Chapter VIII—Around the Fur
A light rain drifted across the wasteland, thin enough to hear yet cold enough to sting.
The air still carried the bite of ozone… and something sweeter, almost cloying — the chemical rot of spoiled antiseptic.
The thorium-hymned whine of her motorcycle with sidecar tapered off as she killed the engine.
She checked the designated location on her smartwatch—a dimly lit holographic map where a small Compass icon pulsed. She pressed it, allowing the device to sync her current position with the 'Geo-Tagged' coordinates she had prepared earlier. A few seconds later, a crisp notification blinked:
**LOCATION ALIGNED**
It wasn't perfect. Without long-range GPS or Internet relays, geo-tagging the site in advance was all she had left. But it was enough. It had to be. She couldn't afford to waste even the smallest chance of finding help for her younger sister.
After confirming the location, she pushed the motorcycle with its attached sidecar off the dirt road toward a small dead tree near an old, rusty maintenance shack. She pulled a circular magnetic Surface-Blinding Tablet—roughly the size of an ice-hockey puck—from her backpack and pressed it onto the vehicle's frame.
A thin Conductive Metamaterial Film unfurled outward in all directions.It didn't deploy as a simple sheet; the material bloomed across the motorcycle in fractal patches, each node calibrating itself in milliseconds. The calibration phase produced a wash of kaleidoscopic colors, a real-world phenomenon caused by the film tuning its refractive index—similar to how thin-film interference creates shifting rainbows on oil or polarized glass.
Within seconds, the Surface-Blinding Tablet synchronized with the film's Nano-Scale Refraction Lattice, and the shifting colors collapsed into a muted distortion field. The motorcycle's outline broke apart at a distance, turning into something indistinct—like heat haze mixed with faulty peripheral vision.
To the naked eye, it would look like nothing more than warped air.
Without a military-grade visor, no one would even know the bike is parked there.
She quickened her pace toward the biolab. Wind pushed the rain sideways, needling her face despite the brim of her black cap. Her medical mask—worn out of caution for whatever biochemical horrors might linger inside—fogged with every breath. Worse, droplets kept collecting on her glasses. Every few steps she had to stop, lift her handkerchief, and wipe the lenses clean just to keep her bearings.
Her heeled boots sank into the softening earth with a dull, sucking sound.
The outer ring of Site SA-02 lay still as a grave.
No movement except the slow drift of greenish fog clinging to the perimeter wall like it was breathing.
She hunched into her coat, shoulders tight against the cold.
The closer she drew to the biolab, the thinner the air felt—dry, stale, as if the building itself exhaled into the world around it.
Ahead, beyond the broken magnetic-rail line, the north-west lab cluster rose from the mist: three domes that once gleamed like polished glass under daylight. In the SAI atlas they'd been pristine, immaculate, a symbol of achievement.
Now, they looked like monuments to something long dead.
The largest dome—the Biosynthetic Adaptation Laboratory—towered above her. Up close, she could see each glass panel, once transparent and brilliant, now clouded with streaks of resin and chemical soot. Alloy ribs that used to shine faint white were stained dark. The whole structure no longer radiated sterile perfection.
A sharp clatter cracked through the rain-blurred night—somewhere distant, beyond SAI— interior wall
Sarinee arrived at the fence just outside the biolab, gasping for air, when suddenly a distorted screech erupted. She held her breath, the iron cutter frozen mid-air, frozen completely—thinking she was in trouble. Then she heard it again as nearby people started shouting to each other and looking toward the origin of the sound, on the other side to the left of where she was crouched and hidden, while the strange creatures continued roaring menacingly.
"Graa—krrr—RRAAA—kak-grrraaa—RAAHK—kahhh—!"
"Kraaa—hrrrk—RAA-grah—krriii-aaakh—!"
Acting like part of the inanimate surroundings, blending with the atmosphere, she waited until the area became less occupied. She gasped for air again, only then realizing she had been holding her breath the entire time. She picked up the iron cutter again and began cutting from the lowest side at the corner of the fence, tearing upward until nearly half of it was opened.
