The subway tunnel was too quiet.
Ethan's heartbeat filled the silence, every pulse echoing like a drum inside his skull. His body hadn't stopped trembling since the Core revealed itself. No matter how tightly he clenched his fists, the faint glow beneath his skin pulsed, betraying him.
He wanted to believe it was a nightmare. A fever dream. Something that would break if he just forced his eyes open hard enough.
But the smell of blood in the air… the sting of metal and ash on his tongue… the memory of that creature bursting like rotten fruit when he clenched his hand…
It was real. All of it.
Selene stood a few paces away, blade loose at her side, calm in a way Ethan envied and feared. She hadn't spoken since her warning: "Control it, or it will eat you alive."
Ethan pressed a palm against the damp wall of the tunnel, forcing his breath steady. "I can't stay here. Not with—"
The sound cut him off.
A wet shuffle. A guttural snarl.
Something else was in the tunnel.
Selene's head tilted, her hand tightening around her blade. "One's still breathing."
Ethan's stomach dropped. "What?"
She didn't answer. She didn't need to.
The shadows at the far end of the tunnel shifted, a low rasp vibrating through the still air. Then it crawled into view.
The mutant was half-broken from her earlier strike, one leg dragging uselessly behind it, black ichor leaking from deep wounds. But its eyes—sickly yellow, glowing faintly in the dark—locked onto Ethan with unrelenting hunger.
It was dying. But it wasn't finished.
Ethan stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat. His body screamed to run. But the Core…
The Core whispered.
> "Weak prey. Take it. Feed."
His chest tightened, a war waged inside his ribs. He shook his head violently. "No. I'm not doing this. I'm not—"
The mutant hissed, dragging itself faster, claws scraping sparks across concrete.
Selene didn't move. She didn't even raise her blade. She simply watched.
"Why aren't you killing it?!" Ethan shouted, panic rising like fire.
Her gaze never wavered. "Because this one is yours."
The words hit harder than the screeches above.
Mine.
Ethan's throat closed. He stumbled backward another step, but the Core's whispers grew louder, deeper, more insistent.
> "Fight."
"Kill."
"Feed."
His skin burned. The crimson veins beneath his arms lit like molten rivers, pulsing with unbearable pressure. It felt as if his own blood was boiling, begging for release.
The mutant lunged.
Ethan's body moved before his mind could catch up. His arm shot forward, the Core seizing control, crimson light flaring through his palm. Invisible claws lashed out, wrapping around the mutant midair.
It shrieked, convulsing violently as the unseen grip crushed bone and muscle. Ethan gasped, his entire body trembling under the force coursing through him. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him. And yet—
The Core roared inside his mind:
> "YES. TAKE IT. TEAR IT OPEN."
Ethan squeezed his fist.
The mutant screamed one last time—then ruptured.
Black ichor exploded across the tunnel walls, raining down in a grotesque storm. Fragments of flesh hit the ground with wet thuds. The stench of iron and rot filled Ethan's lungs, choking him.
He collapsed to his knees, bile burning his throat. His hands shook violently as he stared at them, crimson light fading from his veins.
"No…" His voice cracked, broken. "I didn't… I didn't want to—"
But the Core's voice overrode his horror, smooth and satisfied:
> [Vital Energy absorbed.]
[Host synchronization: 97%.]
[Ability strength increased: Crimson Grasp.]
A rush slammed through him like liquid fire in his veins. His exhaustion vanished. His muscles thrummed with raw energy. For a fleeting moment, Ethan felt unstoppable.
And that terrified him more than the gore staining the floor.
He bent forward, clutching his chest, a strangled sob tearing from his throat. "What is happening to me?"
Selene finally moved. Her boots echoed softly as she approached, stopping just short of him. She looked down at the twitching remains of the mutant, then at Ethan, her expression unreadable.
"That was your first kill," she said simply.
He looked up at her, vision blurring with tears he hadn't realized were falling. "Don't you get it? I didn't choose to—"
"Yes, you did." Her words cut like steel. "Maybe not with your mind. But with your blood. The Core doesn't move without the Host's will. Some part of you wanted this."
"No," Ethan whispered, shaking his head. "No, I'm not like that. I don't— I'm not—"
Her eyes softened for just a fraction of a second. "That's what they all say at the beginning."
The subway shuddered again, distant roars vibrating through the ceiling. Ethan barely heard them. His entire world had narrowed to the weight in his veins, the lingering echo of power, the haunting truth of what he had just done.
The Core whispered one last time before silence reclaimed the tunnel:
> "More."
Ethan closed his eyes, shuddering, and realized with a hollow dread that this was only the beginning.
Ethan's breath rattled in his lungs, uneven and shallow, as if the act of breathing itself had become foreign. His hands were still slick with gore, the black ichor clinging stubbornly between his fingers like tar. He rubbed them against his jeans, frantic, desperate to scrub the filth away, but it only smeared darker.
His stomach lurched. He doubled over and vomited onto the cracked subway floor. Bitter bile mixed with the stench of blood until the air itself seemed to choke him.
Selene didn't flinch. Didn't move. She only watched, eyes sharp and steady, as if this grotesque ritual was inevitable.
"You'll get used to it." Her tone was flat, matter-of-fact, like she was commenting on the weather rather than the carnage.
