Malik crouched in the shadows of the junkyard, the cool night biting at his skin. His fingers brushing against the rough metal if discarded machinery, searching for anything of value. The city lights flickered in the distance, a constant reminder that the world had moved in without him.
The junkyard was his sanctuary, a chaotic maze if rusting debris where he could lose himself and forget, if only for a while, the harsh realities of life as an orphan. Tonight, however, something felt different. His instincts, honed by years of scavenging, told him there was something valuable hidden among the wreckage.
He froze as his hand touched something smooth and cold, unlike any metal he had encountered before. Malik's heart quickened as he cleared away the surrounding debris, revealing a small, sleek device. It was bo bigger than his palm, with strange, intricate markings etched on into its surface.
"What is this?" he whispered to himself, curiosity piqued. The device seemed ancient, a relic from a time long past. It's design was elegant and alien, completely unlike the crude utilitarian technology he was used to seeing.
Malik glanced around insuring he was still alone in the junkyard. With a deep breath, he pressed a button on the device. For a moment nothing happened. Then, without a warning, a searing pain shit through his hand, radiating up his arm and spreading through out his body.
He tried to scream, but no sound came out. His vision blurred, and he collapsed to his knees, clutching the device as if it were a lifeline. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt as though every cell in his body was being torn apart and being reassembled in an instant.
Memories of whispered rumors about illegal genetic tools surfaced in his mind. Devices that could unlock dormant genes but at a terrible cost. He had always dismissed them as urban legends, cautionary taleas told to keep people in line. But now, as his body convulsed with agony, he realized the truths behind these myths.
The pain seemed to last an eternity, but finally, it began to ebb. Malik lay on the ground, gasping for breath, his body drenched in sweat. The device lay next to him, it's markings glowing faintly before dimming into darkness.
With trembling hands, Malik's picked it up and and examined it again. This time it seemed inert, a harmless piece of metal. Whatever it had done to him was real.
Slowly, Malik pushed himself to his feet, every muscle protesting. He felt different_stronger, more aware of his surroundings. His thoughts, once a steady stream, now flowed at an incredible speed, each one clear and distinct. He looked around the junkyard, noticing details he had previously overlooked_the patterns of rust, the precise arrangement of debris, the gaunt hum of distant machinery.
He clenched his fists and to his shock he began to perceive things differently. His eye rolled to his side as a cylinder rolled down a mountain of scrap. He watched, mouth open in amazement, as the object seemed to move slower. He could analyze it's trajectory, predict its path and understand the mechanics behind it's motion_all in the blink of an eye.His brain processed information at an impossible rate, and he felt an intense clarity he had never experienced before.
"I'm thinking faster," he realized awe and excitement mingling in his voice. His enhanced cognition was staggering, yet he sensed that this was only the beginning. His brain, now unlocked, had vast potential waiting to be tapped.
As the reality of his situation sunk in, caution mixed with exhilaration, he had unlocked something extraordinary, but at what cost? The pain had been unbearable, and who knew what other consequences lay ahead?
Malik's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. He quickly hid the device in his jacket and ducked behind a large pile of scrap. Peering out, he saw a group of men entering the junkyard, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.
"Where is he?"one of them barked, his voice rough and authoritative. " He was seen around here."
Malik's heart pounded. He recognized the voice_ It was Harlan, a local thug for the syndicate that controlled this part of the city."How did they find me so fast," he cursed under his breath.
He needed to escape, but the junkyard was a maze, and the men were closing in. Malik Concentrated and his enhanced brain quickly calculated a plan. He observed the position of the men, the layout of the junkyard, and the available cover. He moved silently, his thoughts racing, mapping out the route with precision.
He picked up a small piece of metal and threw it towards a distant heep of debris. The clattering noise drew the men's attention, and they towards the sound.
"Over there," Harlan shouted, and the men scattered in persuit.
