Cold air bit into his skin, sharp as teeth. Branches lashed at his arms, his face, but he barely felt them. His pulse hammered in his ears, drowning out everything else.
Run. Just keep running.
The deeper he went, the quieter it became. No alarms, no voices, just the crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the whisper of wind through the trees.
His legs gave out first.
Kai stumbled, crashing against the rough bark of an ancient oak. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving behind something worse—dread, thick and suffocating.
And then, like an old wound reopening, the voice returned.
"You asked for survival. I answered."
Low, smooth, and almost organic, like the rustle of leaves or the creak of bending branches.
Kai's fingers dug into the dirt. Not now!
"What the hell was that back there?" Kai hissed, pressing a hand to his temple. "My arm—what did you do to me?"
Silence. Then, the voice again, calm as still water:
"You already know."
Kai exhaled sharply. No more games. "Tell me the truth. Right now."
A pause. Then, almost reluctantly: "You are bonded to me. You always have been."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
"Since the fire," the voice continued. "Since the night you called for help, and I answered."
---
Fire.
The memory crashed over him, sudden and brutal.
Screams. Smoke so thick it choked the air. Raiders in grotesque plague masks, moving through the village like shadows.
His mother's hands, shoving him down—down into the dark, into the narrow root tunnel beneath their hut.
"Don't make a sound, Kai. No matter what."
He remembered lying there, trembling, dirt pressing into his mouth. Remembered whispering to himself, half-delirious with fear.
And then—movement. Something alive in the dark beside him.
Something that answered.
"You are afraid," it had murmured, the first time he ever heard the voice. "I can help."
Back then, he'd thought it was just his mind breaking. A hallucination or atrick of the trauma.
But it had been real. It had always been real.
The nightmares and the instincts. The way his body moved faster than it should in fights, the way he knew things he shouldn't.
It wasn't just PTSD.
It wasn't just grief.
It was it—the parasite. The thing living inside him, woven into his blood, his bones, his genes.
It wasn't just saving me now. It's been saving me all along.
Or maybe… shaping him.
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
A memory surfaced—Dr. Lorenz, the school psychologist, leaning back in his chair with that infuriatingly calm expression.
"Kai, your symptoms—the nightmares, the detachment—they're classic signs of trauma. But the hallucinations? The voices? That's… unusual."
Unusual. Yeah, no kidding.
Lorenz had suggested sending him away, some remote branch of the Vogel Clan in the Alps. "A quieter life might help."
Kai had refused. He'd thought the man was just another adult who didn't *get* it.
But now?
Now he wondered if Lorenz had been onto something. Just not in the way either of them expected.
The parasite wasn't a hallucination.
But the grief? The fear?
That was all his.
And somehow, that was worse.
Kai collapsed against a moss-covered log, his breath ragged. His hands shook as he turned them over, watching the last of the black veins recede beneath his skin. The bone ridges along his arms sank back, leaving only faint pink marks that faded within seconds.
It's gone.
But the voice in his head didn't let him relax.
"It won't last," it murmured, almost amused. "You know that."
Kai gritted his teeth. Shut up.
He didn't have the energy to argue. Not when his body still felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together wrong.
The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his thoughts. Boots crushing dry leaves and the snap of a twig. Someone was coming.
Kai tensed, ready to bolt—but then a familiar voice called out.
"Kai?"
Aria stepped into the clearing, her dark hair tangled from running, her chest rising and falling too fast. She looked… worried.
Of course she is. You just vanished like a lunatic.
"You okay?" she asked, stopping a few feet away. "You just ran—"
Kai forced a laugh, rough and unconvincing. "Yeah."
Aria studied him, her dark eyes sharp. She didn't believe him. But she didn't push either.
Instead, she sat down beside him, close enough to matter but not close enough to touch. Just… there.
And for some reason, that made his chest ache.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Then, softly, Aria broke the silence.
"Some of the staff saw flashes near the breach," she said. "A creature got through. Maybe a wild one."
Kai's fingers twitched. They saw something. But do they know it was me?
Aria hesitated before adding, "There's a rumor going around. They're saying one of the students might've… mutated." She glanced at him. "That's crazy, right?"
Kai looked away. Don't ask me that. Please don't ask me that.
