Marcus looked like someone had just punched him in the gut—furious, frustrated, and barely holding it together. Seraphina sighed and gave him a small, resigned smile.
"Alright, alright. You win. I'll go with you one more time. But look, the beast tide just ended. Most of the monsters out there are already dead. If we're going to do this, now's probably the safest window we'll get."
Marcus's face lit up like a kid on his birthday. Without thinking, he pulled her into a tight hug.
"Ha! I knew you'd get it, Sera! You're the best!"
Seraphina squirmed out of his arms, flustered.
"Ugh—let go already! Geez…" She brushed herself off and muttered under her breath, "I'm not crazy, y'know. Just… caught up in your stupid hero moment."
Then her voice dropped a little, more serious now.
"Last time I went out with my dad, he told me—whenever we head into the wild, both our families send people to tail us. Quietly. Just in case anything goes wrong. And Ethan's ability? Besides us and Lily, my dad, Mayor Thorne, and our two shadows—they know too. Those guys are both Rank Two, Level Nine. With them on backup, we should be covered."
She turned toward the city, her voice calm.
"Anyway. Let's get our stuff ready. We leave at first light."
Marcus finally let go, his excitement hardening into quiet resolve.
"Yeah. Got it."
Marcus headed home to pack. After getting everything in order and catching a full night's rest, he was just about to head out—when his dad stopped him cold.
Alden Vance stood with his arms crossed, eyeing the massive, overstuffed backpack on Marcus's shoulders.
"You planning to move out permanently, or what?"
Marcus froze.
"N-no… Just heading out to, uh… take care of something."
Alden's brows rose, unimpressed.
"Uh-huh. And what exactly needs that much gear?"
Marcus opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He fumbled, stammered, completely busted.
Alden sighed and shook his head.
"You've always been muscle-first, brain-second. Can't even lie properly." He rubbed the back of his neck, voice softening. "That Ethan kid… I watched him grow up too. Call it a training run if you want, but I get it."
Marcus's eyes widened.
"You… knew the whole time?"
Alden smirked and patted him on the shoulder.
"I'm your father, Marcus. You really think you can pull one over on me?"
He looked off toward the city gate.
"That Atherton kid's got serious potential. Be a shame if it went to waste. Now go on—get moving."
Marcus grinned, heart pounding.
"Thanks, Dad! I'm gone!"
And with that, he was out the door like a rocket, thoughts full of nothing but Seraphina and the mission ahead.
Alden watched him vanish down the street. Then he turned slightly and spoke to the empty air behind him.
"Sterling. He's your responsibility now. If things go bad out there, I don't care what you have to do—knock him out and bring him home."
From the shadows, a man stepped forward—Commander Sterling. His voice was steady.
"Understood, Master Vance. Even if I have to die… he won't."
And with a flicker of movement, he vanished in the same direction as Marcus.
Seraphina, meanwhile, had a similar conversation on her end. Her family put up some resistance, but in the end, they let her go.
She met Marcus at the city gate. The two handed over their IDs, cleared inspection without a word, and stepped out into the open wild.
Seraphina adjusted her pack, eyes scanning the wilderness.
"We might have to camp out overnight this time."
Marcus tightened his grip on his weapon, nodding without hesitation.
"I'm not coming back without Ethan."
Their packs shifted as they moved. Their steps didn't slow. Not once did either of them look back.
Inside the cold bio-stasis pod, Ethan thrashed against heavy metal restraints, eyes blazing with fury.
"AHH! You sick freak! You think you can kill me?!"
Chains bit into his wrists and ankles, holding him down no matter how hard he fought. His body shook with effort, but nothing gave.
The Doctor stood in front of him with that same blank expression—calm, clinical, utterly detached. Then, slowly, a cruel smile crept across his face. He picked up an oversized syringe and walked toward the pod.
Without a word, he plunged it into Ethan's arm and pushed. The Beastification Potion surged into Ethan's bloodstream.
Almost instantly, Ethan's body began to convulse. His skin turned rough, like hardened leather. Coarse hair burst from his arms and chest. His smooth skin disappeared under a coat of thick, animalistic fur. His eyes reddened. His teeth sharpened. His breathing turned into low, feral growls.
A storm of energy was raging inside him, trying to tear his humanity apart. Every nerve screamed. Every bone cracked. It felt like fire ants were crawling under his skin, chewing through his marrow.
He spasmed, muscles locking up, then tearing against themselves. The pain was unthinkable—raw, primal, endless. It dragged him deeper into a black pit of despair.
From the control panel, the Doctor let out a chuckle, watching it all unfold.
"Not bad," he muttered. "Not bad at all."
He turned to the massive computer console nearby, fingers flying across the holographic keyboard, recording every data spike.
"No need to panic, specimen. This is just the first day. The experiment will take at least two weeks. Plenty more to come."
Ethan's voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper through gritted teeth.
"You sick bastard… I swear I'll kill you. Tear you apart…"
But the Doctor just smirked, unbothered.
"I doubt you'll be able to string two words together when I'm finished."
Then he paused. His eyes narrowed, scanning the data feed on the screen.
"Hmm. Your body's too weak. Rank One, Level Ten… you're not ready for another dose."
He turned toward his assistant.
"Looks like we'll need to boost his tolerance. Good thing we brought back some Aura Cores during the distraction."
He snapped his fingers.
The Tiger Deacon stepped forward, carrying a large metal crate. Inside were dozens of shimmering cores—F-rank, E-rank, and even a rare C-rank.
The Doctor stared at them like they were treasure. He sighed as he dumped them into a machine.
"For the glory of evolution…"
The machine whirred to life, extracting the raw Aura from the cores, refining it into gas, then compressing it into glowing liquid. That liquid was drawn into syringes, one by one, and slotted into the pod's injection rig.
A hiss. The first needle pierced Ethan's skin.
The moment the liquid Aura entered his body, it exploded outward—flooding his organs, tearing through every channel, every cell. It didn't heal. It overwhelmed.
Outside the pod, the Tiger Deacon extended his hand, guiding the volatile energy with his own psionic flow, doing just enough to keep Ethan from being torn apart.