Seizing the opportunity, Malik slipped away navigating the labrinth of paths of the junkyard with newfound ease. He moved swiftly and silently, every sense heightened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Finally he emerged onto a backstreet, panting but unscathed. The city loomed ahead, a sprawling metropolis of dilapidated skyscrapers and flickering neon lights. Malik knew he couldn't be careless now; he needed to get as far away from here as possible. As he made his way through the dimly lit streets, Malik's mind raced. He had a general idea of what the device had done to him, but he needed an in_depth analysis to get the bigger picture. He knew he couldn't trust anyone_It wouldn't be the first time a random person disappeared let alone an orphan like him, Malik mused.
Arriving at a dilapidated street so dark not a speck of light could get through, his slender frame grabbed onto a pole, which he claimed easily with newfound ease. "I guess this isn't as bad as I thought," Malik smirked in satisfaction as he slipped through a window and landed in a dark room.
Malik maneuvered through the darkness; after all this had been his home for the last three years. He quickly found his target, and obviously worn_down matress in the far corner of the empty room. Feeling a rush of fatigue, Malik's slender frame stumbled over before collapsing on the matress. Unbeknownst to him, this night would prove to be full of surprises, as the changes to him were far from over.
Malik jolted awake with a start, the remnants of a restless night, still lingering in his mind. As he sat up in bed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different, something had changed.
Reaching his arms over his head, Malik felt his clothes constrict his body causing him to freeze.They no longer fit quite right. Frowning, he quickly removed his shirt exposing a sight that left him wondering if he was dreaming.
Where once there had been the scrawny outline of his slender frame was now replaced by a lean, toned physique. If one had never met him before, they would think this was how he'd always been. His limbs once wiry and delicate, now boasted defined muscle, stretching the fabric of h clothes tight against his body in a hugging manner.
Mouth open in disbelief, Malik plopped his legs over the edge of the bed and got up, towering over the room in a way he in never had never before. He had grown a few inches in the span of a single night, his limbs elongating until he stood at an impressive six feet in height, an impressive number for his age considering how malnourished he was.
With a sense of wonder downing on him, Malik fumbled his way to the broken mirror that hung on the wall, his heart pounding in his chest. As he caught sight of the figure staring right back at him, he couldn't help but gasp in astonishement.
Staring back at him was a figure he hardly recognized_a black male with features appearing more mature. His jawline was more pronounced, his cheekbones sharp against his skin, and his eyes held a charm that made him appear far more mature than his actual age.
But it wasn't just his physical appearance that had changed. As Malik studied his reflection, he noticed a fierceness in his gaze, a wariness born out of years spent surving the unforgiving streets of the lower district. But hidden in his gaze was a newfound self confidence that radiated in his aura.
As the realization of his transformation sunk in, Malik couldn't help but feel a surge of newfound energy condense within him.The world was a different place, and he was different too_a force to be reckoned with, capable of facing any newfound challenges that may come his way. That was only if he could first figure out what the hell had happened to him the previous night Malik thought to himself.
With a newfound sense if purpose feeding him, Malik hastily found a set of clothing that could fit his new build, a large jacket and extra long bagge jeans he had picked up at the junkyard previously before briskly making his way out into the streets, his steps quiet and reserved as a ghosts. He may not have understood the full extent of the changes that had occured within him but one thing was for certain_he had to remain cautious especially in this Godforsaken city.
Malik navigated the dilapidated streets of the lower district, his footsteps silent against the concrete pavement. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the narrow alleyways which he made sure to utilize in his journe, the sunlight Illuminating the faces of those who wandered aimlessly, their faces etched with exhaustion and despair.
As he made his way through the crowded marketplace, one of the few places in the lower district that was filled with a crowd, Malik's couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for those around him especially the kids. The lower district was a harsh environment, it's streets filled with the disenfranchised and the impressed, each one trying to survive in a world where their fates had already been decided for them.
Everywhere his gaze loomed, Malik saw evidence of the suffering that had plagued the lower district_the beggars huddled in the corners, arms outstretched begging for money while others drowned themselves in addiction to escape reality while the children played amidst the abandoned buildings, their laughter tinged with echoes of a life they would never escape, trying to distract themselves from the pain of living every single day.
It was a cold reminder of life in the lower district, a stark contrast to the gleaming towers of the advanced city that loomed in the distance. Malik shook his thoughts of the negativity, for though the lower district was a place of hardship and struggle, it was also a place of familiarity_ the place where he grew up and so Malik couldn't bring himself to hate it completely.