Aria exhaled, shifting closer. "You don't have to pretend you're okay," she murmured. "I know people think you're broken. But I don't." A pause. "You're not scary, Kai."
You're wrong, he thought. You have no idea.
The moment shattered when Yona burst through the underbrush like a hurricane, tripping spectacularly over a root and nearly flattening Aria in the process.
"ARE YOU ALIVE?!" she shrieked, flailing before catching herself. The second she spotted Kai, she lunged at him, wrapping him in a crushing hug. "Dude, I thought you exploded or something!"
Kai stiffened, half-expecting her to recoil—to feel the wrongness under his skin and pull away. But she didn't.
Yona followed behind, her expression unreadable as usual. "We've got to move," she said, scanning the trees. "There are patrol drones in the area."
Kai's stomach dropped.
They're looking for me.
Yona filled them in as they moved.
A student had gone missing after the breach. The official story? Possible mutation from Rift exposure.
"They're keeping it quiet," Yona said, her voice low. "No names or anything. Just a warning to report anything… unusual."
They don't know it was me.
Yona, ever the optimist, cracked a joke about secret government experiments. Aria stayed silent, her gaze flicking to Kai every so often.
And Lina? Lina watched him like she was putting together a puzzle.
As they walked back toward the Institute, Kai's mind spiraled. They'd been right beside him when it happened. What if they'd seen? What if he'd hurt them?
He nodded along to Lani's jokes, forcing a smile when needed. But inside, the guilt festered.
Because the worst part wasn't the lies. It was knowing that one day, he might not be able to hide it anymore.
And when that day came—
They'll run. And they'll be right to.
---
The checkpoint guards barely glanced at them—just two tired soldiers in Wolfram fatigues, their rifles slung lazily over their shoulders. One yawned as he waved them through.
"Evacuation status?"
"Held back for cleanup," Yona answered smoothly, flashing a security badge Kai hadn't even known she had.
The soldier shrugged. "Dorms are open. Stay inside."
No further questions. Kai exhaled, relief and guilt twisting together in his gut.
The campus was eerily still. Most students were still locked in the underground shelters, waiting for the all-clear. The usual hum of voices, the distant laughter from open windows—gone. Only the wind moved through the empty quad, rustling the banners strung between lampposts.
"I need to rest," Kai muttered, already stepping away before anyone could respond.
No one stopped him.
The door clicked shut behind him, sealing him in silence.
His dorm was small—barely more than a bed, a desk, and a narrow wardrobe. The walls were blank except for a single poster, its edges frayed from years of peeling tape: the cover of some old sci-fi novel about a man who wakes up with a monster inside him.
Ironic.
Kai didn't bother changing. He just sat on the edge of his bed, the fabric of his torn uniform stiff with dried sweat and dirt. The adrenaline had long since faded, leaving behind a hollow exhaustion.
His reflection stared back at him from the darkened window—pale, bruised under the eyes, lips pressed into a thin line.
Is that still me?
The thoughts came like a flood.
I should have left when Lorenz told me.
The mountains, the Vogel kin, and aquiet life where no one would notice if something inside him changed.
But he hadn't. He'd stayed and he had to pay for the consequences. And now—
I can't be with them.
Not like this. Not when every second felt like borrowed time.
A darker thought slithered in: I should've let that thing kill me. The moment it formed, he recoiled. But it lingered, ugly and undeniable.
A pulse. Faint, but unmistakable—like a second heartbeat buried deep in his chest.
"You survived because of me," the voice murmured, smooth as oil. "Don't waste that."
Kai's fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pressing hard against his sternum, as if he could dig the thing out with his nails.
I am not you.
You are not me.
You don't get to decide who I become.
Silence. Then, almost amused: "We'll see."
He lay back, staring at the ceiling. The pillow was damp with sweat, but he didn't move. Sleep wouldn't come.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again—the black veins spiderwebbing down his arms, the bone ridges splitting his skin. The way his body had moved without *him*, like a puppet with its strings cut.
And worse—
Aria's face, twisted in horror. Yona's stumbling back, her laughter dying in her throat. Lina's knife already in her hand, because of course she'd be the first to strike.
The dread coiled tighter, a weight on his ribs, until breathing felt like drowning. Outside, the first light of dawn crept over the windowsill.
Kai didn't sleep.