The morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of Diego’s room, casting long, jagged shadows across his floor. Diego groaned, rolling over to hit the alarm on his phone, but the movement felt wrong—heavier, lopsided.He sat up, his heart hammering against his ribs as he felt a strange, twitching tension near his right shoulder blade. He tugged at the hem of his pajama shirt, his breath hitching as the fabric snagged on something solid, something living."What the hell is this?" Diego whispered, his voice cracking.He pulled the collar down, his eyes widening until they burned. Sprouting from the junction of his right shoulder and collarbone was an arm—a pale, slender, fully-formed arm, currently curled against his chest like a sleeping infant."No, no, no. This is a dream. Just a really, really messed up dream," he muttered, pinching his own skin. It hurt. "Okay, not a dream. Why is there—how is there—a third arm?"He remembered the dream from just moments ago: a woman with s

The air in the library felt heavy, thick with the scent of decaying paper and the copper tang of Diego’s own mounting panic. Nadiya’s footsteps slowed, the soft squeak of her sneakers on the polished linoleum sounding like a countdown to his social execution."Diego, look, I’m not trying to be a jerk," Nadiya said, her voice dropping into a conciliatory murmur. She was just on the other side of the row of encyclopedias. "You’ve been acting like you’re falling apart since the first bell. If you’re sick, or if you’re in some kind of trouble, just tell me. I’m good at keeping secrets."Diego pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the bookshelf. The pain in his right shoulder had shifted. It wasn't just a pulsing ache anymore; it was a white-hot, searing pressure that felt like white-hot needles being driven into his shoulder blade.Mutation level: 14%. Integration acceleration imminent.The voice in his head was cold, detached, and utterly indifferent to his misery."Nadiya, plea

The hum of the physics classroom was a low-frequency drone that usually lulled Diego into a daze, but today it sounded like a warning signal. He sat hunched over his notebook, his spine rigid, his jacket zipped all the way to his chin despite the stuffy warmth of the lab. Every time he shifted, the phantom weight of his own back pressed against the chair, a constant, nagging reminder of the biology he was desperately trying to suppress."Pratama, you're looking a bit green," Nadiya whispered, nudging his elbow with hers. She was sitting in the desk to his left, her eyes sharp, darting over his face with the calculated focus of a detective. "You sure you shouldn't be home in bed? You look like you’re trying to hold your soul inside your body with sheer willpower."Diego forced a laugh, though it sounded like dry parchment tearing. "Just the history paper, Nadiya. I’m pulling an all-nighter. I’m basically running on caffeine and pure delusion right now.""You're acting like you're smugg

The morning light felt like an interrogation lamp. Diego stared at his reflection in the hallway mirror, his back arched into an uncomfortable, unnatural curve. He had spent the entire night curled into a ball on his floor, listening to the phantom silence of a house that felt like a tomb. Now, he had to return to the fray."Just keep your arms inside the ride," he muttered, his voice barely audible. He shoved his hands into his pockets, letting his hoodie hang loose, praying the fabric wouldn't snag on the hidden, shifting limbs beneath.“If you walk with that coward’s hunch, you will only draw more eyes,” the voice of Kali whispered in the back of his mind."Shut up," Diego snapped, stepping out into the school corridor.The hallway was a gauntlet of shoulder-to-shoulder bodies, a sea of backpacks and loud, indifferent laughter. Diego clung to the lockers, his heart hammering against his ribs. Every brush of a sleeve against his back felt like a spark touching dry tinder. The limbs