The sky above Sector Nine was the color of old iron. Thin strands of crimson rain drifted down like spider silk, hissing when they struck metal. Ethan's boots splashed through puddles that steamed faintly, the smell of rust and ozone heavy in the air.
They'd been walking for hours. The cityscape had changed—taller ruins, sharper shadows, no sound but their breathing. Ethan adjusted the strap of the scavenged rifle across his back and glanced at Selene ahead of him. She moved like water through the rubble, silent, deliberate, never once looking back to see if he was keeping up.
The Core hummed under his skin, a restless vibration that matched the rhythm of his heartbeat. It had been quiet since last night, but now, with each step deeper into Sector Nine, it began to stir. Hunger uncoiled in his stomach like a living thing.
You're going to need me, it whispered, not in words but in pressure, in pulses behind his eyes.
He clenched his jaw. Not yet.
Selene raised a gloved hand, signaling a stop. They crouched behind the collapsed skeleton of a freeway ramp. Her eyes flicked to his, cold and steady. "It's close," she murmured.
"What is?" Ethan whispered back.
"You'll see."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small drone — a battered black sphere with blinking blue lights. She tossed it into the air; it whirred silently, rising until it disappeared over the ramp. A moment later her wrist console flickered to life, projecting a ghostly grid.
The image on the grid made Ethan's stomach tighten. Something moved in the streets ahead. Not a person. Not even a mutant like he'd fought before. This was bigger. The size of a van, hunched, its outline jagged with spines. It crawled over wreckage on too many limbs, dragging a tail studded with bone-like hooks.
"What the hell is that?" Ethan breathed.
"Crimson Beast," Selene said. "First generation. They don't usually come this far out."
"It's… feeding?"
On the grid, the creature lowered its head to a mound of something — corpses, or what was left of them. Ethan looked away. His hunger spiked, sharp and electric. The Core loved the smell of blood even through the screen.
Selene shut the console off. "We go around," she said. "We're not equipped for that."
The Core pulsed. Equipped? it seemed to sneer. You have me.
Ethan swallowed hard. "What if it sees us?"
"Then you run."
"What about you?"
She gave a small, humorless smile. "I don't run."
Before he could answer, the drone feed cut abruptly. A low, seismic thud vibrated through the concrete under them. Then another. The air shifted.
"It's moving," Selene hissed.
They scrambled to their feet, keeping low, weaving between chunks of rubble. Ethan could feel it now — a pressure in the air, a smell like scorched copper. He risked a glance over his shoulder.
The beast was there.
It burst from the intersection in a spray of dust, claws shredding pavement like wet paper. Its head was a twisted mockery of a wolf's skull, eyes glowing with a dull crimson light. When it opened its jaws, the sound wasn't a roar but a chorus of screams.
Ethan froze. Every instinct told him to run. The Core surged, exultant.
Selene grabbed his arm, yanking him forward. "Move!"
They ran. The beast came after them, faster than anything that size had a right to be. It bounded onto the freeway ramp, its claws clanging like steel on steel.
"This way!" Selene darted into a collapsed subway entrance. Ethan followed, stumbling down the cracked stairs. The darkness swallowed them.
They reached a platform half-buried in debris. Selene spun, raising her rifle. "It's not going to stop," she said.
Ethan's breath came in ragged gasps. "Then what—"
The ceiling above them exploded. The beast crashed through in a shower of concrete and sparks. Its spined tail lashed, slicing a metal bench in two.
Selene fired. Blue-white rounds burst against the beast's hide, but it barely flinched. It lunged. She dove aside, rolling, her coat whipping out like wings.
Ethan felt the Core surge in him, burning, eager. Use me.
He dropped to one knee, grabbing a length of rebar from the ground. "Keep it busy!" he shouted.
Selene didn't question him. She unloaded round after round into the beast's eyes, drawing its attention. It swung toward her, jaws snapping inches from her shoulder.
Ethan's vision went red. He lunged forward, faster than he should have been able to move, the rebar like a spear in his hands. He drove it into the beast's flank with a roar.
The Core sang inside him, spilling power through his muscles. For a heartbeat he felt invincible. The beast shrieked, twisting. Its tail whipped around and caught him across the chest. Pain flared. He flew backward, slamming into a wall.
The hunger flared higher than the pain. He tasted blood — his, the beast's, Selene's — all blending into a metallic sweetness. The Core whispered: Take it. Feed. Become more.
He staggered to his feet. Selene was pinned under a slab of debris, struggling. The beast loomed over her.
"Ethan!" she gasped.
He felt himself moving before he decided to. His hands glowed faintly crimson, claws of light forming over his fingers. The Core roared with joy.
He slammed into the beast's side, ripping at its hide. His claws tore through spines and sinew like paper. Blood sprayed, hot and steaming. He didn't care. He was a storm.
The beast howled, thrashing. Ethan drove his claws deeper, reaching for something inside it — not just flesh but the pulse of its own corrupted Core. He felt it. He crushed it.
A shockwave blasted outward. The beast convulsed, then collapsed, dissolving into a pool of dark crimson that steamed and hissed.
Ethan fell to his knees, shaking. His hands still glowed. His breath came in harsh, animal gasps. The hunger was a hurricane now.
Selene crawled free of the debris, bleeding from a cut on her forehead. She stared at him, eyes wide. "Ethan," she said softly. "Stop."
He looked at her. The glow on his hands flickered. Her scent hit him — blood, sweat, life. His throat tightened. He wanted to…
No.
He slammed his fists into the ground, forcing the Core back. The glow died. He sagged forward, trembling.
