The smell hit me first. Smoke… Smookkeeee ….. What ..
I jerked awake on my dorm bed, laptop still warm on my chest. The beetle documentary I'd been watching flickered on the screen . It was something about tiger beetles being the fastest insects alive.
"What the hell?"
Gray smoke seeped under my door. The hallway fire alarm shrieked like a banshee.
My heart hammered beating like a drum. This wasn't a drill.
I stumbled to my feet, nearly tripping over the stack of entomology textbooks by my bed. The floor felt warm even through my socks. Too warm.
"Shit, shit, shit."
The doorknob burned my palm. I yanked my hand back, hissing. The metal was already heating up.
Think, Marcus. Think. Fast.
My beetle terrarium sat on the desk by the window. Inside, my prized collection moved frantically - six months of careful breeding and research. The rhinoceros beetles I'd imported from Japan. The rare goliath beetles from Africa. My pet click beetle, Trigger, who could launch himself three inches into the air.
They were panicking.
"I can't leave you guys."
The window. Fire escape. I could make it.
I grabbed the terrarium with both hands. It was Heavy. Twenty pounds of glass, soil, and my life's work.
The hallway was already filling with smoke when I kicked open the door. Students rushed past, coughing and shouting. Someone screamed from the floor above.
"Move! Everyone out!"
The residential advisor's loud voice that boomed over the chaos. I recognized Jake's accent - the guy who'd given me grief about keeping "bugs" in my room.
My arms shook under the terrarium's weight. The beetles inside scrambled against the glass, their legs clicking frantically.
"It's okay, guys. We're getting out of here."
The stairwell was packed. Bodies pressed against each others, they pushed me to the sides. Someone's elbow jabbed my ribs.
"Watch it!"
A girl in front of me stumbled. I couldn't catch her with my hands full.
The smoke was getting thicker. My eyes burned. Each breath felt heavy and painful, like swallowing sandpaper.
"Keep moving! Don't stop!"
We reached the second floor . Only one more .
That's when I saw her.
A kid, maybe eight or nine years old, pressed against the wall. Tears streamed down her round soot-covered face. She wore pajamas with cartoon characters on them.
"Where's your mommy, sweetheart?"
She pointed up the stairs. "She went back for daddy."
My stomach dropped. Nobody should be going up.
The crowd pushed past us. In thirty seconds, we'd be alone.
I looked at the terrarium in my hands. My beetles. Six months of work. My passion project for graduate school.
Then I looked at the kid.
"Fuck."
I set the terrarium down carefully in the corner . The beetles inside went crazy, sensing abandonment.
"I'll be back, I promise."
I scooped up the kid. She was lighter than my terrarium, but her small arms wrapped around my neck like a small scared vine looking for a tree for support .
"What's your name?"
"Sarah."
"I'm Marcus. We're gonna find your parents, okay?"
The stairs up were empty now. Everyone else had evacuated. Smart people.
Heat hit us like a wall on the third floor. The hallway glowed orange at the far end.
"Mommy!"
Sarah's scream pierced my eardrums.
"Which room?"
She pointed down the hall. Toward the flames.
My lungs already burned from the smoke. Each step forward felt like walking into hell.
"Stay low," I told her. "Like we're playing limbo."
We duck-walked down the corridor. The carpet squelched under my feet - the sprinkler system had activated, but it wasn't enough. The fire was winning.
Room 312. I kicked open the door.
"Hello? Anyone in there?"
Silence.
I pushed inside. The smoke was thinner here, but not by much.
"Mommy!"
A woman's voice answered from the bathroom. "Sarah? Oh my God, Sarah!"
She emerged carrying a man on her shoulders. He was unconscious, maybe from smoke inhalation. Both were covered in soot.
"Who are you?"
"Doesn't matter. We need to go. NOW."
She nodded. Without hesitation.
The trip back took twice as long. The heat and smoke pushing us down like an unknown force trying to engulf everything on its path. The man's weight slowed us down. Sarah whimpered against my shoulder.
When we reached the empty stairwell.
