Victor gripped the rusted handle, shoving it open with a grunt. The hinges shrieked a high-pitched wail that would scare the strongest of hearts. A gust of pungent, icy air rushed up from below.A steep staircase descended into pitch-black nothing. Kate stepped forward and flicked on her flashlight, another feature of her advanced costume.The beam trembled slightly but remained alive. She glanced at Victor, now having second thoughts. Her teenage frame was rigid, her breath puffing in the cold. Was going into the basement a good idea?“Ready?” Victor asked, his voice a low whisper.Kate nodded, her jaw tight with tension. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”They started down, each metallic step groaning under their weight. The air grew thicker as they went—cold, damp, and sour with a stench that hit like a slap.Everything smelled like rotting flesh mixed with the tang of old metal. Kate coughed, pressing her sleeve to her nose.“What is that smell?” she whispered in a muffled voice. “

Kate froze where she stood, her breath uneven as she stared at the figure before her. Roadkill, the hero she’d fought beside, wasn’t himself anymore.Black veins snaked across his skin, twisting his body into something unnatural. His mask hid his face, but she didn’t need to see it to know he was suffering.Not to mention, he just asked her to get out or she would die.Kate was a science genius and believed there was logic and method to everything. But the scene unfolding right now shattered her reality.She’d heard stories—urban legends. As a kid, she’d devoured books about werewolves, demons, and cursed souls, dismissing them as fairy tales. But this? This was real, and it was terrifying. She took a step back in apprehension.‘Is he cursed?’ Kate wondered, her mind spinning. ‘Or possessed?’Roadkill was indeed strong and fast. Her first encounter with him demonstrated his exceptional skill in martial arts. Yet here he was, his body contorting as if he were undergoing mutation.Kate’

Kate knelt on the kitchen floor, scrubbing at a stubborn grease stain with a worn-out sponge. The overpowering smell of disinfectant almost choked her since she didn’t even have a mask. But she kept going, her hands moving in steady, practiced strokes. The girl’s workout regime was so punishing that any physical labor didn’t even make her break a sweat.It was a month after the chaos at the abandoned factory. Kate had already returned to her daily boring life at her foster home. She sometimes wished she had never left the orphanage. At least, nobody treated her like a servant there.“Seriously, Kate, can’t you do anything right?” Clara’s voice cut through her thoughts. She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. “That floor’s still a disgrace,” she sneered. “What do we keep you around for?”Kate ground her teeth and didn’t look up. ‘It’s clean,’ she thought bitterly. ‘You just want something to complain about.’ She swallowed the words, knowing they’d only fuel Clara’s temper. They

Kate's mind buzzed as she shoved through the crowd of students and parents. And mediapersons. Her eyes were fixed on Victor Cromwell's retreating back. Their earlier exchange had ended too abruptly.Victor's cryptic words—"You'll find out soon enough"—rang in her ears. Did he actually know her vigilante secret?Kate wasn't about to let him walk away without explaining himself. Spotting him near the back entrance of the Springfield auditorium, she broke into a jog."Mr. Cromwell!" she shouted. "Wait a second, please!"Victor paused and half-turned towards her. "Miss Harper, right? How can I be of service?"Kate stopped a few feet from him. "What you said back there—what did you mean? About me finding out soon?"Victor made a poker face. "It was really just a figure of speech. What did you think I intended to say?"She furrowed her brows in irritation. It's not that she could ask him the question directly. "It felt like you were hinting at something specific. Something about me."He chu

Victor cast a sidelong glance at Atticus. "It's your plan, not mine. I never asked you to make GEN5 serum from my blood, or even manufacture large amounts of it. Now you want to mass-produce hybrids with my blood? I am beginning to doubt your plan."The Tribunal nodded, unaffected by Victor's disapproval. "Victor. We did not start this without your consent. Because of GEN5, Eva Atelier is still alive.""She is not Eva," the Mayor replied with finality."Okay. But her survival is an experimental success. We could replicate this. Build an army of hybrids to counter the Puppetmaster's changelings. Imagine it: unstoppable soldiers that are loyal and enhanced. No families to mourn them."Victor clenched his jaw. The idea, although not new, hung in the air like a dark cloud. "We're already playing with fire, Atticus. GEN5 links their lives to mine."Atticus leaned forward. "You saw the Puppetmaster's changelings with your own eyes. They are multiplying—grotesque, mind-controlled abomination