The city was still bleeding when they left the station.
Selene moved at the front of the ragged line of survivors, silent and sure-footed. Ethan stayed at her flank. Every step he took left a faint glow on the pavement — nothing visible to the others, but he could feel it: the Core moving faster inside him, curling around his heart like a hot wire.
The whispers had changed since the fight. Before, they had been a hiss in his ear. Now they were behind his eyes, almost like thoughts he hadn't decided to have yet.
Tier… Two… awaken.
He blinked hard and focused on Selene's back. The black of her coat swallowed the flickering streetlights as she turned down an alley. The survivors shuffled after her. None of them wanted to look at Ethan.
He wanted to say something — anything — to Selene, but his tongue felt thick. The Core's hunger had become a throb at the base of his skull. He clenched his fists. His nails cut his palms and came away stained red.
They stopped under a collapsed overpass. Selene signaled for the group to rest. The survivors dropped their packs with the exhausted relief of people who had been running for too long. Ethan leaned against a cracked pillar, heart hammering. The Core's pulse matched his own.
Selene crouched nearby, reloading her pistol. Her movements were efficient, controlled. Only her eyes betrayed the tension. "You're running hot," she said quietly without looking at him.
"I'm fine."
"No," she said, sliding a clip into place. "You're not."
He looked down at his hands. Crimson light pulsed faintly along the veins, like fireflies under his skin. He flexed his fingers. "It's… changing."
Selene finally met his eyes. "How bad?"
"It's like it's—" He swallowed. "Like it's trying to get out."
Her gaze sharpened. "The Core?"
He nodded once.
Selene stood, scanning the ruins above them. "We can't stop here long." She hesitated. "Ethan… if you feel it crossing the line—if you feel it taking control—you have to tell me."
He almost laughed. "And then what?"
Her mouth tightened. "Then I do what needs to be done."
For a moment, neither spoke. The survivors murmured softly to each other at the edge of the overpass, their voices a low tide. A stray dog padded past and vanished into the shadows.
The Core whispered again, louder now: Predator. Tier Two. Emerge.
He staggered, grabbing the pillar. Heat flooded his body, molten and electric. His vision flared red around the edges.
Selene was at his side instantly. "Ethan!"
"I—" His knees hit the cracked concrete. The Core roared in his chest. His skin burned as if a second heartbeat had torn loose inside him.
"Breathe," Selene snapped, gripping his shoulder. "Stay with me. Don't let it—"
Too late. The Core erupted.
A jagged crimson glow burst from Ethan's veins, flooding his body with light. He doubled over with a sound halfway between a gasp and a scream. The ground around him cracked in a spiderweb pattern.
The survivors cried out, stumbling back. Selene drew her blade but didn't raise it yet. Her eyes were wide, calculating.
Inside Ethan's head, images flashed — blood skies, endless hunts, a throne of bone slick with crimson. The Core's voice was no longer a whisper. It was a chorus.
Tier Two unlocked. Predator Ascendant.
His body convulsed. He felt his muscles stretch, his senses sharpen. Every heartbeat sent a rush of power to his limbs, like being filled with lightning. He could smell everything — the oil on Selene's gun, the salt of her skin, the copper in the survivors' blood.
He looked up at her. "Selene…" His voice was a rasp, not quite his own.
She didn't move. "Ethan. Listen to me. You're stronger now, but you're still you. Hold on to that."
He reached out as if to steady himself on her arm. Crimson sparks danced along his fingers. She held her ground, but he saw her shift her weight — ready to strike if she had to.
Another surge hit him. This one dropped him to one knee. The light pouring off his skin grew blinding, staining the underpass walls in shades of scarlet.
Selene hissed a curse and crouched in front of him, knife low at her side. "Ethan! Focus on my voice."
He tried. He really tried. But the Core was a storm now, and he was only debris inside it. Hunger, power, and a promise: No more prey. Only dominion.
His eyes snapped open. For an instant he saw her not as Selene but as prey, as fuel. He clenched his fists, nails breaking skin.
Selene saw the flicker. Her blade came up, tip poised at his throat — not pressing, just there, a warning. "Come back," she said softly.
He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't… want… to hurt you…"
The Core laughed inside him, a sound like a thousand wings. Then don't fight. Ascend.
And then everything went white.
Crimson light exploded outward from Ethan's body, a shockwave that sent dust and debris cascading from the overpass ceiling. The survivors screamed and covered their faces. Selene was thrown back a step but kept her blade steady.
When the light dimmed, Ethan was on his knees, trembling, steam rising off his skin. Around him, the concrete was etched with new patterns — sigils like the ones on the hunters' masks, glowing faintly before fading.
He lifted his head. His eyes were no longer just human brown. They burned with a faint red ring.
Selene's blade hovered an inch from his throat. "Tell me you're still in there," she whispered.
He opened his mouth, but only a low growl came out. He clutched his chest, doubled over again.
The Core spoke one final phrase inside him, colder than before: Tier Two complete. Price pending.
And then he collapsed, the crimson light spilling from his veins like liquid fire.
Selene caught him before his head hit the ground. He was burning hot to the touch, but his pulse fluttered weakly under her fingers.
She looked at the survivors — pale, wide-eyed, holding each other. Then she looked back at Ethan.
"Damn you," she murmured, not sure if she meant the Core or the man. She tightened her grip on him, eyes scanning the ruined city.
Because even over the ringing in her ears, she could hear something moving out there in the dark — more hunters, drawn by the light.