That's when I remembered.
"My beetles."
I'd left them on the second-floor landing. Right from where we needed to pass.
The terrarium sat exactly where I'd placed it. Still intact. My beetles were alive.
But we couldn't carry everything.
The woman struggled with her husband's weight. Sarah clung to me. And my life's work sat three feet away.
"Go," I told them. "I'll be right behind you."
"Don't be stupid," the woman said. "Leave whatever that is."
I looked at the terrarium. Six months of breeding. Research data for my thesis. Trigger, who'd learned to respond to his name.
Then I looked at Sarah's tear-stained face.
"Yeah. You're right."
We made it to the first floor. The exit was so close I could see the fire trucks outside.
That's when the ceiling gave way.
A burning beam crashed down between us and the door. Sparks showered everywhere. The woman screamed.
We were trapped.
" I immediately shouted This way!"
I knew a side exit. The building maintenance door that led to the alley. I'd used it to sneak out for late-night bug-hunting trips.
But it meant going back into the building. Away from safety.
"Trust me."
The maintenance corridor was narrow and filled with smoke. Sarah coughed violently against my chest.
"Almost there, sweetheart."
The door was locked.
"Fuck!"
I kicked it. Nothing. The solid steel didn't budge.
"Let me try."
The woman set her husband down and pulled out a credit card. She worked it into the frame with practiced ease.
"Misspent youth," she said.
The lock clicked.
Cool night air hit us with a sense of relief . We stumbled into the alley, gasping.
Paramedics rushed over. They took Sarah from my arms and loaded the unconscious man onto a stretcher.
"You saved them," the woman said. "Thank you."
I nodded, still catching my breath.
Then I remembered.
"My beetles."
Before anyone could stop me, I dashed toward the building.
"Wait! It's not safe!"
The maintenance door slammed shut behind me. The heat was worse now. Much worse.
I should have stayed outside. Should have accepted the loss.
But Trigger was still up there. Still alive.
The corridor was hot like an oven. My clothes stuck to my skin with sweat. Each breath burned my throat.
The stairwell was completely engulfed when I reached it. Orange flames licked the walls. The temperature was beyond human tolerance.
But I could see the second-floor landing. The terrarium sat where I'd left it, somehow still intact.
Twenty feet away. Might as well have been twenty miles.
I pulled my shirt over my nose and ran.
The heat hit me like a physical blow. My exposed skin felt like it was melting.
Fifteen feet.
Ten feet.
Five feet.
My hand closed around the terrarium's handle.
That's when the floor collapsed.
I fell through burning wood and twisted metal. The terrarium flew from my grip, shattering against the concrete below.
Glass everywhere. Soil scattered. And my beetles…
Trigger lay on his back near my hand. His legs moved weakly.
"I'm sorry, buddy I'm sorry."
I tried to reach for him, but my body wouldn't respond to any commands. Something heavy pinned my legs. Blood pooled under my head.
The last thing I saw was Trigger's antennae twitching one final time.
Then darkness.
.
.
.
.
.
Then suddenly I woke up crying.
Not the confused crying of a baby. The deep, gut-wrenching sobs of someone who'd lost everything.
My beetles. My hard work everything .
At least Sarah. The woman and her husband.
they had made it out alive and safe .
I tried to sit up and nearly fell off whatever I was lying on. My body felt wrong. Something… something was not right. Why I feel too small. Too weak.
"Easy there, little one."
A woman's gentle but unfamiliar voice.
I opened my eyes properly for the first time.
The woman leaning over me had silver hair and kind brown eyes. She wore clothes I didn't recognize .A simple gray dress that looked hand-sewn.
More importantly, she was holding me like I was a baby.
Uhhhhhh?
Like a baby.
"What the hell?"
The words came out as gurgling nonsense.
The woman smiled. "He's trying to talk already. Brilliant little boy."
Reincarnation. Yes It was the only explanation that made sense.
I'd died in that fire and been reborn. With all my memories intact.
