The afternoon sun poured through the windows of the school gymnasium, warming the grass-strewn field as Cliff carried the football team to victory. Every dodge, every pass, every sprint seemed effortless, almost surreal, his body moving with a precision that even he could barely comprehend. The crowd erupted as the final goal was scored, cheering wildly, their voices ringing like a distant storm through his head. His teammates lifted him onto their shoulders, patting him on the back with smiles of awe and gratitude. For a fleeting moment, Cliff allowed himself to feel normal.
For a brief span of hours, there was no blood, no shadows, no whispered threats from the people who had transformed his life into a waking nightmare. Just laughter, sunlight, and the warmth of camaraderie. It felt foreign and comforting, like stepping into a world that didn't exist in his reality.
Yet, beneath that exhilaration, a faint hum pulsed through his arm—a subtle reminder that the fight had only just begun. The modified DNA inside him continued to adapt, feeding his body with power, but leaving cracks of unease. He pushed the thought aside, chasing the brief relief of victory.
School the next day was a blur. Faces, laughter, the constant buzz of chatter—it all collided in Cliff's heightened perception. Every whisper seemed amplified, every movement exaggerated. Valvet, sitting two desks away, caught his gaze repeatedly. There was worry etched across her delicate features, subtle yet persistent, as if she sensed the storm brewing within him.
During lunch, beneath the gnarled branches of the oak tree behind the school, she finally spoke.
"Cliff," she said softly, voice trembling just enough to betray concern, "you haven't been yourself. Are you… hiding something?"
Cliff forced a smile, masking the turmoil roiling inside him. "Just tired from the game," he muttered. "You know how it is."
Valvet's eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. "It's more than that. You're… different. Smarter, faster. I can tell. What's going on with you?"
Cliff's pulse quickened. How could he tell her about the secret missions, the brutal training, the lifeless experiments he was forced to hunt? How could he expose the growing darkness without scaring her away?
Before he could respond, his encrypted phone buzzed violently. The message was simple, cold, and unyielding: Report to base. Urgent.
Swallowing hard, Cliff slipped away, leaving behind confused friends and a trail of unanswered questions. The shadows of the city seemed deeper than usual as he navigated alleyways and backstreets, heart hammering. A black car waited, shrouded in the dim light, its engine silent but menacing. Inside, Agent Soren gave him a nod.
"More than one failed experiment tonight," Soren said, tossing a slim metallic device to Cliff. "Recon mission. Locate and report. Engage only if attacked. The device tracks DNA signatures. Green is safe. Red means danger. Stay sharp."
Cliff gripped the device, the cold metal grounding him amidst the storm in his mind.
The industrial district loomed ahead, abandoned factories rising like jagged teeth against the dark sky. Rusted beams groaned under the weight of decades, and the air smelled of metal and decay. Every step made the hairs on his neck bristle.
The device beeped once, then twice, shifting from green to a deep red.
From the shadows, the creature emerged. A patchwork of twisted flesh, glowing veins, and eyes burning with unnatural light. The failed experiment, a relic of humanity warped beyond recognition, moved with unnatural precision.
Instinct overrode thought. Cliff rolled under a rusted beam as the creature lunged, claws slashing mere inches from his face. A surge of white-hot energy coursed through his arm, pulsing like living lightning. His body moved before he could command it, a blur of motion.
Fist met flesh. The creature screamed, a sound that rattled the hollow halls and echoed in Cliff's ears. Part of its face shattered, but it continued to lunge, relentless. Two more creatures appeared, faster, snarling, their bodies twisted in grotesque shapes.
"Retreat!" hissed a voice in his earpiece. "Don't engage all at once!"
Cliff twisted, dodging claws that cut through metal supports. One snagged his leg, burning cold as sharp pain tore through him. Blood—thick and luminescent—oozed from the wound, a grotesque reminder of the stakes. Clutching a chunk of tissue, he felt the surge of DNA power as the agents demanded.
With a grimace, he escaped back to the car. Serums and modified DNA injections awaited him. The pain flared, memories and hallucinations merging into a haze. He drifted in and out of consciousness, trapped between the human world and something inhuman.
When he awoke, the senses were sharper, more precise. Night vision, hyper-hearing, and an intuition that allowed him to perceive movements even through walls.
"You're adapting faster than anyone we've seen," Soren remarked with a smirk. "You're a weapon."
"Or a prisoner," Cliff muttered coldly.
Back home, his parents gasped at the bruises and bandages.
"Bike accident," he lied smoothly. "Just scraped up."
His mother's hug nearly broke him. He wanted to confess everything—the agents, the experiments, the powers—but fear chained his tongue.
The day passed in a haze of schoolwork and fleeting normalcy, the weight of secrecy pressing down. Valvet's concern grew, culminating in a quiet confrontation after class.
"Cliff, please," she pleaded. "You don't have to face this alone. I'm here, whenever you want to talk."
He wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust. But the shadows of the agents loomed too large.
That night, the encrypted phone buzzed again. Next mission: immediate deployment.
---
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, highlighting the fatigue etched into Cliff's features. After school, he returned early, only to find the scientists waiting. The room was cold and sterile, chairs arranged like instruments of judgment. Cliff froze as his eyes landed on a boy chained exactly as he had been—face pale, eyes wide.
"Who are you?" Cliff asked cautiously.
"Clad," the boy replied, voice trembling. "I—I don't know where I am. Why am I here?"
Cliff's chest tightened. He saw himself reflected in the fear and confusion of Clad. Slowly, he explained everything—from the DNA modifications to the consequences of refusal, from the brutal missions to the stakes for humanity and themselves.
"I'm in the same position as you," Cliff concluded. "They pay well. And… I'm lonely doing this alone. Join me. We'll face it together."
After tense moments, Clad nodded. Together, they prepared to leave, but the scientists halted them.
"We've captured more than 250 failed experiments on an island," one said coldly. "Three of you will go. We are continuing experiments to find the third."
The weight of death, the enormity of the mission, pressed down, but beneath it flickered a strange excitement—more power, more potential allies.
The location revealed was an abandoned complex on a remote island. As Cliff and Clad approached, small, bullet-like droplets shot from the shadows. Cliff narrowly dodged, feeling a searing pain as one grazed his shoulder.
The failed experiment appeared: blood shot like spears and bullets, a grotesque display of violence in motion.
"Clad," Cliff hissed. "Distract him. I'll use everything I've got."
Clad moved, relying on his super speed, dodging and weaving, baiting the creature as Cliff prepared his final strike. With a single blow, 45% of the experiment's body was obliterated. But the blood that leaked reacted violently, forming a swarm of faster, sharper projectiles. Injury followed injury, but Cliff's focus never wavered.
"Now, Clad!" Cliff shouted. Using every ounce of strength, he delivered the final punch. The impact tore through the floor, destroying an 8-meter radius with a deafening roar.
They woke up in the base hours later, scientists confirming the implantation of the blood-shot ability in both of them. Rewards were transferred—¥38,000 for each. Cliff's mind whirred with exhaustion, satisfaction, and an unshakeable unease.
As he walked home, shadows of the city whispered with unknown secrets. Through a hotel window, Cliff caught sight of Valvet and another boy. Heart sinking, he froze, unsure of what he'd seen, but the sting of jealousy and fear gnawed at him.
The chapter ended there, a cliffhanger of emotion, power, and uncertainty, leaving the night alive with questions that only time—and the next mission—would answer.