Melody walked through the lab and down one corridor after another, her steps steady, her mind racing beneath the calm surface.
What could have happened? We only keep harmless specimens here… or at least none that should pose a threat to a human.
She replayed Marie's shout in her head, the raw panic in her voice. Something didn't add up. She felt a faint, unwelcome knot form in her stomach.
As she approached the entrance, she slowed. A sour, metallic odor hung in the air — faint at first, then unmistakable. Her frown deepened. The smell grew stronger with every step toward the door at the end of the corridor.
A bad feeling surged through her chest. She didn't run, but her pace sharpened, her heels striking the floor with controlled urgency as she closed the remaining distance.
When she pushed the door open, the stench hit her like a wave. Her eyes adjusted in a heartbeat — and then she saw it.
A splash of vivid green against the grey tiles. Fragments. Fluid. Something crushed beyond recognition. And beside it, a dark red pool trailing across the floor toward the far end of the corridor.
Her breath caught — not in fear, but in calculation. Something had happened here. Something violent.
She stepped into the main area, carefully avoiding the splashes. As she crouched to examine the debris, the shapes resolved in her mind: chitin plates, a foreleg segment, part of a thorax. Mantis anatomy — but far larger than any specimen they kept, at least from what she knew.
The proportions were wrong. Distorted. Enlarged. Even their twenty‑centimeter giant variant didn't match this. The size was off. The segmentation was off. The entire structure felt… warped.
The green smear wasn't paint. It was hemolymph.
A pure predatory mutation...
Something that had changed far beyond its baseline form.
And something that should not have been able to leave its enclosure.
She straightened slightly, scanning the area again. The red splash wasn't random — it was blood. Human blood. And the trail leading away from the mangled remains told a clear story: there had been a struggle, and someone had been hurt badly.
If the mantis attacked a human… how did it cause this much damage? And who—
Her mind tightened around one possibility.
Marie was here. Marie saw this and might have been attacked.
She froze.
"Was it Marie…?" she whispered, trembling at the thought
She rose in a sharp, controlled motion — but this time, the urgency was real. She headed toward the entrance, her pace shifting from analytical to almost frantic.
As she reached the door, she pushed it open with more force than intended. Marie and Oliver stood there, unharmed.
Relief washed through her — but only for a second.
Because then she saw him.
A man lay across Marie's lap, bare‑chested, his skin streaked with dried blood and hastily wrapped bandages. His breathing was shallow, his face drained of color.
Melody's relief vanished, replaced by a cold, sinking weight in her stomach.
She crossed the room in quick, urgent strides and called out:
"Are you two okay? What happened? And who is that man?"
Marie, Oliver, and the injured stranger all turned toward her.
"What do you mean what happened?!" Marie snapped, her voice cracking under the pressure. "You're the one who should be telling us what happened!"
The fury hit her in a wave — sharp, hot, uncontrollable. Seeing Melody standing there, perfectly unharmed, perfectly composed, made something inside her twist. Her eyes locked onto Melody's with a glare sharp enough to cut.
Melody didn't erupt. She didn't even flinch. She could see the exhaustion trembling beneath Marie's anger, the fear she was trying to bury under volume. And she had already seen enough of the scene to know Marie had every reason to be shaken.
"I understand," Melody said, her voice steady but not cold. "I know it was hard. But I need you to tell me exactly what happened so I can assess the situation."
Her tone wasn't dismissive — it was controlled, focused, the voice of someone who had already switched into crisis‑management mode.
Marie heard the steadiness in Melody's tone and, almost against her will, it grounded her. She drew in a long, shaky breath, forcing her voice to steady as she began to speak.
She recounted everything — the sudden shift in the corridor, the blur of movement she couldn't fully process, Adam shoving her back with a force she'd never felt from him, his voice cracking as he ordered her to run. The panic that seized her chest as she sprinted toward the reception, desperate to find Oliver, terrified of what might be happening behind her.
Then the moment she'd turned back, heart hammering, only to see Adam stumble out of the corridor — barely conscious, drenched in blood, his legs giving out beneath him as he collapsed right in front of her.
Her voice wavered as she reached that part.
"…and when I got to him, he could barely stand," she whispered. "He was shaking, bleeding everywhere, but he still tried to joke about it. I didn't know whether to cry or hit him."
She swallowed hard, her hand tightening protectively on Adam's shoulder.
"I didn't move him far. I just helped him lie down and bandaged what I could. But he's hurt, Melody. Really hurt. He needs proper treatment."
"I'm right here, you know," Adam muttered with a pout, feeling ignored. "Not dead yet…"
Marie shot him a glare and whispered for him to shut up and rest.