The room around me looked like something from a science fiction movie. Clean white walls that seemed to glow with their own light. No visible light fixtures, but everything was perfectly illuminated.
Through the window, I could see a city unlike anything from my previous life. Towers stretched impossibly high into the sky, connected by bridges and walkways. Flying vehicles moved between them in organized streams.
But it was still Earth. I could see familiar constellations through the window. Same moon. Same sun.
"Where… when am I?"
Again, baby gibberish.
"Shh, Soren. You're safe now."
Soren. That was my name now, apparently.
The woman - my mother, I realized - set me back in what looked like a high-tech crib. The mattress adjusted automatically to my weight and temperature. It felt quite good really good.
"Your father will be home soon. He's going to be so proud."
She touched my forehead gently. Her hand was warm and calloused - working hands.
"We live in interesting times, little one. The world outside isn't what it used to be. But you're safe here in New Geneva."
New Geneva. That was new.
"The mana storms have been getting worse lately. The city's shields are holding, but the wildlife outside…" She shook her head. "Well, you don't need to worry about that yet."
Mana? Like magic?
This was definitely not the world I'd died in.
Over the following weeks, I learned more through observation and overheard conversations.
The year was still 2025, but everything else had changed. Two hundred years ago, something called "The Convergence" had introduced mana to Earth's atmosphere. The results were… complicated.
Cities had adapted with advanced technology and protective barriers. But the areas between cities had become dangerous wilderness filled with mutated creatures and unpredictable magical phenomena.
Most people dealt with this new world in one of two ways.
The majority chose cybernetic enhancement - adding new artificial hearts with advanced power cores that let them interface with high-tech armor and weapons. These "Augmented" made up the bulk of the population in places like New Geneva.
A smaller group opted for biological enhancement - merging their DNA with animals to gain superhuman abilities. These "Evolved" were rarer and often looked down upon, especially if they chose "inferior" animals.
Both paths required reaching adulthood and undergoing expensive, dangerous procedures.
I had eighteen years to decide which route to take.
But in my heart, I already knew.
Everyone thought insects were worthless for DNA merger. The process was supposedly more painful, the abilities to grow is much slower , and the risk of losing your humanity higher.
They were wrong. Yes I will prove them wrong.
During my graduate studies, I'd learned things about beetles that would make people's heads spin. Tiger beetles that could run so fast they went temporarily blind. Dung beetles that could pull over a thousand times their own weight. Bombardier beetles that mixed chemicals in their bodies to create literal explosions.
If I could merge with the right beetle DNA…
But first, I had to survive childhood.
My new parents were good people. Marcus Cross - my father - worked in the city's power distribution center. Linda Soren- my mother - was a teacher at the local school.
They were both Augmented, though low-level. Dad's heart glowed faintly blue when he worked on electrical systems. Mom's enhanced reflexes made her impossible to surprise.
They lived in what they called the "middle ring" of New Geneva - not rich enough for the inner districts, not poor enough for the outer slums.
Safe. Comfortable. Boring.
I spent my early years learning everything I could about this new world. The internet still existed, though it was heavily regulated by the city's AI systems. Most information about the outside world was classified.
But I was persistent.
By age five, I could read at a high school level. By age eight, I was accessing restricted academic databases through exploits I remembered from my previous life.
The more I learned about beetle genetics and DNA merging, the more convinced I became that everyone was missing something huge.
Tiger beetles weren't just fast - they were the fastest predators in the insect world relative to their size. Scale that up to human proportions, and you'd have someone who could outrun vehicles.
Rhinoceros beetles weren't just strong - they could lift objects 850 times their own weight. A human with that proportional strength could lift a car over their head.
Bombardier beetles didn't just have chemical weapons - they had organic rocket engines that could reach temperatures of 100 degrees Celsius.
The applications were endless.
But every adult I talked to laughed off the idea.
"Insects are too primitive, Soren."
"The neural integration never works properly with arthropods."
"You'd lose your mind to instinct within days."
"Choose a mammal like a normal person. Maybe a big cat if you want to be flashy."
They didn't understand.
Never.