Damien stepped out of the office, the door sliding shut behind him with a muted hiss.
He paused, letting out a slow breath.
So they truly know nothing about the gemstones, he thought as he adjusted his coat. I need to report this to Father. He has to know. If he does… maybe his plans will change. Even slightly. Preferably in my favor.
He turned to leave.
"Wait, Damien."
The voice stopped him mid-step.
Damien turned to see Darius standing a few meters behind him, hands clasped casually behind his back, that familiar smile carved into his face.
"There are a few more things we need to show you," Darius said smoothly. "Since you're still fairly new to our cause."
Something twisted in Damien's chest.
Darius had been hovering around him far too much lately—too attentive, too interested. And Damien didn't like being interesting.
Still, refusing now would only make him look suspicious.
He inclined his head slightly.
"Sure. What else do I need to see?"
Darius turned and began walking.
Damien followed.
⸻
The deeper they went, the quieter the halls became.
Workers thinned out. Then vanished entirely.
Doors changed too—thicker, reinforced, lined with security panels Damien didn't recognize. The air felt colder here, heavier, like it resisted every breath.
Where exactly are we going? Damien wondered.
At last, Darius stopped before a wide metal door. It slid open.
Damien froze.
Inside the room stood seven large glass tubes, each filled with pale, glowing liquid. Six of them held bodies—human shapes suspended in unnatural stillness, faces slack, eyes closed. Wires and needles pierced skin and bone alike.
In front of the tubes stood a man in a black-and-gold uniform, his posture straight, his hands stained faintly with red.
"Darius," Damien said slowly, his voice calm despite the spike in his pulse. "What the hell is this?"
The door behind him slammed shut.
The sound echoed.
"These," Darius said with a sigh, "are those who betrayed us. Or at least tried to."
He gestured lazily toward the tubes.
"Some leaked information to the great factions. Others to smaller guilds. It happens more often than you'd think. And I doubt you'll be the last."
Damien didn't move.
"And who exactly is that?" he asked, nodding toward the man in black and gold.
"Oh," Darius replied cheerfully, "that's Nick."
The man turned at the sound of his name.
"He's Wallborn," Darius continued. "One of my spies introduced us. Brilliant mind. With the right resources, he believes he can turn the work of gods into reality."
Darius clapped his hands once.
"Nick. Come here. I have another subject."
"Yes, Darius," Nick replied, his eyes sliding toward Damien.
"Meet your new subject," Darius said lightly. "This one thought he could sell me out to his father—whoever that is. Thought he understood the true nature of the gemstones. He's already given us something useful though."
Damien's eyes widened slightly.
"The fact that they need a host."
Silence fell.
Damien exhaled softly.
"You read my thoughts," he said.
"Bingo," Darius laughed. "That's how all the others ended up here. Their thoughts were too loud."
Damien smiled faintly.
"But you can't read memories," he said. "Good."
For the first time, Darius blinked in surprise.
Then he smiled wider.
"Show him," Darius said.
Nick returned, holding a small vial filled with white liquid, glowing faintly with contained energy.
"What is that?" Damien asked.
"This is an enhancement drug," Nick replied.
Damien recognized it instantly.
But he didn't let the thought surface.
Nick continued, voice steady, almost reverent.
"Scientists have tested countless methods to enhance evolvers. Since evolution is triggered by something similar to an extreme adrenaline spike, we believed drugs that amplified this response could force or enhance evolution."
He shook his head.
"The first part hasn't succeeded yet. But the second has."
Nick held up the vial.
"I call this EV."
Damien's eyes narrowed.
"It forces an evolver's abilities to reach an entirely new level," Nick continued. "But there is a downside."
"And that is?" Damien asked.
"Death," Nick replied calmly.
He didn't pause.
"The drug forces the heart to beat at an exponential rate—far beyond even a first evolution. The effect lasts five minutes. After that, the crash shuts down the entire body."
Nick smiled faintly.
"It's a double-edged creation. My life's work."
He set the vial down and picked up another—this one black.
"This allows night vision," he said, then another green vial. "Rapid regeneration—"
"Enough," Darius interrupted.
He stepped closer to Damien.
"He does this," Darius said with a chuckle. "Gets lost when he talks about his work. But none of that changes anything."
Darius raised a hand.
Damien raised both of his, smiling broadly.
"You can read my thoughts," Damien said. "So go ahead. Read them now."
Darius did.
His smile vanished.
Shock flickered across his face—then irritation.
"Bastard," Darius muttered.
Damien's body suddenly collapsed inward, his skin losing shape as if gravity itself had betrayed him. Flesh liquefied, pooling against the floor in a spreading mass of melted features.
Bones surfaced slowly.
A hollow skeleton, stripped clean, slumped within the puddle, motionless.
Nick barely looked down.