Selene knelt beside him, one hand hovering just above his shoulder, not quite touching. "You're still in there," she murmured.
He closed his eyes. "For now."
For a moment they stayed like that, the silence broken only by the hiss of evaporating beast blood. The Core was quiet again, but it wasn't gone. It was watching, waiting.
Selene finally stood, offering him a hand. He took it, his grip shaking.
"That," she said, looking at the smear where the beast had been, "was your first real test."
"Did I pass?" His voice was raw.
Her eyes met his. "Barely."
But there was something in her gaze now — not just calculation. Something warmer. Something dangerous.
Ethan wiped blood from his face. "What now?"
She glanced up at the jagged hole in the ceiling. Dawn light filtered through the dust. "Now," she said, "we keep moving. Sector Nine isn't finished with us yet."
He followed her up the broken stairs, every muscle aching, the Core a low thrum in his veins. The hunger would return. The battles would get worse. But he'd survived the first one.
And for the first time since the Crimson System fused with his blood, Ethan felt a spark of something he hadn't felt in months.
Hope.
The stairwell back to street level felt twice as long as it had on the way down. Every step Ethan took sent a dull ache through his ribs. The Core had dulled the pain during the fight, but now the adrenaline was bleeding out of him, leaving only the raw tremor of exhaustion.
Above them, the sky was still an endless churn of iron and blood. Thin mist clung to the jagged edges of ruined towers. Somewhere far off, a siren wailed and then cut off abruptly, swallowed by silence.
Selene walked a pace ahead, her coat dragging a faint smear of dust and blood along the cracked stairs. She didn't speak, and he couldn't tell if it was because she was angry, or afraid, or simply calculating.
At the top, she paused, scanning the street with sharp, deliberate movements before stepping out. The drone was gone. Their path forward was empty.
Ethan leaned against a scorched streetlight, breathing hard. His hands had stopped glowing, but faint red cracks still crawled up his forearms like veins of fire under his skin. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to make them disappear.
Selene turned to him. "You're bleeding," she said.
He gave a dry laugh. "So are you."
She touched the cut at her temple and wiped her fingers on her coat without looking at him. "You lost control down there."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "I killed the thing, didn't I?"
"That's not the point." Her eyes narrowed, but her voice stayed quiet. "The Core is using you. The more you feed it, the harder it gets to come back."
"I know."
"Do you?" She stepped closer. The faint metallic smell of her blood reached him, and he felt his throat tighten again. "Because from where I was pinned, you didn't look like you were about to stop."
He looked away. The city blurred for a moment; he blinked until it steadied. "I could feel it," he murmured. "Inside me. Not just power — a will. Like it wanted the beast, wanted me to—" He broke off, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. "I almost did it. I almost lost myself."
Selene said nothing for a moment. Then, to his surprise, her tone softened. "But you didn't."
He let out a bitter laugh. "For now."
She reached out, hesitated, then rested a gloved hand on his shoulder. "That's all any of us have. For now."
He looked up at her. There was something unguarded in her face for just a heartbeat — not pity, but recognition. Like she knew exactly what it felt like to be on the edge of losing yourself. Then it was gone, shuttered behind her usual mask.
"We can't stay here," she said, stepping back. "The noise will draw more."
He pushed off the streetlight, straightening despite the pain. "Where are we going?"
"There's a safehouse a few blocks east. We'll hole up there, regroup."
As they moved through the ruins, Ethan became aware of something new. The Core wasn't just quiet; it was… full. Like it had eaten something heavy. Each step he took felt different — lighter, stronger, as if his muscles had been rewoven with threads of steel. His vision kept sharpening without his willing it, edges of debris etched like glass, the faint vibrations of distant movement echoing in his bones.
It scared him more than it thrilled him.
At one point, Selene glanced back and caught him flexing his fingers as if they belonged to someone else. Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing.
They reached the safehouse — a half-collapsed building whose lower floors had been reinforced with scavenged steel plates. Inside, the air smelled faintly of oil and damp. A single lantern burned on a crate.
Selene tossed her coat over a chair and began checking her weapons with the detached precision of habit. Ethan sat on an overturned drum, pressing his palms to his knees to still the tremor in them.
"Here." Selene tossed him a canteen.
He caught it, unscrewed the cap, and drank. The water tasted of metal. It did nothing for the hunger curling low in his stomach.
"Get some rest," she said. "We'll need to move again before dusk."
"What about you?"
"I'll keep watch."
He stared at her for a moment. She was standing by the window, backlit by the dull red light filtering through the cracks in the boards. For the first time since he'd met her, she looked tired. Not weak — just… tired.
"You've fought one of those things before," he said quietly.
Her shoulders stiffened. "Yes."
"Lost someone?"
She didn't answer.
He looked down at his glowing veins, the faint crimson flicker still pulsing under his skin. "You were right," he said. "I did lose control."
She turned back to him. "Then don't lose it next time."
"I don't know if I can."
"Learn."
The word was simple, but it landed like a challenge. He held her gaze. For a heartbeat the silence stretched between them, charged with something neither of them was ready to name.
Then Selene looked away, picking up her rifle again. "Sleep, Ethan. You're going to need it."
He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. The Core shifted inside him like a sleeping predator. He didn't know if it was his ally, his curse, or both. But one thing was certain: the fight in the subway had only been the beginning.
As the lantern's flame flickered and Selene's silhouette blurred against the window, he felt the new power thrumming quietly under his skin.
Stronger. Faster. Hungrier.
And in the distance, somewhere in the maze of the ruined city, something else stirred — answering the echo of his kill.