KIRA'S POV
My body was eating itself from the inside again.
I clutched my stomach—all four hands pressing against the cramping muscles—and bit back a scream. The hunger had gone from painful to unbearable to fatal. My three hearts were slowing down. My vision kept going dark at the edges. I was dying.
Or maybe just changing again. At this point, I couldn't tell the difference.
Through the vent grate below me, I could see them. Fifty white rats in neat rows of cages, sleeping peacefully. Living, breathing fuel that my alien body demanded.
I won't. I'm not an animal. I'm Dr. Kira Chen, and I don't eat living creatures.
But even as I thought it, acid drool dripped from my teeth, burning holes in the metal vent cover. My claws extended without permission, scraping against the walls. Every instinct screamed: HUNT. FEED. SURVIVE.
Another cramp doubled me over. This time I did scream—that awful clicking, hissing sound that wasn't human. Something inside me was shutting down. I could feel it. My left arm had gone numb. My vision in one eye was fading.
If I don't eat, I'll die. Or worse—I'll lose my mind completely and attack people.
The thought of waking up covered in human blood, with no memory of who I'd killed, decided it.
I punched through the vent cover and dropped into the lab.
The nearest rat woke up when I landed. It looked at me with those tiny pink eyes, whiskers twitching. Curious. Unafraid. It had no idea what I was.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, and hated that only clicking sounds came out. "I'm so, so sorry."
I opened the cage with shaking hands—monsters' hands—and the rat walked right onto my palm. Trusting. Innocent.
I closed my eyes and bit down.
The explosion of taste was instant. Not just flavor—information. My alien senses processed everything at once. The rat's DNA, its memories, its entire genetic code flooding into me. I felt my body grab onto that information and use it, incorporating what it needed, discarding what it didn't.
The hunger eased immediately. Warmth spread through my limbs. My numb arm tingled back to life. My fading vision snapped clear.
I opened my eyes and stared at my hands in shock.
They were changing. Right before my eyes. The black carapace was shifting, becoming smoother. More refined. My claws retracted slightly, becoming sharper but more controlled. And my broken fingers—the ones I'd injured during the transformation—were knitting back together, bones straightening, joints realigning.
It's healing me. Eating living things actually heals me.
The scientific part of my brain—the part that was still Kira—woke up with fascination. This was incredible. My body was using consumed DNA to repair damage and evolve new adaptations. Every meal wasn't just food. It was an upgrade.
I looked at the other forty-nine rats.
No. I only needed one. I'm still in control.
But my stomach disagreed. It wanted more. Needed more. The single rat had barely taken the edge off the hunger. I was still starving, and my body knew there was fuel right here, waiting.
"Just one more," I told myself. "Just enough to stabilize."
I ate three more rats before I could force myself to stop.
With each one, I felt myself change. My spine lengthened, becoming more flexible. My hearing sharpened until I could detect heartbeats three levels away. My skin developed a chameleonic quality—when I pressed against the wall, my body automatically matched its color.
But the worst change was in my mind.
Each time I consumed, I felt a little more... satisfied. A little less guilty. The horror of what I was doing faded into background noise, replaced by the logical understanding that this was survival. This was evolution. This was necessary.
No! I shook my head violently. That's Subject Zero thinking, not me. I have to stay human. I have to remember who I am.
I forced myself to back away from the cages. Forced my hands—all four of them—to stop reaching for more food. I was better than this. I was stronger than my instincts.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Multiple people, moving fast. Guards. Coming here.
"Motion sensors triggered in Section 12-B," a voice crackled over someone's radio. "The creature's in the animal lab."
They'd found me. And I was trapped in a room with only one exit.
I scrambled up the wall—my new adhesive skin made climbing effortless—and pressed against the ceiling, my chameleonic body blending with the tiles. Below me, the door burst open.
Atlas ran in first, plasma rifle raised. My heart—all three hearts—clenched at the sight of him. Even now, even like this, I loved him so much it hurt worse than the hunger.
Behind him came Marcus and a squad of guards, all armed. All ready to kill me.
"It was just here," Marcus said, scanning the room. "Heat signatures show recent activity."
Atlas walked slowly toward the rat cages. Saw the four empty ones. His jaw tightened. "It's feeding. Evolving."
"That's good, right?" Marcus said. "Means it's still biological. Still needs to eat. We can track its patterns, predict where it'll hunt next."
"It," Atlas repeated bitterly. "Not she. It."
I wanted to drop down, to make him see me. To prove I was still Kira. But then I remembered Martinez's body. Remembered the blood on my claws. How could I ask Atlas to trust me when I couldn't even trust myself?
"Atlas..." I tried to whisper his name, but it came out as a hiss.
He spun around, rifle up, scanning the ceiling. "Did you hear that?"
"Probably just ventilation," a guard said.
But Atlas kept staring right at my hiding spot. Could he see me? No. My camouflage was perfect. But somehow, he knew I was there.
"Kira," he said softly. "If that's you... if any part of you is still in there... please. Give me a sign. Help me believe you're not just a monster."
I wanted to answer so badly. Wanted to show him I was still me. But before I could move, the door exploded inward again.
Captain Cross stormed in with ten heavily armed guards. "Stand aside, Commander."
"Captain, I have this under control—"
"You're relieved of duty." Her voice was ice. "That creature killed four people and is consuming biological specimens. It's evolving into something we can't predict or control. I'm ordering immediate termination."
"You can't—"
"I just did." She gestured to her guards. "Flood this room with plasma fire. Burn everything. If that thing is in here, I want it dead."
"There are fifty rats in here!" Atlas protested.
"Acceptable casualties. Fire on my mark."
The guards raised their weapons, plasma coils glowing bright.
I had two seconds to decide: stay hidden and get burned alive, or reveal myself and confirm their worst fears.
I chose survival.
I dropped from the ceiling, landing between Atlas and Captain Cross. All four of my arms spread wide, claws extended, making myself as big and threatening as possible.
"DON'T SHOOT!" Atlas yelled.
But Captain Cross smiled coldly. "Fire."
Ten plasma rifles discharged at once. The bolts lit up the room like lightning. I moved on pure instinct—dodging, weaving, using speed I didn't know I had. One bolt caught my leg. Pain exploded through me, and I screamed that multi-voiced shriek.
I crashed through a wall—my body punched through solid metal like it was paper—and fell into the corridor beyond. Guards were everywhere. More weapons charging.
I ran. Ran faster than any human could, my four limbs carrying me in a desperate sprint. Behind me, I heard Captain Cross screaming orders. Heard Atlas shouting my name. Heard plasma bolts scorching the air.
I dove into an open maintenance shaft and kept running, down into the ship's deepest levels. Away from everyone. Away from Atlas. Away from the rats I'd eaten and the monster I was becoming.
I didn't stop until I reached the cargo bay—a massive empty space filled with supply containers. Dark. Cold. Safe.
I collapsed against a crate, panting. My burned leg was already healing, the tissue knitting back together with disturbing speed. Each breath made my chest ache. Each heartbeat reminded me I wasn't human anymore.
And then I felt it. A flutter deep in my stomach. Not hunger. Something else.
I looked down at my abdomen. Under the black carapace, something glowed. Pulsing. Alive.
My hand touched the spot, and suddenly I understood with absolute certainty:
I was pregnant.
With Atlas's baby. From before the transformation.
And it was changing too.