A mechanical hiss echoed through the chamber as unseen mechanisms stirred to life. Karnak barely had time to react before the walls themselves seemed to shift, grinding as if the facility was waking up with him. His body was still humming with unnatural energy, his pulse out of sync with the rhythm it once knew. The voice in his head had fallen silent, but the hunger it left behind still gnawed at him, lingering like a whisper in his bones.
Then—footsteps.
Not his own.
Something was coming.
Karnak's newly heightened senses flared to life, tracking the disturbance before his mind could fully process it. His eyes darted to the corridor beyond the chamber door, where the shadows thickened, rippling with movement. His breath hitched. The darkness was moving.
No—something was inside it.
A notification flashed across his vision, stark against the blackness:
Hostile Entity Detected. Bio-signature: Unstable. Classification: Aberrant.
Karnak took an unsteady step backward, his body already shifting into a low stance, instincts he hadn't earned guiding him. The virus within him pulsed in response to the threat, urging him to act.
Then, the thing stepped into view.
A grotesque silhouette, human-shaped but wrong in every way, twitched at the threshold of the room. Its limbs were elongated, moving in jerky, unnatural motions, as if it was still learning how to use them. Its skin, pale and stretched too tightly over its frame, pulsed with a sickly luminescence. Empty eye sockets fixated on Karnak, locking onto him with an intensity that sent a shudder down his spine.
And then it moved.
Too fast. Too fluid.
Karnak barely had time to react before it lunged, a clawed hand slashing toward his throat. His body moved on instinct, ducking low and rolling to the side, the attack missing by inches. The air cracked where the creature's strike had landed, splintering metal like paper.
That would have killed me.
The thought barely registered before the virus in his veins screamed, feeding him new data:
Evolver Combat Engaged. Adapting.
His muscles tensed, and suddenly, Karnak knew exactly how to move. His body twisted, legs coiling like a spring, and he launched himself forward, striking out with a strength he hadn't known was his. His fist connected with the creature's chest, and instead of resistance, there was a sickening crunch.
The force sent the aberrant flying, slamming into the far wall with an inhuman screech. But it wasn't dead. It wasn't even hurt.
It twitched violently, limbs jerking, resetting as if damage meant nothing to it. Its head snapped toward him, mouth stretching into an impossible grin.
"Plagueborn," it rasped, voice hollow and layered with something else, something ancient. "You are newborn."
Then it lunged again.
Karnak met it head-on.
The aberration did not flinch when the kick hit. Rather, as though pain were an alien idea, it clamped down on his leg with an iron grip. It threw him back with inhuman force.
Karnak turned in midair, propelling himself forward with the wall as a springboard. He struck with ruthless accuracy as his fists swung out in a quick succession.
The aberration barely reacted to the blows. It simply kept advancing.
Karnak's stomach twisted. No matter how hard he hit, the creature refused to acknowledge the damage—it was like fighting something beyond pain, beyond logic. Step by step, he backed away, his mind racing for a solution. Then he heard it.
Voices.
A lot of them.
Beyond the ruined hallway, past the broken remnants of the facility, there was a group—too many to count from here. The noise they made, a chaotic blend of shuffling feet and urgent whispers, sent a jolt through Karnak's body. Hope? No—distraction. Either way, he had no better option.
He turned and ran.
Bursting into one of the side rooms, Karnak made for the window. But as soon as he reached it, he realized the problem—it was too high. Even if he managed to pry it open, the drop to the ground below would be brutal. He hesitated just long enough to take in the outside world.
The air was thick with smoke and decay, the scent clawing at his lungs. Ruined buildings stood like skeletal remains, their windows shattered, their walls scarred by time and destruction. The roads were fractured, jagged scars cutting through the land, overrun with weeds and creeping vines. Above, the sun was little more than a ghostly smudge behind thick, churning clouds, casting everything in a sickly, yellowed haze.
Then—footsteps.
Not the aberration's. These were heavier, deliberate. Multiple sets.
The voices from earlier had stopped. Now, only silence remained, save for the sound of something—or someone—closing in.
"The Codex," a voice muttered from the other room.
Codex?
Karnak's breath caught. Before he could process it, another voice cut in—low, dangerous.
"Ohhh, this is how you wanna do this?"
It wasn't a question. It was a warning.
Then—laughter. But not from anyone Karnak recognized.
The air in the room felt wrong. He needed to move.
His eyes darted to the vent. It was a risk, but better than waiting for whatever was out there to find him.
He scrambled toward it, gripping the edge as he pulled himself inside. The metal groaned beneath his weight, each movement sending unsettling creaks echoing through the narrow shaft. Dust filled his lungs, thick and suffocating, but he pressed on.
Then—the vent gave way.
Karnak barely had time to react before he crashed down, his arms twisting at an unnatural angle. Pain shot through his limbs as his skin darkened, turning an ashen gray. His vision swam. Bones cracked and realigned, his body snapping back into place with a sickening pop. His skin shifted, its natural color slowly returning as he gasped for air.
And then he saw him.
A man stood over him, his expression unreadable.
His hair was short, cropped close to his head—practical, but unkempt. Black, with streaks of gray threading through it, a sign of both age and experience. His skin was a deep, rich brown, hardened by years of exposure to the wasteland's unforgiving elements. Scars and dust marked him, but nothing dulled the sharpness in his eyes, hidden behind sleek black sports glasses.
Karnak could still hear the distant echoes of footsteps. They were getting closer.
The man barely reacted. He simply shifted his head toward the sound, then back to Karnak.
"Let's go."
Karnak hesitated for only a second. Running in the opposite direction meant heading straight for whatever was coming.
He followed.