Ethan Cross had always thought hospitals were loudest at night. Not because of the sirens or the wails — those were constant, day or night — but because of the silence in between. The hum of fluorescent lights, the steady blip of monitors, the shuffle of exhausted shoes on linoleum. It was the sound of people hanging on, of lives balanced between endings and new beginnings.
He checked his watch. Nearly midnight. His shift should have ended hours ago, but he'd stayed behind as always, patching up what he could. He'd started this job because he couldn't bear the thought of people dying alone. Now, though, every day felt heavier.
"Cross, you heading out?" a nurse called, stifling a yawn.
"Five more minutes," Ethan lied. He always said that.
The news radio crackled from the corner, filling the space with unease.
"…reports continue to flood in from across the globe. Unexplained fainting spells, sudden violent behavior in animals, even birds falling from the sky in mass numbers. Scientists remain baffled…"
Ethan frowned. A flu strain wouldn't drop birds out of the air. He rubbed his temple, ignoring the gnawing sense that something was off.
The last patient was asleep, monitors stable. Ethan slipped outside for air, tugging his jacket tight against the chill. The city stretched out before him — steel and neon, a patchwork of traffic lights and window-glow. Yet something about it felt wrong. Too still.
No voices, no footsteps, no honking horns. A siren wailed far away, sharp and desperate, then cut off mid-scream.
The hair rose on Ethan's arms.
Then the world shuddered.
It began as a pressure in his teeth, like biting down on metal foil. Then it sank deeper, rattling through bone and marrow, until every cell in his body vibrated with an invisible hum. A resonance, low and endless, as though reality itself had been struck like a great bell.
Ethan doubled over, clutching his chest. The air itself seemed to crack. Streetlamps flickered. Cars screeched to a halt. People all along the block collapsed, writhing in pain. Someone screamed, high and thin, before their voice broke into gargles.
Then the white light came.
It wasn't outside him — it was inside. His veins seared as though molten fire flowed through them. His vision drowned in brilliance. His knees hit the pavement, breath tearing in his throat.
And then the voice.
Not human. Not digital. Something ancient. A voice that resonated from the marrow outward, heavy with laughter that wasn't laughter at all.
---
[Resonance Detected.]
[Subject DNA unlocked.]
[Selection Protocol Engaged.]
"Mortal." The voice rolled through him like thunder. "Your world has become a playground for the gods. But fear not — this is no annihilation. We seek not your end, but your evolution."
"You will choose your path. Five possibilities, carved from the blood of your ancestors. Choose, and we will weave your destiny. Refuse, and you will be unmade."
[Five Evolutionary Pathways Available.]
[Time to Mutation: 5:00]
---
The world around him dissolved.
Ethan stood in a cathedral of bone and light. Veins of crimson fire laced the walls, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Five pillars of brilliance rose from the floor, each humming with possibility, each whispering to him in a language deeper than words.
Visions crashed into him one after another.
---
The First Path: Gene-Warden.
Emerald fire coursed through his body. Wounds sealed instantly, blood turned to medicine, organs remade into living armor. He could sense others nearby, feel their cells, nudge their mutations toward stability.
"Healer. Stabilizer. Guardian of the genome."
The Second Path: Titan-Blood.
His body swelled, bones knotting thicker than stone, muscle fibers tearing and regrowing like braided steel. Every step shook the ground. Weapons shattered against his skin.
"Shield. Hammer. The unbroken wall."
The Third Path: Neural Savant.
Neurons blazed into constellations. The world slowed to a crawl. He saw every angle, every probability, every flaw. Reflexes moved before thought. Genius burned so bright it threatened to consume itself.
"Mind sharpened beyond flesh. Predator of thought."
The Fourth Path: Venom-Born.
His tongue split like a serpent's. Black glands swelled beneath his skin, dripping acid that hissed where it fell. His nails lengthened into claws. Shadows clung to him like a second skin.
"Corruption. Predator. Power beyond humanity."
The Fifth Path: Phase-Strider.
His body blurred, rippling like heat-haze, slipping in and out of reality. He flickered forward, through stone, through fire, untouchable but unstable, a ghost walking the skin of the world.
"Walker between worlds. Untouchable. Unstable."
---
The visions ripped away, leaving Ethan on his knees, chest heaving. In front of him hung the countdown, burning numbers against the void.
4:59… 4:58… 4:57.
"Jesus Christ… what the hell is this... a game?" His voice came out hoarse. Choose? He was a medic, not a soldier. He wasn't built for this.
Screams ripped through the night, dragging him back to the real world.
Ethan jerked his head up. Across the street, a man writhed on the ground. His countdown flickered red, then collapsed to zero. His body convulsed violently as his skin split down the arms. Bone jutted outward like knives. His jaw cracked wider, teeth lengthening into jagged shards.
The man's eyes clouded. His timer vanished.
And then he roared.
It was not a human sound.
The first mutant lurched upright, foam spilling from its jaws, movements spasming with feral hunger.
Ethan's own countdown ticked on.
3:58… 3:57… 3:56.
He stared at the five blazing paths inside his mind, every one of them terrifying, every one final.
The system's words still echoed inside his skull. "Choose, mortal, and we will create the path of your destiny."
And the world demanded he decide.