The Lucky Star limped toward the nearest waystation—a forgotten outpost called Rust Haven that sat three hours away if his engines didn't give out first.
Jin hadn't moved from the pilot's chair. Couldn't. Every time he tried to stand, his legs went numb and his vision swam.
The black veins had stopped spreading at his elbow. For now. They pulsed with a rhythm that wasn't his pulse, like something living had burrowed under his skin and was breathing on its own schedule.
"Genetic integration options available. Select traits to integrate."
The notification had been sitting in his vision for the past hour. Waiting. Patient.
Jin ignored it and focused on keeping the ship steady. The hull breach had sealed itself—barely—but the structural integrity was still hovering at 41%. One wrong move and the whole ship would tear apart.
His comm unit crackled. Static, then a voice.
"Unidentified vessel, this is Rust Haven Control. You're leaking plasma and your reactor signature is all over the place. State your business or turn around."
Jin hit the transmit button. "This is the Lucky Star, registry number... uh, give me a second." He'd forgotten his own registration code. His brain felt like mush. "I need emergency docking. I've got hull damage and I'm running on fumes."
Silence.
Then: "Lucky Star, your registry shows three outstanding violations and a lien from Kessler Financial. You got credits to pay docking fees?"
Jin's jaw tightened. "I've got salvage. Good salvage. I just came from a Leviathan-class dreadnought."
Another pause. Longer this time.
"A Leviathan? Out here?" The controller's voice changed. Less bored, more interested. "What'd you find?"
"Enough to cover my fees and then some." Jin hoped that was true. He had no idea what he'd actually found. The sphere was gone. Dissolved. All he had was this mark on his hand and a system that wanted him to eat things.
"Alright, Lucky Star. You got thirty minutes to dock at Bay 7 before we charge you extra. And if you're lying about that salvage, we're keeping your ship."
The communication cut off.
Jin exhaled. Thirty minutes. He could make that.
The notification pulsed brighter.
"Genetic integration delayed. Warning: Unintegrated genetic material will decay in 11 hours, 42 minutes. Recommend immediate selection."
"I said I'm ignoring you," Jin muttered.
"Decay will result in loss of genetic capacity and potential system instability."
That made him pause. His hand hovered over the controls.
"What kind of instability?"
"Host rejection. Estimated survival rate: 34%."
Jin's stomach dropped. "You're telling me if I don't pick one of these traits, there's a two-thirds chance I die?"
"Affirmative. The Stellar Genome requires active participation. Passive hosts do not survive integration."
"Of course they don't." Jin leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The metal was stained with old coolant leaks and rust. He'd been meaning to fix that for three years. "Show me the options again."
The list appeared, expanding in his vision:
Available Genetic Traits (Select 3):
Enhanced Spatial Awareness - Perceive three-dimensional space within 50-meter radius. Detect movement through electromagnetic distortion.
Void Adaptation - Survive in vacuum without life support for up to 30 minutes. Resistance to radiation and extreme temperatures.
Bioluminescent Camouflage - Skin produces adaptive light patterns. Blend into surroundings or produce distracting displays.
Crystalline Teeth - Teeth and bone structure reinforced with quantum-crystallized matter. Bite force increased 400%. Can puncture reinforced steel.
Jin read through them twice. His hands were still shaking.
"If I pick these, what happens to me?"
"Integration will modify host physiology to accommodate selected traits. Process is irreversible."
"That's not what I asked." Jin's voice was quiet. "I mean what happens to me. Do I stop being human?"
The system didn't answer right away. When it did, the response felt almost... careful.
"Humanity is a matter of perspective. You will retain consciousness, memory, and identity. Physical modifications will be minimal at Hatchling stage."
Minimal. That was a word that could mean a lot of things.
Jin looked at his marked hand. At the black veins. At the empty space outside where the Void Serpent used to be.
He thought about Mei. About the collectors who'd show up at her dorm in less than two days. About the medication she needed, the tuition she couldn't afford, the brother who'd promised he'd take care of everything after their parents died.
"If I do this," Jin said slowly, "if I keep going with this whole Star Devourer thing... can I get strong enough to protect her? Strong enough that the collectors can't touch her?"
"Affirmative. Evolution provides power. Power provides security."
It was the wrong answer and the right answer at the same time.
Jin closed his eyes. Took a breath. Made his choice.
"Enhanced Spatial Awareness. Void Adaptation. Crystalline Teeth."
The moment he said it, the notification flashed green.
"Genetic traits selected. Beginning integration process."
"Wait, I didn't—"
Pain hit him like a freight train.
His nerves caught fire. All of them. Every single nerve ending in his body screamed at once. Jin's back arched, hands clawing at the armrests. He tried to yell but his jaw locked shut.
The black veins flared bright purple, spreading faster now—up his arm, across his shoulder, branching out like lightning across his chest. Everywhere they touched, his skin burned and froze and burned again.
