The phone buzzed again.
Ryan didn't answer immediately.
He stood near the window, staring at the quiet street outside his rented house. Snow fell lightly, covering the road in a thin white sheet. Everything looked peaceful. Normal. That illusion made his skin crawl.
The phone vibrated a third time.
Ryan finally picked it up.
"You enjoy suspense now?" Webber asked. His voice carried the same casual arrogance it always had, like he was permanently amused by everything and everyone. "Or are you debating whether to throw that phone into a river?"
"You know where I am," Ryan said flatly. "So stop pretending this is a conversation."
Webber chuckled. "Still sharp. That's good. I was worried the upgrades might have dulled your personality."
Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Upgrades," he repeated.
"Yes," Webber said easily. "Let's not insult each other by calling it an accident."
Ryan leaned against the wall, his enhanced senses stretching outward. He could hear the hum of electrical lines underground, the distant bark of a dog, the faint echo of footsteps several houses away. No immediate threats.
"You said you wanted to warn me," Ryan said. "Do it."
Webber exhaled slowly. "You're standing on a pressure plate, Ryan. And the moment you move too fast, the entire system is going to collapse on you."
"Then speak clearly," Ryan replied. "For once."
Another soft laugh.
"Doctor Norton wasn't hiding," Webber said. "He was protected."
Ryan felt something tighten in his chest.
"Protected by who?"
Webber paused.
"By people who understand what your father was trying to build."
Ryan closed his eyes briefly. His father's face surfaced in his memory—tired eyes, trembling hands, the constant paranoia. A man who loved him deeply, but was always afraid of something unseen.
"You think your father was a genius working alone in a basement lab?" Webber continued. "No. He was part of a global effort. One that started decades ago."
Ryan's fingers curled slowly.
"You're saying I wasn't the first."
Webber didn't answer immediately.
"That meteor," he finally said. "The one everyone blames for destabilizing the world?"
Ryan opened his eyes.
"It didn't bring monsters," Webber said. "It revealed possibilities. Genetic anomalies. Latent traits. Changes that couldn't be explained by normal evolution."
Ryan felt his pulse steady unnaturally.
"Governments panicked," Webber continued. "Some tried to weaponize it. Some tried to erase it. Most failed at both."
"And my father?" Ryan asked.
"He tried to control it," Webber replied. "Safely. Carefully. He believed abilities could be engineered without destroying humanity."
Ryan scoffed quietly. "Look how that turned out."
"Yes," Webber agreed. "Look at you."
Silence stretched between them.
"And Mira?" Ryan asked finally.
Webber's tone shifted—subtle, but unmistakable.
"She's not involved," he said. "Not directly."
"Then why is every agency watching her?" Ryan demanded.
"Because she's living proof," Webber replied. "That Doctor Norton didn't just create weapons."
Ryan frowned.
"She's human."
"So far," Webber said.
The word landed heavier than any insult.
Ryan straightened.
"You're lying."
"I'm warning you," Webber corrected. "T.A.S.C is already monitoring your movements. They know who you are, even if they're pretending not to."
Ryan's jaw clenched.
"Then why am I still alive?"
Webber smiled through the phone.
"Because they're not afraid of you yet."
The call ended.
Ryan stared at the phone long after the screen went dark.
For the first time since awakening, a question surfaced that unsettled him more than any enemy.
What if I'm not the strongest thing in this world anymore?
Mira Norton woke up at exactly 6:00 a.m.
She always did.
Not because she enjoyed mornings—but because routine was the only thing that kept her grounded. Her apartment was neat, minimal, carefully organized. No unnecessary decorations. No personal photos.
She'd learned early that attachment attracted attention.
As she dressed, she caught her reflection in the mirror.
She looked calm.
She always did.
But beneath that calm lived a constant awareness—like an itch she could never quite scratch. A feeling that her life wasn't entirely hers.
She grabbed her bag and stepped outside.
Two familiar figures stood across the street. One pretending to check his phone. Another sipping coffee from a disposable cup.
They nodded subtly as she passed.
Mira didn't acknowledge them.
She'd stopped asking questions years ago.
At Plane University, her reputation was flawless. Top of her class. Reserved. Intelligent. Unproblematic.
Yet lately… something felt different.
It started the day Robert arrived.
She couldn't explain why he stood out. He wasn't loud. He didn't show off. He didn't seek attention.
But people reacted to him.
Professors listened when he spoke. Students instinctively moved aside. Conflicts ended when he entered a room.
And the way he looked at the world—
Like he was measuring it.
During a lecture on advanced systems theory, Mira caught herself watching him again. His eyes followed the equations on the board, not with curiosity—but with recognition.
As if he'd seen it all before.
Who are you? she wondered.
After class, she passed him in the hallway.
For a moment, she thought he might speak.
He didn't.
That unsettled her more than anything else.
Miles beneath the surface, inside a facility that did not exist on any map—
A man stood before a wall of monitors.
Each screen showed a different subject.
Some sat quietly. Some screamed. Some stared into nothing with empty eyes.
"All units report," the man said calmly.
"Subject R-01 exhibits accelerated cognitive evolution," a voice responded. "Faster than projections."
"And emotional stability?"
"Uncertain."
The man smiled faintly.
"And Mira Norton?"
"Still unaware," another voice replied. "But surveillance indicates increased anomaly resonance when Ryan is nearby."
The man clasped his hands behind his back.
"Doctor Norton always was sentimental," he murmured. "Creating life instead of weapons."
He turned to the glass chamber behind him.
Inside stood a figure—motionless, eyes glowing faintly.
"Prepare extraction team," the man ordered. "If Ryan reaches Mira before we intervene… we lose control of the narrative."
"And if Ryan resists?"
The man's smile widened.
"Then we introduce him to someone like him."
The figure inside the chamber slowly lifted its head.
The lights flickered.
That night, Ryan stood on the rooftop overlooking Plane University.
He watched Mira's building from a distance.
Something was coming.
He could feel it.
The air itself felt heavier.
His phone vibrated once.
A single message.
UNKNOWN:They've authorized contact. Run, or evolve.
Ryan clenched his fist.
Across the campus, alarms began to sound.
And somewhere beneath the ground—
A door opened.
To Be Continued...