Chapter 4: The Test
Sleep didn't come easy on the concrete cot. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the taser's electricity coursing through my body again. The memory of dying—really dying—was harder to shake off the second time around.
But what disturbed me more was how quickly I'd recovered. After drowning, it had taken hours to feel normal again. This time, I'd woken up feeling refreshed, like I'd had the best sleep of my life instead of being electrocuted to death.
*Each time you die and come back, you get stronger.*
Agent Reyes' words echoed in my mind. Was that what was happening to me? Was each death making the next resurrection easier?
The sound of locks disengaging interrupted my thoughts. The door swung open, revealing a different person this time—a tall man in military fatigues with sergeant stripes on his sleeve. His face looked like it had been carved from granite, all hard angles and suspicious eyes.
"Chen. On your feet."
I sat up slowly, my muscles still feeling loose and relaxed despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. "Where are we going?"
"Testing. Move."
He stepped aside, gesturing for me to exit the room. Two more soldiers flanked the doorway, both armed with what looked like high-tech weapons instead of regular firearms. The message was clear: don't try anything stupid.
The hallway beyond my cell was as sterile and unwelcoming as the room itself. Concrete walls, fluorescent lighting, and the constant hum of ventilation systems. We passed several other doors, all sealed tight, and I wondered if there were other prisoners—other mutants—locked away behind them.
"How many others are here?" I asked as we walked.
The sergeant didn't answer.
We took an elevator down three floors, then walked through a maze of corridors until we reached a set of double doors marked with warning signs I couldn't quite read. The sergeant pressed his palm against a scanner, and the doors hissed open.
The room beyond was massive—easily the size of a basketball court, with a ceiling that disappeared into shadows above. Most of the floor space was taken up by what looked like an obstacle course from hell. Spinning blades, electrified barriers, pits filled with spikes, and walls that moved at unpredictable intervals.
Agent Reyes stood on an observation platform overlooking the course, her tablet in hand as always. She smiled when she saw me.
"Good morning, Alex. I trust you slept well?"
"Like the dead," I said dryly.
Her smile widened. "How appropriate. Today we're going to test the limits of your abilities. See exactly what you're capable of."
I looked at the obstacle course again, understanding dawning. "You want me to run through that death trap."
"Oh, it's not just a death trap. It's specifically designed to kill you in as many different ways as possible." She gestured to various sections of the course. "Drowning, electrocution, crushing, piercing, burning, freezing, toxic gas exposure—we've covered all the basics."
My stomach twisted. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you'll be sedated and dragged through it unconscious. At least this way, you'll learn something from the experience."
The casual way she discussed my death—multiple deaths—made me want to punch her perfectly composed face. But I was surrounded by armed guards, and violence would only make things worse.
For now.
"Fine," I said. "But I want something in return."
"You're hardly in a position to negotiate."
"Aren't I? You need to know what I can do, and I'm the only one who can show you. So here's the deal: I'll run your murder maze, but afterward, you answer my questions. About what I am, about what's happening to me, about what you really want."
Agent Reyes considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Acceptable. But only if you complete the entire course."
"Deal."
She pressed a button on her tablet, and the obstacle course hummed to life. Blades began spinning, electricity crackled between metal bars, and the air filled with the sound of grinding machinery.
"Whenever you're ready," she said.
I walked to the starting line, my heart pounding despite my attempt to stay calm. The first obstacle was simple enough—a narrow beam suspended over a pit of spikes. Easy to cross if you had good balance. Easy to fall and die if you didn't.
*Here goes nothing.*
I stepped onto the beam, arms outstretched for balance. It was only about ten feet long, but it felt like walking a tightrope over the Grand Canyon. Halfway across, the beam suddenly tilted to one side, trying to dump me into the spikes below.
I threw myself forward, diving for the platform on the other side. My chest hit the edge hard enough to knock the wind out of me, but I managed to haul myself up before the beam could tilt back and knock me loose.
"Interesting," I heard Agent Reyes say through speakers mounted on the walls. "Most subjects fall on the first obstacle. Your reflexes are already enhanced."
The second obstacle was a tunnel filled with spinning blades. I could see the exit on the other side, but getting there meant timing my movements perfectly to avoid being chopped into pieces.
I took a deep breath and sprinted forward, ducking under the first blade as it whistled over my head. The second one came from the side, and I had to throw myself against the tunnel wall to avoid it. The third—
I wasn't fast enough. The blade caught me across the stomach, slicing through skin and muscle like I was made of paper. Blood sprayed across the tunnel walls as I collapsed, my hands pressed against the wound.
The pain was incredible, white-hot agony that made thinking impossible. I could feel my life bleeding out through my fingers, feel my vision starting to tunnel.