As he rounded the corner, Malik eyes fell upon the familiar sight of a nondescript building nestled amidst the chaos of the lower district. To the people of the lower district, this was a sanctuary to escape the struggles they faced daily in hell. And there standing in the the doorway was the figure herself_a woman whose kindness and compassion knew no bounds.
Her eyes lit up in recognition as she spotted Malik acrosss the road a smile tugging at her lips as he made his was across the Street."It's been a while," she exclaimed before gesturing for him to follow her in.As Malik followed her through the narrow hallway of the underground clinic, he did his best to suppress his heightened senses. The dimly lit corridor was filled with makeshift medical equipment and a faint smell of antiseptic—a small improvement compared to the sight for sore eyes that were the streets outside. One might even call it a sanctuary.
She led him to a small, cluttered office and told him to take a seat. As he settled into the chair, he noticed the surprise in her expression as she took in his changed appearance, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face as she studied him from head to toe.
"It's been a while. You look different," Dr. Lila quipped, intrigue written all over her face. Wordlessly, Malik reached into his pocket and pulled out the object he had found—the device that had done something to him—and handed it to the doctor. As Dr. Lila picked it up, her fingers traced the intricate marks etched on its surface. Malik took the opportunity to observe her.
Her name was Dr. Lila Hart. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with sharp, intelligent eyes and an air of mystery. No one knew where she came from or why she decided to come to the desolate lower city, but her love for helping the underprivileged was undeniable. Her past was a subject of speculation, but her good deeds were enough to cover any doubts people had about her. A flash of understanding finally appeared in her eyes as she gasped in exclamation.
"This is a gene sync. Its purpose is to unlock the genetic potential of humans, but I've never seen one like this before," Dr. Lila mumbled to herself, her expression shifting between surprise and contemplation as she studied the device. Placing the object on a desk, she cast a glance at Malik, giving him one more deep look. "Where did you get this?" she finally questioned, worry apparent in her voice. Malik hesitated for a few seconds, debating internally whether to tell her or not until ultimately he sighed and explained the events at the junkyard up until he awoke that day. He knew she was his best bet at understanding the situation.
Dr. Lila listened to his story with utmost concentration until he finished. "Does anyone else know?" she questioned again. He assured her that he had been careful, which earned a sigh of relief from her, easing the tense air.
"This is a gene sync," Dr. Lila explained, her earlier mumbling now directed at Malik slowly and carefully, ensuring he had a basic understanding of its functions. She paused, her gaze intense as she continued, "Unlocking hidden genes is incredibly rare. Only a few humans are able to do it, and it's usually seen in the major powerful families. It's almost unheard of for someone with no family background to unlock their gene potential." She slowly explained, now viewing Malik in a new light. Pointing at the tool, she continued, "I've never seen this version, but it's most likely an illegal trial gene sync, which usually have close to a zero survival rate. You are incredibly lucky to have survived the genetic modification; most people wouldn't have." Dr. Lila smiled, honestly impressed he hadn't died.
Malik took his time to digest all he had been told. Dr. Lila didn't disturb him as she understood he must be feeling overwhelmed at that moment. She knew she would be if she were in his shoes. Only God knew what was running through his mind right now. Humans had developed gene modification tools, and there were more people out in the world like him—people with unique abilities? That aside, only a rare few could have their genes unlocked. Did that mean his parents must have been from one of those families? Malik felt his heartbeat race at that moment. He had never met his parents. The only parts of his life he remembered were from when he was about six years old; the rest were a mystery. Although his brain could recall almost all his past experiences, he still couldn't remember anything before he awoke in the lower district at six. Malik felt a new sense of purpose envelop him as his gaze grew determined. He was going to try his best to unravel all these mysteries. I guess I should thank this device, Malik silently mused as he turned his attention back to Dr. Lila, only to see a slightly crazed expression on her face, like she couldn't wait to dissect him and uncover what he could do, causing his skin to shiver with fear.
Laughing, Dr. Lila pointed to the door, saying they should head to the lab so she could see what he could do. This earned a smile of anticipation from him as he, too, wanted to uncover his hidden abilities.