Selene slung Ethan's arm over her shoulders. "You're not dying on me," she said under her breath. "Not yet."
They stumbled out from under the overpass, into the pre-dawn wind. Behind them, the sigils on the ground pulsed once and went dark, leaving only the smell of ozone and blood.
Above the city, the sky cracked open with a dull thunder, and for a heartbeat Selene swore she saw crimson lightning fork across the horizon.
Whatever had just happened to Ethan wasn't just evolution.
It was an invitation.
And something out there had answered.
Selene's boots splashed through puddles of rust-red water as she half-dragged, half-carried Ethan down the slope of the overpass. He was heavy but unnaturally warm, like carrying a furnace wrapped in damp skin. The pre-dawn wind knifed across her cheeks and tugged at the hem of her coat, but she didn't slow. Behind them the survivors were scrambling to their feet, voices high and panicked.
"Move!" Selene barked without looking back. "We can't stay here."
They obeyed. No one wanted to be near the man who had just exploded with light.
Ethan's head lolled against her shoulder. His eyes were shut now, but a faint red glow still leaked through his lashes with every sluggish heartbeat. Each pulse carried a static prickle through Selene's arm, like touching live wire. She grit her teeth and adjusted her grip.
Above them, the cracked sky shuddered again. A ripple of crimson lightning spider-webbed across the clouds and hung there, unnatural, before fading. The air tasted metallic. Even the wind had stopped; the whole city felt as if it were holding its breath.
Selene risked a glance back.
The sigils etched into the concrete underpass were no longer glowing, but the darkness around them had deepened. Shapes moved at the edges—shapes that didn't match the broken geometry of rubble. She saw the flash of a hunter's mask, then another. More of them, dozens, maybe more, closing in like a tide.
"Faster," she hissed to the survivors. "Stay low. Follow the rails."
They stumbled into a service tunnel choked with debris. Pipes rattled overhead as if something large was crawling inside them. The further they went, the hotter the air became, and the more Ethan's weight seemed to grow.
"Stay with me," Selene murmured into his ear. "You're still in there. You hear me? You're still in there."
For a heartbeat she thought she felt him stir—his fingers twitched against her back—but then the glow under his skin brightened again, rippling up his neck like veins of molten ore.
"Selene…" It was barely a whisper, cracked and wrong, but it was his voice. "…hungry…"
Her stomach clenched. "We'll feed you. Just—don't give in. Not now."
A noise behind them—metal shrieking against metal. Selene spun, drawing her blade. One of the survivors screamed as a hunter dropped from the tunnel ceiling like a spider, its mask flickering with shifting sigils.
Selene didn't hesitate. She slashed upward, carving through the creature's throat. Black ichor hissed across the floor. "Run!" she snapped. "Go!"
The group bolted ahead. Selene backed after them, dragging Ethan with one arm, knife in the other. More hunters poured from the shadows, drawn by the scent of blood and the lingering glow from Ethan's transformation.
Ethan's eyes snapped open again. This time the red ring blazed brighter, a predator's gaze. "Selene…" His voice had layers now, as if the Core was speaking with him. "…let me… go…"
She shook her head fiercely. "Not happening."
He growled, low and animal, but the sound broke off in a gasp. His body convulsed, and for an instant the crimson glow flared around his chest like a second heartbeat struggling to burst free.
The hunters shrieked and slowed, circling them instead of attacking. They were waiting for something.
Selene realized with a jolt of cold dread—they weren't here for her. They were here for him.
The tunnel opened into a cavern of collapsed subway lines. Water dripped from the ceiling in long, slow drops. In the center of the space stood a warped archway of stone, black and pulsing faintly with the same crimson light as Ethan's veins.
Selene stopped dead. She had never seen it before, but every instinct screamed danger. The archway hummed like a living throat about to speak.
Ethan's head snapped up. His pupils dilated to pinpricks, red halo burning bright. "It's calling," he rasped.
"What is?" Selene demanded, but she already knew. The Core. The archway. Both.
He took a step toward it without her support. "I… have to…"
"No." She grabbed his arm. "You don't even know what's on the other side."
He turned his head, and for the first time his expression was utterly alien—half hunger, half reverence. "I do."
Behind them, the hunters began to chant. It wasn't sound so much as a vibration in the air, a low pulse matching Ethan's heartbeat. The archway's glow brightened.
Selene tightened her grip. "Ethan, fight it."
He shuddered. "I'm… trying…"
The archway flared like a wound tearing open. A gust of hot air rolled out, smelling of rust and storms. Shapes shifted beyond it—something vast moving just out of sight.
Selene raised her blade, heart hammering. "Then try harder."
Ethan turned back to her. For a moment, his eyes softened, the red dimming. "If I don't come back…"
"You will," she snapped.
He smiled faintly. "Then hold on."
And before she could stop him, the crimson light swallowed him whole. The Core surged, and Ethan stepped—or was pulled—through the archway.
Selene lunged after him, but the hunters moved at once, blocking her path. Their masks flashed with the same sigils that had burned into the concrete earlier. The tunnel thundered as the archway's glow intensified to blinding white-red.
"Ethan!" she screamed.
The last thing she saw was his silhouette dissolving into the light, his head tilted back as if in a silent roar.
Then the archway slammed shut like a door, the crimson glow vanishing, leaving only the stink of ozone and blood.
Selene stumbled, knife clattering against the floor. The hunters froze, then slowly turned their masks toward her.
Whatever had been on the other side had taken Ethan.
And now, she realized with a chill, it was looking at her.