*This is it. Death number three.*
But even as the darkness closed in, I felt something else. A tingling sensation in my stomach, like tiny needles working under my skin. The bleeding slowed, then stopped entirely. The pain began to fade.
I looked down at my hands, expecting to see blood, but they were clean. I lifted my shirt, searching for the wound that should have killed me.
Nothing. Not even a scar.
"Remarkable," Agent Reyes' voice echoed through the tunnel. "You didn't just survive that cut—you adapted to it. I'm reading enhanced muscle density and skin thickness in the affected area. You're literally evolving in real time."
I stood up on shaking legs, staring at where the blade had nearly cut me in half. The spinning death trap was still active, but somehow it didn't seem as threatening anymore. I could see the pattern now, the timing of each blade's rotation.
I made it through the rest of the tunnel without another scratch.
The third obstacle was a pit filled with electrified water. There were stepping stones scattered across the surface, but they were irregularly spaced and some of them sparked with electrical discharge.
I'd already died from electricity once. My body had adapted to survive that.
*Time to test the theory.*
Instead of trying to hop from stone to stone, I jumped directly into the water.
The electrical shock hit me like a freight train, every muscle in my body seizing simultaneously. But this time, instead of stopping my heart, the electricity seemed to flow through me and dissipate harmlessly. It hurt—God, it hurt—but it didn't kill me.
I waded through the electrified water like it was a normal swimming pool, ignoring the crackling energy dancing across my skin.
"Impossible," someone whispered over the speakers.
But I was just getting started.
The fourth obstacle tried to crush me with hydraulic pistons. They slammed down with enough force to pancake a normal person, but my bones didn't break. My enhanced durability absorbed the impact, and I crawled through the narrow gap between crushing walls.
The fifth obstacle filled a sealed chamber with toxic gas. I held my breath as long as I could, but eventually, I had to breathe. The poison burned my lungs and made my vision blur, but my body filtered out the toxins faster than they could accumulate.
By the time I reached the end of the course, I felt like a different person. Stronger, faster, more resilient. Each challenge had pushed my body to adapt, to evolve, to become something beyond human limitations.
Agent Reyes was waiting for me at the finish line, her expression a mixture of amazement and hunger.
"Incredible," she breathed. "In thirty minutes, you've undergone more evolutionary adaptation than most species experience in millennia."
I wiped sweat from my forehead, surprised to find that I wasn't even breathing hard. "Now you answer my questions."
"Of course. You've earned it." She gestured to a nearby chair. "What would you like to know?"
"Everything. What I am, what you want from me, and why you're really keeping me here."
She sat down across from me, suddenly looking older than her years. "You're a mutant, Alex. But not just any mutant. You're what we call an Omega-level threat—a being with the potential for unlimited power growth."
"Omega-level?"
"The highest classification we have. Mutants capable of affecting change on a global or even cosmic scale. There are fewer than a dozen confirmed Omega-level mutants in the world, and most of them are either dead or in hiding."
My mouth went dry. "And you think I'm one of them?"
"I know you are. Your power isn't just resurrection or adaptation—it's evolution itself. Every time you face a threat, your body doesn't just survive it, it becomes immune to it. And those immunities stack, creating exponential growth in your capabilities."
She pulled up a chart on her tablet, showing readings from my run through the obstacle course.
"When you started, your physical parameters were slightly above human normal. By the end, you were registering strength levels comparable to enhanced soldiers, reaction times in the top percentile of human performance, and damage resistance that would make you bulletproof."
"All from thirty minutes?"
"All from thirty minutes of controlled death and adaptation. Imagine what you could become after a year of training. A decade. A century."
The implications hit me like a physical blow. If she was right, I wasn't just immortal—I was becoming something beyond human comprehension.
"Now do you understand why we need you?" Agent Reyes leaned forward, her eyes intense. "There are other Omega-level mutants out there. Beings who could end civilization with a thought. You might be the only thing capable of stopping them."
"Or I might become the thing that needs stopping."
"That's a risk we're willing to take. The question is: are you?"
I stared at her, processing everything she'd told me. Power beyond imagination, but at the cost of becoming a weapon for people who saw me as nothing more than a useful tool.
"I need time to think."
"Time is a luxury we don't have. There's a situation developing that requires immediate attention. A mutant in Boston has been killing civilians, and conventional forces can't touch him." She stood up, smoothing down her suit. "This is your chance to prove that you can be a hero instead of just another monster."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then a lot of innocent people are going to die while you sit in your cell, wondering if you could have made a difference."
The manipulation was obvious, but that didn't make it less effective. People were dying, and I might be able to save them.
But was I ready to become the government's attack dog?
*Guess I'm about to find out.*