Jack awoke strapped to a cold metal chair.
His arms and legs were bound tight. Bright white lights buzzed overhead, making his eyes ache. The bullet wound on his side was crudely stitched, burning with each breath.
A man in a white lab coat stood nearby, adjusting a tray of equipment. Two guards flanked him with rifles in hand, helmets hiding their faces.
"You're awake," the man said, glancing over. "Good. Let's begin."
Jack tried to speak, but his mouth was dry. All he could whisper was, "Where... am I?"
The man didn't answer. Instead, he picked up a small device — a silver cylinder with blinking red lights and a long metal injector. Jack's heart dropped.
The guards moved. One grabbed his head and forced it to the side.
> No, no—
Click.
Pain exploded through his neck as the injector punched beneath the skin. Jack screamed. His vision flashed white.
"You've been implanted with a compliance chip," the man explained coolly. "Try to run, kill the wrong target, or disobey... and it'll light you up from the inside."
Jack panted, eyes wide with panic.
"What... what do you want from me?"
The man finally turned to him fully. "We want to know what you are."
"I don't understand," Jack said, voice shaking.
"Your power," the man said, slower this time. "What is it?"
"I told you," Jack pleaded. "I don't know."
The man's face darkened. "Wrong answer."
He picked up a thick syringe filled with black fluid. No label. No hesitation.
Jack's eyes widened. "Wait—"
Stab.
He didn't even finish the word before it pierced his arm and emptied into his veins.
Fire.
Real, burning, screaming pain tore through his body. He arched against the chair, gasping, choking, his body convulsing under the straps. His heartbeat raced until it felt like it would rip through his chest.
Jack screamed until his throat went raw.
The air around him grew heavy.
Something inside him screamed back.
> And then the lights flickered.
> And the room got cold.
> And Jack's eyes turned red — glowing, cracked with pulsing red veins down his face and arms.
The temperature dropped as black mist bled from his skin.
The guards raised their rifles. "Sir, something's happening—"
Too late.
A shadow slammed down from the ceiling with a wet, screeching snarl.
It moved so fast it was a blur — slicing through one guard's neck with a scythe-shaped arm, the other barely getting a shot off before his chest was split open.
The monster dropped to the ground in front of Jack.
Scythe.
It stood like a twisted predator — tall, lean, almost skeletal. Its body was black and bone-white, its arms ending in massive curved blades, gleaming with blood. Its back arched like a mantis, muscles twitching with unnatural speed.
Its tail lashed out, grabbing the dying soldier by the leg with razor-like edges — then pulled.
Snap.
The man screamed — then didn't.
The scientist backed into the wall, trembling. "Wh-What is that?!"
Jack could barely speak. His eyes still glowed, tears running down his cheeks from the pain. The mist poured from his skin like steam from boiling blood.
"I... I didn't mean to..."
Scythe turned to Jack.
It tilted its head. The face wasn't human. No eyes. Just a smooth surface with a long slit where a mouth should be — and it smiled.
It didn't attack Jack.
It protected him.
> It was his.
The scientist lunged for the emergency button — but Scythe was faster.
The last thing he saw was the glint of the monster's blades.
---
Outside the observation room, behind bulletproof glass, a woman in a black suit watched with her arms crossed.
"He summoned it," she said.
The man next to her nodded. "He doesn't even know how he did it."
"Good," she said. "Shock him. Take the monster offline. Then move him to isolation."
---
Jack didn't even see the shock rod coming. A jolt tore through his chest, and the last thing he saw was Scythe screeching, claws raised — then vanishing into mist as everything went black.