When she was sure the hole was big enough to squeeze through, she took a quick peek on both sides of the fence again, noticing a few people still standing to her left, overlooking the commotion where the creatures' growls suggested something was happening to them. As she slipped through the fence and scurried toward the back-corner door of the building, another sound rang out.
She froze.
"Grrrhh—hhrrrgh—rrrhhhkk—chek-chek-chek—GRRHHH—!"
"Hrrrgh—rr-rrr—CHEK-CHEK—grhhhk—rrr—!"
The fizzing sound of some electrified device or short circuit followed—then an even more ferocious roar from another creature. This one sounded more menacing than the first. A heavy stench of blood, anesthetic chemicals, and putrid acid hit her nose. Her eyes widened as she began trembling in fear. She crouched behind one of the towering crates of emptied medical supplies, her face turning deathly pale as she covered her mouth and nose, struggling to draw air.
Whatever was crying out, they were not normal animals—and definitely not what they referred to as angels, the experimented CCs, anymore. They were experimenting on something else. That smell… I remember…
And before she realized it—while she was still muttering to herself, drowning in the unimaginable truth of this cultist group's inhumane experiments—someone was already lurking nearby, drawing closer and closer…
SAI Patrol POV — Perimeter Sweep
That morning, on his way to the three-year compulsory mechanical studies class — mandatory for every SAI-born male to serve the ideological foundation of SAI, the Anti-Gravity Energy Project — Jarin passed the open workshop yard and saw Commander Arika speaking with Ajarn Gorran. Her voice was low, almost secretive. The tension in her posture only sharpened Jarin's curiosity.
He slowed… then slowed further to a halt beside one of the pillars, just enough to hide himself from sight.
And because he was a teenage boy with an overactive imagination and a head full of high fantasy, he had absolutely no discipline over his own curiosity. His mind instantly jumped to something taboo — something he had only ever heard or seen in secret with friends — and this was far more stimulating than any normal virtual novel program, no doubt. Firm in that reckless belief, the boy quickly indulged in the thrill of eavesdropping on "adult forbidden secrets," a high-level discussion he definitely was not supposed to hear, which of course only made him… lean closer.
Commander Arika stood with Ajarn Gorran, back straight, expression composed but tight at the edges. She rarely showed strain while on duty. A few steps away, Commander Phawin listened with arms crossed, jaw set with visible skepticism.
"…not a Cannibal Corpse," Arika said. "…engineered creature… not common at all… we got lucky…"
Jarin leaned in further, straining to catch more — but with the fourth-floor windows open and rattling, the maintenance compressors nearby drowned out half the words.
What's this about an engineered creature…? That sounds like real high-rank business…
Phawin exhaled sharply.
"If it was that dangerous, your squad wouldn't be walking back with just bruises. You're reading too much into a mutation," Commander Phawin said.
Commander Arika cut in quickly. "I credited Yuri and Albert's combat prowess. I wasn't strong enough to protect everyone at all times, yet I hope my info could at least help save lives. We studied together before — you should know me well."
"Come on, that was so long ago — back when you were always hanging out with that merchant boy…" Phawin hesitated, guilt softening his tone. "I'm… sorry. I… uh… forgot he passed…"
Commander Arika's eyes glistened, her pale-pink cheeks turning cherry red.
Commander Phawin sighed and looked at her properly.
"Look… considering we are old friends turned rivals, yet friends are friends. I'll try talking to my father tonight, and if anything comes of it, I'll inform you — but no promises, alright?"
Arika managed a small, grateful smile and nodded. "Thank you very much."
Ajarn Gorran — one of the eldest and most respected men in the entire SAI, despite his low-rank specialty — was acknowledged by every knight, every orphaned child, and even the King himself as a pivotal pillar of the kingdom.
He gave Commander Arika a small, generous smile as he patted her shoulder.
"Look, Arika, I've known you since you were five. You always pushed the hardest — all for the kingdom and the King. I know, Phawin knows, and anyone who doesn't know… simply isn't a real SAI resident. So I believe you. However, I don't have the authority to speak to His Majesty directly. But from what you've told me, I already know exactly what assignments to prepare for my students."