Dr Dr. Hart leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on Malik. "Your transformation is remarkable, Malik," she began "Your physical fitness has exceeded human limits and is on superhuman levels. Your muscles, bones, and even your cardiovascular system have been enhanced to a point where you can perform feats far beyond any ordinary human."
Malik nodded, absorbing the information. He felt the strength coursing through his body, the power in every minute movement. But it was the changes in his mind that fascinated him the most.
"And your cognitive functions," Dr. Hart continued pointing at an x-ray of his brain, "have been significantly enhanced. Your brain processes information at an extraordinary speed. Your memory, perception, and problem-solving abilities are all far beyond what they were before, it's like your very own supercomputer."
Malik's thoughts raced as she spoke. He recalled the precise layout of the junkyard, the patterns in the chaos, the exact words and intonations of conversations long past. It was like a veil had been lifted, revealing a world of clarity and detail he had never known but was this his limit he wondered in anticipation.
"But," Dr. Hart continued her tone growing serious, "there's something you need to understand. The Federation keeps tabs on all the Enhanced humans on Earth. They have strict regulations and constant surveillance. Any unauthorized enhancement is met with severe consequences, even death is getting off lightly.
Malik's face remained stoic as he wasn't the least surprised on being told how the Federation handled it's operations.He stood in place wondering how he'd escape their surveillance.However," Dr. Hart finally spoke up, "There's a way to avoid immediate detection. The upper city has resources and connections that can provide some cover for a while. I can take you there." Malik raised his head in hesitation, his mind racing. The upper city was a world away from the lower district, a place of privilege and power. But it was also a place of danger, where the Federation's reach was even more pronounced.
Seeing the conflict in his eyes, Dr. Hart added, "It's your best chance, Malik. We can find a way to keep you safe, to help you understand and control your new abilities. After a moment's contemplation, Malik nodded. "All right," he said. "I'll go with you."This earned a smile of satisfaction from the doctor. "We leave at daybreak tomorrow, meet me here," the doctor walked Malik out of the building leaving him her last remarks.
Malik walked the streets, his mind lost in the tumultuous events of the past two days. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions and revelations. He analyzed everything, tracing it back to the beginning at the junkyard. As his thoughts deepened, his gaze grew colder.
As dusk fell, a shadow moved through the dark, rundown city. Each step was filled with cold precision and purpose. The figure stopped atop a high building, peering into a dilapidated warehouse where a few figures busied themselves. Eyes narrowing, the figure vanished into the night.
Inside the warehouse, Harlan and his goons were in high spirits. They had just finished a big job and were celebrating, popping bottles and making noise. Suddenly, the lights went out, causing the five men to pause and wonder what was happening.
A loud screech pierced the silence as one of Harlan's goons screamed in agony, his cries abruptly cut off. Panic set in among the remaining men. They stood, weapons ready, eyes darting around in the darkness. Another scream echoed, and they fired blindly into the direction it came from, their bullets lighting up the dark with flashes of muzzle fire.
When the chaos subsided, only one goon remained. The lights flickered back on, revealing Malik standing a short distance away, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of Harlan's men. Harlan's eyes widened in horror as he recognized his attacker.
"It's you," he stammered, fear lacing his voice. This was the kid they had terrorized for years, the one they had chased down in the junkyard. But how had he become so strong? His mind raced, searching for answers.
Trying to calm himself, Harlan reminded himself that he was a member of the underground. He raised his gun, confident that no human could outrun a bullet. A smile crept across his face as he aimed at Malik, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Time seemed to slow as Malik watched the bullet hurtle toward him. With newfound clarity and speed, he dodged the bullet with ease. In an instant, he closed the distance between them, his movements a blur.
Before Harlan could react, Malik's knife flashed, slitting his throat in one swift motion. He watched, emotionless, as the life drained from the man who had once been his tormentor. Malik felt no remorse, only a cold satisfaction. Perhaps it was a side effect of his new abilities, but it was a change he found disturbingly inhuman.
Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Malik swiftly left the crime scene. As he disappeared into the night, he knew no one would remember what transpired here today. It was a necessary step, a way to close a chapter of his life before moving on to the unknown challenges ahead.