Ethan whipped his head up, eyes wild. "Get used to it? I just—" His voice cracked, raw. "I just tore something apart with my bare hands. I felt it die inside me. You think I can ever get used to that?"
Selene's gaze didn't waver. "Yes."
The word dropped like a stone in his chest. He stared at her, shaking, trying to see if there was even a flicker of humanity in her expression. If there was regret, or pity, or the faintest hint of a soul left.
There wasn't.
And that terrified him more than the Core.
The crimson glow had dimmed beneath his skin, but it hadn't vanished. It lingered faintly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat, reminding him that it was still there, waiting. He pressed his hand against his chest, digging his nails into his shirt, as though he could rip the parasite out by force.
"Get out of me," he whispered hoarsely. "Get out."
The Core pulsed in response, mocking him with warmth.
> [Integration: irreversible.]
[Warning: further resistance may result in cardiac collapse.]
Ethan's vision blurred red as the system text bled across it. He clenched his jaw, fury boiling beneath his fear. "You're lying," he hissed. "You have to be lying—"
Selene crouched down in front of him, so close he could see the faint flecks of silver in her gray eyes. "It isn't lying," she said quietly. "The Core doesn't lie. It doesn't need to. It only takes."
Her words cut deeper than any blade.
Ethan's throat burned. He wanted to scream, to fight, to claw his way free of this nightmare. But beneath it all, he couldn't deny the truth that haunted him more than the gore at his feet:
For one moment—just one—when that rush of energy surged through his veins, when his body hummed with power… it had felt good.
Addictive.
His stomach churned, not just with nausea, but with shame.
Selene stood, sliding her blade back into its sheath. "You can either drown in guilt," she said, voice cool, "or you can learn to survive. Because guilt doesn't stop the monsters from ripping out your throat."
The ceiling above groaned, dust spilling in thin streams as the howls of other mutants echoed faintly through the broken city.
Ethan dragged himself upright, legs trembling beneath him. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "If… if I do this again… if I kill again… what does that make me?"
Selene glanced over her shoulder, her silhouette sharp against the flickering light.
"Alive," she said simply.
The word hung in the stale air like a curse.
Ethan swallowed hard, his hands still trembling. The Core pulsed once, as though pleased with her answer, and whispered again in that cold, silken voice:
> "Yes. More."
And Ethan knew, with a dread that hollowed him out from the inside, that he would kill again. Because the Core wasn't just inside him anymore. It was him.
Ethan staggered away from the mess, his boots slipping on slick concrete. Every time he blinked, he saw it again — the mutant's yellow eyes, the snap of bone under his will, the wet burst of gore when he clenched.
The sound wouldn't leave him.
The smell wouldn't leave him.
The hunger wouldn't leave him.
He pressed his palms to his temples, groaning. No, no, no… this isn't me. I don't kill. I don't—
But the Core thrummed inside him like a second heartbeat, steady, patient, almost amused.
> [Vital absorption stabilized.]
[Crimson synchronization complete.]
[Host compatibility: 100%.]
Ethan flinched, as if the words were needles burrowing into his skull. His breath came ragged, panic and shame gnawing at him until his knees buckled again.
Selene's shadow fell across him. She didn't reach out, didn't offer comfort. Instead, her voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.
"You can cry later. Right now, you learn."
He looked up, eyes red-rimmed and wet. "Learn what? To slaughter? To like it?" His voice cracked, full of raw pain. "Because I felt it — that rush. For a second… I wanted it."
Selene crouched, her face inches from his, her eyes hard as steel. "Then stop lying to yourself. Power always feels good. That's why men fall. That's why monsters are born."
Her words struck him like a slap. He opened his mouth, but no defense came. Because deep down, she was right.
Selene straightened, her coat brushing the floor as she turned away. "Get used to the hunger. You can fight it, but it won't vanish. And the more you kill, the louder it will sing."
Ethan's fists clenched until his knuckles ached. "And if I don't?"
She glanced back over her shoulder, one brow arched. "Then you die. And trust me, this world isn't merciful enough to let you choose."
The tunnel groaned again — metal straining under the weight of collapse. Distant shrieks echoed above, carried on the wind through shattered vents. The world outside was alive with predators.
Ethan swayed where he stood, every instinct screaming to run, to hide, to claw himself out of this nightmare. But his veins still hummed with stolen energy, his body still thrummed with unnatural strength.
It was intoxicating.
It was horrifying.
It was his.
He whispered, almost to himself: "I don't want this…"
But the Core's voice licked across his mind like silk soaked in blood.
> "Liar. You need this."
His chest tightened. His pulse raced. And though he wanted to scream, he knew the truth — he had already taken the first step. There was no undoing it.
Selene started walking deeper into the tunnel, boots crunching over debris. Without looking back, she spoke. "Move, Ethan. Or the next monster will be you."
Her words chilled him, yet his legs obeyed. Shaking, exhausted, sick to his core — but moving. Because some part of him knew: she wasn't wrong.
The subway walls bled with shadows, the air heavy with iron. Ethan dragged himself forward, leaving the corpse behind but carrying something far heavier inside.
The Core pulsed once, satisfied.
> "Good, Host. Walk. Fight. Kill. Feed."
And though Ethan's lips whispered never again, the hollow dread in his chest told him otherwise.
He would kill again.
Not because he wanted to.
But because the Core would make sure he did.