flesh, something writhed.
Something was trying to push its way out.
Not a worm.
Not quite a lizard yet… but close.
…
At that same time, Gwen was upstairs at home, laughing into her phone.
"So get this—my eight-year-old brother totally freaked out because of a lizard crawling across the floor at dinner!"
Hawk smiled faintly at the sound of her voice. "And you weren't scared?"
"Hawk." Gwen's tone grew serious. "Don't forget—the whole regeneration project is based on lizard DNA. In our lab, we've got plenty of mice and lizards. Trust me, I'm not squeamish."
She wasn't some delicate girl. She could drain a lizard's blood or dissect a mouse without batting an eye.
Hawk chuckled. "Fair enough."
Gwen laughed softly too, then switched topics. "What about you? Have you eaten?"
"Not yet," Hawk admitted, eyeing the fried chicken drumsticks he'd just brought home. "I was going to go up to the rooftop to train first, then eat afterward."
The school's old gym had been torn down to make room for a new pool. The new gym was always packed, especially at the start of term with all the freshmen. So Hawk had chosen the solitude of his rooftop instead.
Gwen tilted her head, thoughtful. "Hawk, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Why do you keep training? You're already strong enough."
She remembered vividly the waterfall in Maryland.
Hawk, bare-chested in the water.
The cascade of the falls reversing, flowing upward.
She hadn't seen it with her own eyes, but she had no doubt—it was Hawk's doing.
And she had seen him punch a bear dead with a single blow. That moment had chilled her with both awe and fear.
She knew then how lucky she had been to reach him without ever encountering a beast along the way. Maybe… maybe it had even been God's will.
And then she thought of that mysterious website—the one that had tracked Hawk's location even while his phone was off.
While Gwen was lost in those thoughts, Hawk fell silent at her question.
Why keep training?
At last he gave his answer.
"To protect myself… and the people I care about."
"Am I included in that?"
Her voice was clear, direct, echoing in his ear.
Hawk hadn't expected her to be so straightforward. But he couldn't help smiling, nodding heavily.
"Of course."
...
(End of Chapter)
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