--
(Fox-Lady's POV)
An involuntary breath slipped from my lips as the wave slowly receded, leaving behind a deep, resonant stillness—so quiet it felt like the world had briefly stopped breathing with me.
I blinked, my vision settling back into focus. The floating display pulsed faintly at the edge of my vision, yet my mind barely registered it. My attention was instead turned inward, tracing the contours of a body that suddenly felt… foreign.
I waited for it—the familiar heaviness in my limbs, the vague tremor beneath my skin, the fatigue that clung to me like a second shadow.
Nothing.
Not even the faint, annoying flicker of muscle spasms that had followed me my entire life.
Gitelman's Syndrome had always been a quiet tyrant inside me—a genetic chain wrapped around my potential. It stole energy, sabotaged endurance, and reminded me relentlessly of my limits. I had built my entire career around outpacing it, pushing through it, refusing to let it define what I could or could not do.
It was a flaw I despised.
A fate I fought against with every contract completed, every blade drawn, every moment of harsh discipline carved into my nerves.
But now…
It was gone.
The anchor was simply not there.
My body felt impossibly light, as if someone had rebuilt me from the inside out, reforged and corrected. No dull ache behind my eyes. No burn in my muscles. Even the deep gash across my abdomen—the one he had just bandaged—felt muted, almost distant.
Slowly, I lifted my head.
My gaze met his.
His scarlet irises glowed faintly beneath the dim lights, like embers simmering in a dying fire. He was watching me with quiet certainty—not surprise, not curiosity. Understanding.
As though he already knew that something fundamental within me had shifted.
And for once, I had no words.
----
[WGA HEADQUARTERS | LOCATION: 37° 19′ 0″ S, 12° 44′ 0″ W]
The entire headquarters had been thrown into upheaval the moment the events shaking the world began. What was once a fortress of diplomacy and global cooperation had become a battleground of raw terror.
The soundscape shifted in violent waves—screams and guttural shouts swallowed by the staccato rattle of gunfire, then smothered again by the deep, percussive thud of heavy artillery.
The massive cube-shaped steel structure—walls that had once housed negotiations between world powers—now trembled under the weight of horrors no architect or official had ever prepared for.
Deep beneath the chaos, sealed behind reinforced alloy doors, the Summit Chamber shook with every distant explosion. Holograms flickered unsteadily across the circular table—fractured feeds, dying audio systems, and red-labeled threat diagnostics updating faster than human eyes could track.
The flickering lights revealed a small crowd huddled in one corner, keeping as far from the main entrance as possible. Every face was turned toward the unstable hologram, watching the gruesome footage streaming from the visor cams of the operatives fighting above.
They were fighting back, but…
The feed warped as a shape slid into view—distorted, too fast to comprehend.
A soul-scraping scream tore through the speakers before the view jolted upward, capturing the blood-stained ceiling. Then the feed went dead.
Another camera feed immediately replaced it.
The room plunged into a silence somehow deeper than fear itself.
One of the observers turned sharply to the far corner, eyes still widened in horror. A pool of darkening blood spread across the metal floor. Three twisted, unrecognizable bodies lay there, riddled with bullet holes.
"General Griffin… wh-what do we do?" someone choked out, voice cracking with absolute terror. "Those things are overwhelming them!"
The man being referred to didn't answer.
Or perhaps he just didn't hear.
Instead, his eyes were locked onto his phone, frustration—and something dangerously close to desperation—creeping into his expression.
No signal.
The Summit Chamber was built like a Faraday cage. Easily one of the most secure places on earth. Unbreachable by outside interference.
But a nightmare for unauthorized wireless communication.
And with the internal communication protocols destroyed, they were digitally isolated.
Cut off from the troops.
Cut off from the world.
Cut off from hope.
----
Meanwhile…
(Max's POV)
Looking down at her, I raised an eyebrow. Why were her eyes glowing?
Her irises shimmered with faint amethyst streaks radiating outward—like someone had etched luminescent lines into them.
{That is her gene skill activating, sir. A minor light display occurs during a first-time level-up,} Nox replied calmly in the back of my mind.
'Oh.'
"What… happened to me?" she finally spoke up.
Her voice was softer than she meant it to be—almost uncertain.
I shifted my weight, walking over to one of the beds before sitting down. "Your body reset to its optimal genetic baseline. It's a standard effect of hitting Level 1." I reached into my bag. "Your wound—and any other health issues—should be gone."
I pulled out a bottle of water and tossed it to her.
She caught it effortlessly. No delay. No wasted motion. As if her reflexes had been upgraded along with everything else.
A moment passed as she stared at the bottle's label, then up at me.
"Yes. I don't feel the cut anymore… or the pain."
The glow in her irises slowly faded, the amethyst sheen collapsing back into their original dark hue.
"That's good," I said.
"You should check your status and notifications," I added. "First level up usually comes with some extra rewards."
I was just about to pull up my status screen when her voice brushed the air again—soft, almost hesitant.
"Aoki."
My focus snapped back to her. "Huh?"
She held my gaze this time, shoulders subtly squared as if bracing for something. "My name," she said, a little clearer, "is Aoki… Aoki Mochizuki."
I blinked.
For a moment, I just looked at her, the words slow to register. She shifted under my stare—not nervously, but with a kind of quiet resolve.
"I figured it would be rude," she added, "since you gave me yours… and you still didn't know mine."
My eyelid twitched.
Internally, I exhaled.
Lady, you literally dragged my name out of me with a knife to my throat!
But I kept that thought to myself.
"...Aoki, then," I said, giving a small nod.