Melody stood frozen for a second. She pinched her brows together, trying to process the information, to fit it into a framework that made sense.
But after a moment, the pieces aligned. The blood trail in the corridor. The crushed remains. Adam's wounds. Everything pointed to the same conclusion — as unbelievable as it was.
She exhaled slowly, steadying her thoughts, then looked directly at Adam.
"Thank you for protecting one of my employees," she said, her voice low but sincere. "And… I'm deeply sorry for what happened."
Adam looked at her and smiled.
"It's fine. It's not like you sent that thing after us like a movie villain, right?" he laughed — but his eyes were dead serious.
The joke slid off her like water, but the seriousness behind it didn't. Melody held his gaze for a moment, reading the unspoken question beneath the humor. Her brows tightened ever so slightly — not offended, but acknowledging the weight of what he'd implied.
"I assure you, Mr. Adam… nothing in this facility is ever meant to harm anyone. What happened to you should have been impossible." She answered.
Adam looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, but found none. Finally, he nodded.
"I owe you a proper explanation," she said.
Then, turning toward Marie, Melody asked, "Did either one of you call an ambulance?"
Marie straightened slightly, still keeping one hand on Adam's shoulder.
"We called an ambulance already—" Marie began, but she stopped mid‑sentence when a distant wail echoed through the facility.
The unmistakable rising and falling siren of an ambulance.
She blinked, stunned for a second.
"…well. That answers that," she murmured.
A few minutes later, the paramedics arrived and lifted Adam onto a stretcher, securing him with quick, practiced movements while Marie stayed at his side, refusing to let go of his hand. Once he was settled inside the ambulance, she climbed in with him without hesitation. Melody remained at the entrance, watching the vehicle pull away, its siren fading into the distance. She stood there for a moment, silent and composed, before turning back toward the facility with a tightened expression.
"Oliver, get me every security footage from the last twenty‑four hours," she said sternly, without even looking in his direction.
— At the Hospital, in a patient room —
The doctor finished reviewing the X‑ray and the diagnostic notes. After a moment of quiet reflection, he turned toward Marie.
"Mmm… he'll be fine," he said calmly. "None of the injuries are deep enough to cause lasting problems. He just needs rest and proper nutrition. Change his bandages regularly, apply ointments, and he should recover over the next few days. The marks will take a bit longer to fade, but nothing alarming."
Marie let out a long breath, a weight visibly lifting from her shoulders.
Adam thought for a moment, his expression shifting just enough to betray that he was already calculating something. It wasn't the look of a man planning to rest — it was the look of someone figuring out how to slip out of the hospital sooner than he should.
"Yeah, thanks, doctor. I'll absolutely rest," he said with a bright, innocent smile.
Marie stared at him, instantly suspicious. She knew that smile all too well.
"Then have a proper rest, and remember you have a call button if you need anything. A nurse will come shortly," the doctor added with a reassuring smile before leaving the room.
The door clicked shut behind him, and silence settled for a moment.
Marie slowly turned her head toward Adam, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
"…What exactly are you planning?" she asked, already knowing she wouldn't like the answer.
"I know myself," Adam said, stroking his chin with zero shame. "It might look like a lot, but I'll be fine very soon. I'd say one week should be enough."
Marie blinked once. Then twice.
"…Adam. The doctor literally said two weeks."
He shrugged, completely unfazed.
"Yeah, but I have a flight to catch."
Marie's eye twitched.
"Listen to me, I'm not doing anything crazy. I know myself, I'll have recovered by next week, trust me," Adam said sincerely, gently taking her hand.
"And you know how long I've prepared for that. I'm not giving up just because of a… tiny accident," he added, pinching his fingers together to mimic something small.
Marie stared at the gesture like it personally offended her.
"Tiny accident?" she repeated slowly, her voice dangerously calm. "Adam, you lost enough blood to make the paramedics panic."
He opened his mouth to argue, but she leaned closer, eyes narrowing.
"You're not going to Australia like this."
Adam smiled, the kind of smile that meant he absolutely intended to go to Australia like this.
For the next few days, Adam split his time between talking with his sponsor and coordinating with the team he'd be working with for the stunt, while close friends and family came to visit.
Marie stopped by whenever she had a free moment, staying with him as long as she could. It was adorable — he could tell she still felt guilty about what happened, not that he was going to complain about the extra attention.
As for his parents and other close friends, he had to lie, since he'd come to an agreement with Melody and the company behind her. Because they were a healthcare company, he'd asked them to support him with supplements, sports products, and regular health checkups in exchange for keeping things quiet.