"Integration progress: 12%... 24%... 38%..."
Jin couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. His vision was white, then red, then that purple-that-wasn't-purple that the system loved so much.
Something in his skull shifted. Changed. He felt his perception expand outward like a bubble, and suddenly he could sense the ship around him—not seeing it, but feeling it. Every wire, every panel, every loose bolt. The reactor three rooms away pulsing with contained fusion. The hull breach at the stern leaking atmosphere molecule by molecule.
"56%... 71%..."
His teeth ached. No—not ached. They were growing. Reshaping. He ran his tongue along them and tasted blood where they'd cut his gums. Sharper now. Harder. When he bit down experimentally, his jaw felt like it could crack stone.
"89%... 100%."
"Integration complete."
The pain stopped.
Jin collapsed forward in his chair, gasping. Sweat soaked through his shirt. His whole body trembled.
But he could feel it. The changes. His lungs felt larger, more efficient. His skin tingled like it was breathing in ways it shouldn't be able to. And his awareness—he could sense the waystation ahead, still two hours away, like a bright spot on a map that existed inside his head.
"New genetic capacity: 647/1000. Traits successfully integrated."
"Evolution progress toward Juvenile stage: 64.7%."
Jin's hands were steady now. The shaking had stopped. He flexed his fingers, feeling tendons move under skin that felt just slightly wrong—tougher, denser.
"Status update," he said quietly.
The information appeared:
Name: Jin Park
Genome Type: Star Devourer (Mythical)
Evolution Stage: Hatchling
Genetic Capacity: 647/1000
Organisms Consumed: 1
Active Traits:
Enhanced Spatial Awareness (Tier-1)
Void Adaptation (Tier-1)
Crystalline Teeth (Tier-1)
Enhanced Regeneration (Tier-1)
Next Evolution: Juvenile Stage (353 capacity required)
Jin stared at the stats. Four traits. He'd only selected three.
"Why do I have Enhanced Regeneration? I didn't pick that."
"Enhanced Regeneration was absorbed during first consumption. All passive traits from consumed organisms are automatically integrated."
So that's how it worked. Kill something, eat it, gain its abilities. The more he consumed, the stronger he got.
Simple and brutal but Effective.
Jin's stomach turned. This was exactly the kind of power that turned people into monsters. He'd seen it before—gene-modders who went too far, corporate enforcers with illegal augments, anyone who got a taste of being more than human.
They always ended up the same way. Dead or worse.
"I'm not going to become like them," Jin said to the empty cockpit. "I'm just doing this until Mei's safe. Then I'm done."
The system didn't respond. It never did when he talked about stopping.
The Lucky Star's proximity alarm beeped. Rust Haven appeared on the viewscreen—a cluster of interconnected modules and docking rings that looked like it had been assembled by someone who'd never heard of building codes.
Perfect place to disappear for a while. Figure out what he was going to do next.
Jin guided the ship toward Bay 7, his new spatial awareness making the docking procedure almost automatic. He could feel the magnetic clamps reaching out, sense the exact moment they'd lock on.
The ship settled into place with a heavy clunk.
"Docking complete. Welcome to Rust Haven. Your thirty-minute grace period begins now."
Jin stood up. His legs were steady. Strong. He looked at his reflection in the dark viewscreen.
Same face. Same dark hair. Same tired eyes. But there was something different now. Something in the way he held himself. In the way his pupils caught the light.
He pulled his sleeve down over the black veins on his arm. Grabbed his salvager's coat from the back of the chair. Checked his credit chip—427 credits. Barely enough for a meal, let alone docking fees.
Time to sell whatever salvage he could scrounge up. And pray the station didn't ask too many questions about where he'd been.
Jin headed for the airlock, his new senses painting a three-dimensional map of everything around him. He could feel people moving in the station beyond—dozens of them, their body heat and electromagnetic signatures like bright stars in his perception.
One of them was coming toward his ship. Fast.
Jin's hand instinctively went to the plasma cutter on his belt. His new teeth felt sharp against his tongue.
The airlock opened.
A woman stood there. Short, muscular, head shaved clean except for a line of neural ports running from her temple to the back of her skull. She wore station security colors, but the gun on her hip was too expensive for a standard guard.
Her eyes narrowed when she saw Jin.
"You're the Lucky Star's captain?" She looked him up and down. "You look like shit."
"Rough day," Jin said.
"Yeah." She didn't move from the doorway. "I'm Karo. Station security. We need to talk about that Leviathan you mentioned."
Jin's spatial awareness pinged. Three more people approaching from different corridors. All armed.
This wasn't a welcoming committee.
This was an interrogation.
"Sure," Jin said carefully. "What do you want to know?"
Karo smiled. It wasn't friendly.
"Everything."