The hum of the fluorescent lights echoed through the sterile laboratory, a sound Arin had long grown used to. Tonight, however, that hum felt sharper, heavier—like the prelude to a storm. The air smelled faintly of ethanol and ozone, a strange mix that tickled the edge of his nerves.
His gloved hands trembled as he adjusted the pipette. Drops of a shimmering, almost luminous liquid clung stubbornly to the tip. This was it. Years of research. Countless sleepless nights. A lifetime's obsession condensed into a single experiment.
Arin wasn't just a biologist. He was a dreamer, a rebel against the invisible walls of science. While others pursued safe questions, he chased forbidden ones: What makes life cling to the edge of death? Can a cell remember what it once was? Can humanity rewrite its very blueprint?
The answer was in the vial before him.
He muttered to himself, voice hoarse from exhaustion."Just one last test… and I'll prove them all wrong."
His colleagues had laughed. Some had warned him. Others had abandoned him. But the thought of giving up had never crossed his mind.
The liquid within the vial pulsed faintly, as though alive. Arin's eyes widened, a flicker of awe breaking through the fatigue. It's working.
He transferred the substance into the containment chamber, locking the mechanism with a hiss. The glass walls fogged, sensors flickering as the cells inside began to twist and multiply at an unnatural rate.
For a moment, triumph surged through him. His heart raced. His vision blurred with tears. I did it. I actually—
The alarms shattered the silence.A shrill, piercing wail that clawed through the room.
Red lights flashed violently. The containment chamber rattled as the cells inside surged, their glow intensifying. The reinforced glass began to fracture with spiderweb cracks.
"No… no, no, no!" Arin slammed the emergency override, but the system refused to respond. His hands flew over the console, desperation replacing precision. Data screens flooded with errors.
And then, silence.
The glass exploded outward in a blinding flash of light. A storm of shards and burning air knocked Arin to the floor. He felt the sting of cuts across his arms, the copper taste of blood filling his mouth.
But it wasn't the wounds that terrified him. It was the glow.
The liquid had spilled across the floor, seeping into his skin, sinking into his veins. It burned—not like fire, but like something ancient, primal, rewriting him from the inside.
His vision darkened. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, then faltered.
As the lab descended into chaos, Arin lay on the cold tiles, chest heaving. With the last fragments of his strength, he smiled bitterly.
"If this… is the price of discovery… then so be it."
His body stilled. The alarms faded into an eerie hush. And in that silence, something unearthly stirred within the remnants of his final experiment.
The biologist was dead.But his story had only just begun.