[Location: GDA Research Complex – Project Genesis Wing, Five Years Ago]
The hum of generators filled the corridor — steady, unending, mechanical.
White lights burned down from the ceiling, sterile and cold, reflecting off walls that looked more like hospital panels than the interior of a military lab.
Inside Observation Room 12, six figures stood behind reinforced glass, watching the chamber beyond. In the center of that chamber sat a teenage boy, no older than sixteen, thin and pale beneath the restraints of his examination chair. Electrodes ran from his wrists to a suspended array above his head, pulsing faint blue.
He was Subject X9 — though before the project, he had a name.
Ren Kael, born to Dr. Emilia Kael and Dr. Marcus Kael — lead physicists in the GDA's experimental division. Both had worked on the early stages of Project Genesis, a classified initiative intended to weaponize adaptive human physiology through energy-field integration.
But Ren had not been meant to join the project. He had been the project's first accident.
[Location: GDA Archive Record – Audio Log Reconstruction]
Dr. Marcus Kael: "Energy readings spiked again at 2300 hours. The resonance pattern matches the test reactor. Somehow, it's following him."
Dr. Emilia Kael: "He's absorbing the radiation, Marcus. It's not poisoning him — it's synchronizing. He's generating self-stabilizing fields."
Marcus: "That's impossible. No human metabolism could—"
Emilia: "He's not a normal human anymore."
The boy's gift — or curse — manifested after an accident in the family lab. The experimental reactor breached containment, and Ren shielded his mother with his body. Instead of dying, he absorbed the pulse. The data showed impossible readings: cellular matrices rewriting, neural frequencies aligning with electromagnetic energy patterns.
The GDA intervened within hours. His parents vanished into "internal relocation," and Ren became X9, the first living test subject of Project Genesis.
[Location: Project Genesis Containment Hall – Subject X9 Testing Chamber]
Dr. Evelyn Carter, the project's senior researcher, adjusted her tablet. "Stimulation threshold at thirty-seven percent. Begin charge induction."
Two engineers at the console activated the array. Sparks of light traced across the chamber floor, converging around Ren's chair. His eyes followed the flow calmly, as though memorizing the sequence of light itself.
Carter observed. "Integration stable. Let's move higher."
Ren's voice came through the intercom, steady and detached. "You're increasing field amplitude again. You'll breach containment if the frequency holds too long."
Carter frowned slightly. "You seem confident, Subject X9."
Ren's tone didn't change. "Because you're making the same mistake as before."
The energy flared, exactly as he predicted. Every sensor reading spiked. Instead of being drawn into the system, the energy folded back through him — self-sustaining, recursive.
Carter's assistant looked up, alarmed. "He's generating spontaneous feedback! We're losing field stability!"
Carter hesitated, fascination overtaking fear. "No… log everything. This could be the adaptive reaction we've been waiting for—"
The surge erupted before she could finish. The restraints snapped. Light filled the room, swallowing everything in a blinding pulse.
When it cleared, the chair was empty.
[Location: GDA Debriefing Chamber – Three Hours Later]
The air was thick with burnt ozone. Carter stood before Director Cecil Stedman, her voice clipped and calm despite the chaos outside.
"You lost him," Cecil said flatly.
"He phased," Carter replied. "Every sensor cut out. The entire reactor grid inverted polarity for less than a second — and he was gone. Not disintegrated, not teleported. Just gone."
Cecil leaned forward. "You're telling me a teenager turned himself into energy?"
"Not energy," Carter said quietly. "Something we don't understand yet. A resonance shift. As if he found a way out of this frequency entirely."
Cecil's expression hardened. "And his parents?"
Carter paused. "Both deceased. The containment fire consumed the east wing. There were no survivors."
Cecil closed the file. "Then Project Genesis ends here. Seal it. Erase every record."
She nodded, but she didn't delete the data.
[Location: Sub-level C Storage Vault – Unauthorized Recording]
Weeks later, Dr. Carter sat alone in the darkened vault, surrounded by silent machines. On her monitor, the same footage replayed — Ren vanishing into distortion.
She began a private log, her voice low, uncertain.
Entry 14. The readings don't make sense. Energy doesn't vanish; it transforms. But this... it's as if he slipped into a layer of existence we can't measure. Either he's gone... or he's somewhere our instruments can't reach.
If that's true... maybe the Genesis field didn't fail. Maybe it succeeded — just not in the way we expected.
The entry encrypted automatically and vanished from the system.
[Author's Note]This chapter marks the beginning of Ren's return to the Invisible World — his reappearance near the ruins of the original Genesis facility draws attention from the GDA and other factions once involved in Project Genesis. It sets the stage for the upcoming pursuit arc and the deeper exploration of what truly happened within Genesis.If you're enjoying the story so far, don't forget to drop a PowerStone and support the novel!