"So the dude killed himself. Smart," he said, unfazed, as he turned back to continue some of his work.
"No."
Darruis's voice snapped.
"He didn't kill himself. He was a clone."
Nick finally paused.
Darruis's breathing was uneven now. His hands clenched at his sides.
"He tricked me into talking," Darruis continued, his voice rising. "He made a fool out of me. Me."
The last word exploded out of him.
"Yeah," Nick shrugged. "He did. Look—do whatever you have to do. Our agreement still stands, right?"
Darruis waved him off without even looking.
Nick watched him leave, then frowned at the ruined room.
"Hey—who's gonna clean this up?" he yelled after him.
No response.
⸻
Darruis walked through the base in silence.
No expression.
Just rage.
He despised nothing more than attacks on his self-esteem—and letting someone walk away with valuable information would shatter it completely.
Laugh while you can, he thought.
"I will take the seat above you," Darruis muttered. "I will destroy you all. The Dawn. The Black Halo. The Broken Veil. Evolaris. Even the Ashvale Clan."
His eyes burned.
"You will all be powerless before the Military.
Powerless before me."
⸻
High in the mountains, a man stood alone.
The wind howled past jagged stone, tugging at his long green hair as it flickered in the cold air. From behind, he bore similarities to Damien—same frame, same posture—but the hair was longer, greener, alive in the wind.
"So… one of the husks was found out," Damien said quietly.
A breeze passed him.
"Hm. Unfortunate."
He didn't sound worried.
"Luckily, once a husk is killed—or once I detach it—the memories return to me." His eyes narrowed slightly. "I'll need to report this to Father."
Around him, several miniature skeletons lay arranged in a wide circular pattern.
Damien stepped forward and picked one up.
At the center of the circle was a ritual array—Runik symbols etched deep into the stone, ancient and precise. He placed the skeleton at its center.
Without hesitation, Damien raised his hand and sliced away a portion of his own flesh.
There was no scream.
No flinch.
Only calm.
He pressed the flesh onto the skeleton.
Moments later, the wound on his body regenerated, skin sealing as though nothing had ever happened.
Damien stepped back.
Then he brought his hands together and clapped once.
"Than Keth—Mir Selfe.
Echo. Bindra."
The flesh erupted outward.
It spread unnaturally, crawling over bone, consuming the corpse as muscles formed, then skin, then limbs. Bone cracked and reshaped. Features sharpened.
A body took form.
When it was complete, it wasn't a man who stood there—
It was a boy.
A child who looked exactly like Damien… but younger. No more than ten years old. Instead of green hair, the boy's was jet black.
The boy slowly lifted his head.
Damien looked down at him.
Not with disgust.
With sadness.
"You were young when you died," Damien said quietly as he handed the boy a set of clothes. The child was naked, trembling slightly as he dressed.
"You didn't deserve what happened to you. Truthfully… none of you did."
He paused.
"So I'll make you a deal."
"Unthra."
The moment the word was spoken, the boy's eyes changed.
They brightened—like life had finally entered them.
"W-Where am I?" the boy asked shakily. "Where are my parents?"
"I don't know," Damien answered honestly. "And if I'm being truthful—I don't care. You died young, lad. I'm giving you a second chance at life."
The boy's breathing quickened.
"What do you mean? What's going on?"
"I'll keep this simple," Damien said calmly. "You won't have control of your body for now. After the mission I give you is complete, I'll grant it back to you."
He looked the boy in the eyes.
"Then you can decide what to do with your life."
"What—"
The boy froze mid-word.
The light in his eyes dimmed.
"Mommy… Daddy… I'm scared," the child whispered inside his own mind. "I'm alone."
"Scared, yes," another voice replied gently. "Alone? No."
Damien's voice echoed within him.
"I'll communicate with you telepathically. I'll explain everything while you carry out your mission."
"…What is my mission?"
"You'll be placed in the Dawn camp," Damien replied. "You'll blend in. At sixteen, you'll enter properly. Until then, things are already arranged."
The boy felt his body move on its own.
"You'll be adopted," Damien continued. "The son of a Dawn family leader."
The child wanted to scream.
But his body vanished instead—disappearing like mist, as if he'd never existed at all.
⸻
A message reached Damien's mind.
Father. I've sent another clone. This one will be your new adopted son. I suggest you prepare the paperwork.
"…Great," a voice replied, irritation clear. "Paperwork."
"Is there something else you wanted to contact me about?" Damien asked as he stepped carefully around the scattered corpses surrounding him.
"Yes," his father said. "Send one of your already configured clones here. Something's come up."
"Oh?"
"Originally, I wanted this person dead," the voice continued. "But instead, he's presented us with an opportunity."
"What kind of opportunity?"
"One that gets you your brother back," the voice said slowly, "and lets me observe how my blood reacts within them."