Ethan hit the floor hard, breath tearing out of him as if the air itself had punched his lungs empty. The lab lights stuttered on, off, on again each flicker sharpening the red-gold glow pouring from the containment pod. The crystalline core throbbed like a living heart, and with every pulse the hum in the walls deepened, slow and deliberate.
"Seth," Ethan croaked.
Seth was still on his knees.
His hands were braced against the metal grating, fingers digging in as though he were holding himself to the world by sheer force. The glow in his eyes hadn't faded. If anything, it had settled—focused. Controlled in the way a blade is controlled when it's finally been drawn.
"I didn't mean to," Seth said, voice tight, strained. "I just… it pulled. Like it recognized me."
The pod's surface spiderwebbed with hairline cracks, each one leaking threads of light. Ethan pushed himself upright, ignoring the ringing in his ears. "Back away. Now."
"I can't," Seth said quietly. "It's not holding me. I'm… holding it."
That was worse.
The lab's old speakers crackled, coughing out static before a voice slipped through—calm, curious, familiar in the wrong way.
"Remarkable," Fortea said.
Ethan spun.
She stood in the doorway, lab coat draped over her shoulders like she belonged here more than the dust and broken glass ever had. Her expression was soft, almost apologetic, but her eyes reflected the same glow as the core.
"You followed the hum," she continued. "Everyone does eventually. But you were faster than expected."
"Where's Erena?" Ethan demanded.
A pause. A fraction too long.
"Preparing," Fortea replied. "The field is unstable. Seth accelerated the cycle."
Seth laughed a short, humorless sound. "So that's what I am now. A schedule problem."
Fortea's gaze shifted to him, something like admiration flickering there. "You're a catalyst. The bloom recognizes trauma, adapts to it. Your blood already carried a curse—this only gave it a language."
The walls shuddered. Somewhere above them, a siren wailed, then cut abruptly, as if silenced mid-breath.
Ethan stepped between Fortea and Seth. "You're feeding students to this thing."
"No," Fortea said gently. "We're teaching them to survive the next phase."
"The hunting grounds," Ethan said. "The forest."
Her lips pressed together. "You've seen more than most."
The hum spiked.
Seth gasped, doubling over as black veins crawled up his forearms, then stopped—as if hitting an invisible boundary. He clenched his jaw, breathing through it. "Ethan… I can feel them. The students. Their intent. It's loud."
Ethan's heart sank. "Malice?"
"Yes," Seth said. "And hunger."
Fortea tilted her head. "You see? Evolution doesn't ask permission."
A metallic clang echoed down the corridor. Footsteps many of them approaching in perfect rhythm.
Fortea glanced back once. "They're coming. The Bloomkeepers."
"Then unlock the doors," Ethan snapped. "End this."
"I can't," she said. "Only Erena can sever the field. And she won't."
"Why?" Seth asked, forcing himself to his feet.
Fortea's voice dropped to a whisper. "Because if she does, the crystal collapses. And when it does… everyone bound to it dies."
The footsteps grew louder.
Ethan felt the weight of the choice settle in his chest, heavy and suffocating. "Then help us get him out. Now."
Fortea hesitated. For the first time, uncertainty cracked her calm. She looked at Seth not as a component, not as data, but as a person in pain.
"I can hide your signal," she said finally. "Briefly."
"That's not enough," Ethan said.
"It's all I have."
The door behind her burst inward.
Students flooded the lab eyes glassy, movements precise, skin faintly illuminated from beneath. They didn't run. They advanced.
Seth closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the glow had dimmed, compressed into something sharp.
"Ethan," he said evenly. "When I say move don't argue."
Before Ethan could respond, Seth slammed his palm against the floor.
The hum snapped.
A shockwave rippled outward, knocking the Bloomkeepers off their feet, lights bursting overhead. The containment pod screamed—metal warping, glass shattering—as the core flared violently.
Ethan grabbed Fortea's arm. "Now!"
She yanked a panel from the wall, exposing a narrow service tunnel. "This leads to the lower vents. Go!"
Seth staggered, but stayed upright. The veins receded slightly, smoke curling from his skin.
They ran.
Behind them, alarms erupted not sirens, but something deeper, older. The lab began to collapse inward, walls cracking as if the building itself were recoiling.
As they disappeared into the tunnel, Ethan looked back once.
Fortea stood amid the chaos, framed by red light, watching them go with an expression that looked dangerously close to regret.
The tunnel sealed shut.
Darkness swallowed them.
And far above, in the forest surrounding Point Veert, the hunting grounds awakened—every creature lifting its head as the bloom adjusted, recalibrated, and chose a new path.
The game had changed.