So he told everyone he'd fought off a horde of cats to protect Marie. Most of them laughed it off, assuming it was just Adam being Adam.
"Don't forget to call me, and if you feel like anything's wrong, don't force yourself, okay?" Marie said with concern, hugging him tightly.
"Haha, I'll send you pictures. I'm sure there'll be plenty of amazing scenery and species — you'll love it!" Adam replied, brushing off the topic.
Marie snapped her head up at him.
"You know that's not what I'm talking about."
Adam laughed, deflecting with a grin
"You know I'm fine. Look." He pulled up his sleeves, showing his arms. The marks had closed and almost completely faded.
Marie rolled her eyes.
"I know, I've checked multiple times. And I still don't understand how that's even possible. But you know I'm just worried about you…" she sighed, her expression softening.
Adam stepped closer and gently kissed her forehead.
"I'll be fine. See you next month. And don't die in one of your weird experiments, my scientist," he said with a heroic grin.
Finally, he turned around and headed toward his gate without looking back.
"Come back safely! I still need you for some experiments, Frankenstein!" she shouted after him.
Adam waved a hand in the air without turning around.
An hour later, it was finally time for him to board his plane. He passed through the different checks and filters without rushing, moving with the relaxed confidence of someone who had already decided nothing would stop him. Once inside, the cool, recycled air of the cabin washed over him. Twenty hours from New York to Sydney — plenty of time to rest and think about what happened the past few days.
Mmm… D16…
He walked down the aisle, scanning the numbers above the seats as passengers shuffled around him, storing luggage and settling in for the long haul.
There it was.
D16.
He sat down comfortably by the window, slipped in his AirPods, and let music fill his ears. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to relax. The hum of passengers settling in, the soft thud of overhead compartments closing, the distant chatter of flight attendants — it all blended into a quiet background noise that soothed him more than he expected.
Outside, the airport lights glowed against the evening sky, reflecting faintly on the plane's window. Adam leaned his head back, exhaling slowly.
Twenty hours.
A moment later, someone slid into the seat beside him — a brief shuffle, a polite nod, nothing more. Adam barely glanced their way, already drifting into his own thoughts as the cabin prepared for takeoff.
The plane lifted off, engines roaring softly beneath him, and Adam felt his consciousness drift almost immediately. Not fully asleep, not fully awake — just floating somewhere in between. Everything blurred together: the dim cabin lights, the low murmur of passengers, the steady vibration of the plane cutting through the night sky.
Time slipped strangely. Minutes felt like hours, hours like minutes.
At some point, his thoughts wandered back to the last few days — the chaos, the blood, the hospital, Marie's worried face… and then, inevitably, the mantis.
Honestly… what was that? He exhaled slowly, eyes half‑open, watching the faint reflection of his own face in the window.
I mean… it's pretty crazy that such a small creature can hurt me that much… Luckily I've always had a damn good metabolism, so it didn't take me long to recover. It would've sucked if I had to postpone or cancel this stunt altogether…
His gaze unfocused, drifting somewhere between memory and exhaustion.
But yeah… I don't know what the government's doing if creatures like that are starting to appear…
The thought dissolved as sleep finally pulled him under.
At some point, the cabin lights brightened slightly — the soft, artificial dawn of an in‑flight meal service.
He blinked awake.
His neck hurt. His back hurt. His brain felt like it had been left on standby mode.
A flight attendant leaned toward him with a polite smile. "Chicken or pasta?"
Adam rubbed his eyes. "Uh… chicken. Please."
The tray settled in front of him, warm and smelling vaguely edible. He stretched a little, careful not to disturb the person beside him, who was already awake and scrolling on their phone.
"Long flight, huh?" the guy said casually, glancing at him.
Adam gave a tired grin. "Yeah. Feels like I've been asleep for three days."
"Honestly? Same," the guy chuckled. "Where you headed? Sydney or connecting somewhere?"
"Sydney," Adam replied, stabbing at his chicken. "Work stuff."
"Ah, cool. Vacation for me. First time in Australia."
Adam nodded, offering a polite smile before returning to his food. He wasn't really in the mood for conversation, but the exchange was harmless enough.
After eating, he put his tray away, reclined his seat a little, and browsed through the screen in front of him. Action movies, comedies, a few classics… He picked something random, and started a marathon, watching one movie after the other.
At some point, he heard the captain make an announcement:
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing in Sydney shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts…"
Adam straightened up, stretching his fingers, rolling his shoulders. Twenty hours. Gone in a haze.
Outside, the coastline appeared — bright, sunlit, unmistakably Australian.
He smiled faintly.
Somewhere out there, two cliffs were waiting for him.