And out of nowhere, Ajarn Gorran's eyes flicked toward Jarin.
I'm in deep shit. I'm in deep shit— Jarin thought as he immediately tried to crawl away.
But—
"WAIT, Master Jarin," Ajarn Gorran called as he walked closer and closer. "Where do you think you're going? You have class with me today. Come back — I've already thought of a new punishment for a high-energy boy like you."
"I'm… I'm sorry, krub Ajarn, heheh…" Jarin bowed nervously, gaze lowered, right hand rubbing the back of his neck while the other clutched the borrowed notepad.
—
"Jarin… you slept. We're almost at the last checkpoint. Jarin…"
"Kraaa—hrrrk—RAA-grah—krriii-aaakh—!"
The electric scooters hummed along the abandoned magnetic rail — last checkpoint on the Tier-2 patrol line — when Jarin suddenly braked hard.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered.
Meena rolled up beside him, posture quiet, eyes scanning.
"…Heard it."
"You didn't hear that cry just now? You deaf or what?"
Another guttural noise tore through the fog:
"Grrrhh—hhrrrgh—rrrhhhkk—chek-chek-chek—GRRHHH—!"
Meena straightened slightly.
"…Not animal."
"Visor," Jarin ordered quickly. "Heat vision on. Auto-detect. Commander Arika said something dangerous might be roaming the outskirts these days — looks like she was right."
Meena nodded once and tapped his helmet. The visor chirped as auto-detect activated.
"Activated," he said quietly.
Jarin elbowed him lightly.
"You sure you're not just missing your girlfriend and imagining things?"
Meena gave him a flat, unimpressed look.
"…Just focus."
Another layered screech ripped through the fog:
"Kraaa—hrrrk—RAA-grah—krriii-aaakh—!"
"Hrrrgh—rr-rrr—CHEK-CHEK—grhhhk—rrr—!"
Meena's shoulders tensed.
"West side," he said quietly. "Point it there."
Jarin grabbed the helmet and swung it toward the direction. The HUD zoomed toward a cluster of heat signatures deep in the mist.
"At about three hundred degrees — yeah. There. Lab building's cold… blues and purples," Meena murmured. "And… red cluster. Twenty-plus bodies."
"And?" Jarin pressed.
Meena swallowed, eyes narrowing.
"…Two huge signatures. Bigger than human. Another faint blue one — could be a false read… or a cultist in heavy gear. But those first two…"
A slow breath.
"…They're wrong. They're loading them for transport."
"Say what?! Let me see."
Jarin snatched the visor helmet and slipped it on.
But he was too late.
All he caught was a faint blue heat smear — blurred, indistinct, impossible to tell whether it was a monster or just a sick, oversized Demon Lord cultist. Before he could focus, the truck doors slammed shut. The vehicle's heat washed the image into white noise.
"Damn it…"
Jarin pulled the visor off and handed it back.
"We need to report this now. You call it in. You saw everything."
Meena shifted uncomfortably.
"…Talking isn't my thing."
"Come on," Jarin urged. "Your mom's alone out there. Don't you feel even a little worried? Look — I'll report with you, alright? You lead, I back you up. And besides…"
He smirked.
"You really don't wanna see Commander Arika?"
Meena's ears reddened immediately. He looked away, lifting a hand to hide his face — and nearly steered into the checkpoint wall.
"Focus, idiot," Jarin snapped, grabbing the handlebar just in time.
Before Meena could reply, his visor pinged again.
A small heat signature.
Low to the ground.
Right beside the dome.
Meena stiffened.
"…New contact."
Jarin leaned in. "What is it?"
Meena adjusted the zoom.
"…Civilian. Small frame. Moving toward the back entrance."
"Civilian? Seriously?"
A tight nod.
"…She's inside the fence."
Brighter heat signatures surged across the screen.
Meena's breath caught — though his voice stayed low.
"…They saw her. She's taken."
"That's it," Jarin muttered, tapping his comm. "We're reporting this now, this is huge deal."
Meena turned his scooter without another word and focused solely on speeding back, letting Jarin handle comms as they raced toward the outpost — the fog behind them still echoing with faint, layered screams.