The entrance to Elara's hideout was nearly invisible—hidden beneath a shattered cliffside, overgrown with moss and thorned vines. A panel embedded in the rock pulsed faintly, waiting for her touch.
Elara pressed her palm to it. The stone shifted with a deep rumble, revealing a dark corridor reinforced with scavenged tech and old-world steel.
"Welcome to the end of the world," she said with a smirk, leading Artemis inside.
The space was cramped but livable—old cots, dusty crates, shelves filled with scavenged supplies, and a central console made from the guts of a downed Hunter. A faint hum filled the room, the result of a half-working generator.
Artemis dropped her pack, stretched, and winced. "Your place smells like ozone and regret."
Elara snorted. "That's the scent of genius engineering under extreme emotional duress."
They both smiled, but it didn't last long.
Once the door sealed behind them, the weight of everything crept back in. The transformation. The Hunters. The war they hadn't asked to be part of.
"Alright," Artemis said, turning serious. "Time for answers. What exactly did that portal do to me?"
Elara gestured for her to sit, then opened a case by the console, pulling out a scanner. She hesitated, then looked up.
"This might feel… weird."
Artemis shrugged. "We passed weird five cities ago."
Elara smiled tightly and scanned her, the screen flickering with streams of data—symbols, DNA spirals, energy fields. Her eyes widened.
"Oh my god…"
"What?" Artemis leaned forward.
"You're not just enhanced," Elara said. "You're bonded. Your body absorbed raw energy from the portal, but not just passively. It's… symbiotic. It's evolving with you. Like it's alive."
Artemis blinked. "Alive? You mean it's… learning?"
"Yes," Elara whispered, pointing at the screen. "See that curve? It mimics adaptive growth. Your claws, your reflexes, your strength—that's not just mutation. It's an intelligent system changing based on what you need."
Artemis stared at her hands. "That's why they retract. Why I move without thinking."
"Exactly," Elara said. "You're part human. Part… something else. But that's not the scary part."
Elara turned the scanner toward the console and activated a projection—a crude 3D model of the portal.
"There are others like you. Not many. But enough. The Hunters are tracking them—eliminating them one by one."
Artemis's jaw tightened. "So they think I'm a threat."
Elara shook her head. "They think you're a key. That whatever you've become could unlock—or destroy—something bigger. Something we haven't seen yet."
Artemis stood, pacing. "So what do we do?"
Elara hesitated. Then: "We find the others. Before the Hunters do."
Artemis stopped. "You're serious?"
"They'll be scared. Alone. Dangerous, maybe. But if we don't reach them first, we lose our only chance to stop this."
Artemis ran a hand through her hair. "And me? What happens to me the longer I keep changing?"
"I don't know," Elara admitted. "But you've held on this long. You're still you."
"I'm something," Artemis said quietly. "I just hope I still recognize myself when this is over."
Elara stood and touched her cheek. "I'll remind you. Every step of the way."
Their eyes met—and in that silence, their resolve solidified.
Artemis turned toward the console, her claws slowly extending as if reacting to her determination.
"Then let's find them. And end this."