Soren made it back to his dorm before his legs gave out.
Jake was gone. Probably at the dual heart recovery center. The room felt too quiet.
He sat on his bed and stared at his hands and checked his whole body.
They looked normal. Felt normal.
And again he heard the same voice again.
**[Would you like to view your status?]**
The voice in his head was patient. Calm. Like it had been waiting centuries and could wait longer. But repeating itself constantly after some time.
"Yes," he whispered.
Text appeared in his vision. Not on a screen or hologram . *In* his vision.
**[BEETLE GOD SYSTEM]**
**Host:** Soren Cross
**Status:** Alive (surprising, really)
**Current Integration:**
Tiger Beetle DNA: 10%
**Abilities Unlocked:**
- Enhanced Perception (Passive)
- Speed Burst (Active - 3 seconds max)
**Next Milestone:** 40% integration unlocks second beetle training method
**Training Recommendation:** Start with reaction drills. Your brain's fast. Your body needs to catch up.
Soren blinked. The text faded.
"You're sarcastic," he said to the empty room.
[I've been dormant for millennia. I'm allowed personality.]
"Fair."
[Your neural processing is fifty percent faster than baseline. But your muscles haven't adapted yet. If you try to move at full speed right now, you'll tear ligaments.]
"So what do I do?"
*[Train. Sleep. Eat. Your body needs to rebuild.]*
Made sense.
He tried to stand but his legs wobbled.
*[You almost died an hour ago. Sit down.]*
"I agree."
He sat on his bed.
Someone knocked his door.
"It's open," he called.
Lyra stepped inside. She moved quiet, like always. Her amber eyes scanned him head to toe.
"You're alive, didn't expect that ," she said while smiling mockingly.
"Barely."
She pulled Jake's chair over and sat backwards on it, arms folded over the backrest. "Heard you crashed during integration. Dr. Voss told her assistant you shouldn't have survived."
"Yeah, well. Here I am. Alive."
"Here you are." Her eyes narrowed. "You feel any different."
He tensed. Could she sense the system?
"Different how?"
"Sharper." She tilted her head. "Like you're processing everything faster than you should be at ten percent."
Ten percent. So word had spread about his integration level.
"Maybe I'm just lucky," he said.
"Luck doesn't save you from neural collapse." She leaned forward. "What happened in there?"
He met her gaze. Her pupils were slightly vertical. Cat-like. The black panther DNA already showing through.
"I don't know," he lied. "Everything went wrong. Then it went right. Dr. Voss seemed confused too. I don't know really."
Lyra watched him for a long moment. Like inspecting something, she even sniffed sometimes.
"You're lying," she said. "But that's fine. Everyone's got secrets."
She stood and moved to the door.
"Lyra."
She paused.
"Thanks for checking on me."
Her smile was Genuine. "Don't die, beetle boy. It'd be boring without you."
The door closed behind her.
[She suspected something.]
"I know."
[Be careful. Enhanced humans can sense changes in others. Especially predator DNA users.]
"Noted."
He lay back on his bed. His body ached in places he didn't have names for.
Sleep pulled at him like gravity.
He let it win.
He woke after hours to the darkness and voices outside his window.
Students laughing. Someone playing music. The campus settling into evening routines.
His terminal blinked. Unread messages waiting.
He pulled up the screen.
From: Mom
*Soren, your father and I heard about your integration. Please call when you can.*
From: Dad
*Son. Call your mother. She's worried.*
From: Jake
*You alive? If yes, meet me at the cafeteria. If no, haunt someone else.*
He smiled despite the ache and called home.
His mom's face filled the screen. Brown hair pulled back. Worry lines around her eyes.
"Soren." Her voice cracked. "Oh thank god."
"I'm okay, Mom."
"They said you almost died. The university sent an automated notice about a critical incident during your integration."
His dad's face appeared beside hers. Graying hair. Solid jaw. Eyes that looked tired.
"We tried to call earlier," Dad said. "You were unconscious."
"Sorry. It was... rough."
"Rough?" Mom's hands twisted together. "Soren, they said insects DNA has a high percent fatality rate."
"I know."
"And you did it anyway and succeeded in it."
He nodded.
His parents stared at him through the screen. Mom's eyes were wet. Dad's jaw was tight.
Then Dad smiled. Small. Proud.
"You stubborn idiot," Dad said. "You actually did it."
Mom wiped her eyes. "We should be furious with you."
"But you're not?"
"Oh, we are," she said. "But we're also..." She looked at his dad.
"Proud," Dad finished. "Terrified. Angry. But mostly proud."
Soren's chest tightened.
"You chose something impossible," Dad continued. "Everyone told you it couldn't be done. You survived anyway." He leaned closer to the camera. "That takes guts, son. Stupid guts. But guts."
"Your grandmother would've loved this," Mom said, laughing through tears. "She always said you were too stubborn to die normal."
"How's the integration feel?" Dad asked.
"Everything's slower. Or I'm faster. Still figuring it out. It will take sometime but I will get used to it."
"Ten percent is exceptional for insect DNA," Dad said. "Most don't make it past five."
"How'd you know it's ten percent?"
"Dr. Voss sent a report to your emergency contacts. She said you're a medical anomaly." Dad's expression turned serious. "She also said you'll need close monitoring. Any signs of neural degradation, you come home immediately."
"I will."
"Promise me," Mom said.
"I promise."
They talked for another ten minutes. Small things. Campus food. Jake's dual heart integration. His mom's garden. His dad's work.
Normal things.
Safe things.
When they finally hung up, Soren sat in the dark and breathed.
His parents were proud.
Terrified, angry, worried.
But proud.
That was enough.
[You have good parents.]
"Yeah."
[They'll worry more as you get stronger.]
"I know."
[Are you ready for that?]
Soren thought about the system in his head. The path ahead that nobody else had walked.
"No," he said honestly. "But I'm doing it anyway."
[That's the spirit.]
He pulled on shoes and headed for the cafeteria.
Jake was waiting.
And tomorrow, the real training would begin.