Chapter 0: Prologue
The chilling light of the waiting room seemed to filter through the frosted glass like a portent of ill fate. Dante Winslow, a sixteen-year-old student in his sophomore year at a prestigious private high school, sat on a rigid plastic chair, staring at the gray floor that hadn't been cleaned in weeks due to the lack of staff. He was lost in his thoughts. Indistinct voices from other patients mingled with the rustling of neglected magazines, creating a surreal atmosphere. Every passing second seemed stretched, and the pounding of his heart echoed in the deafening silence of the room. He wasn't there just for a check-up; he felt the heavy air, thick with an anxiety that tightened around his throat.
"Dante Winslow."
Finally, his name echoed through the air, pronounced with a cold calm by a nurse. He slowly stood up, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and headed towards the examination room door. His steps were hesitant, every movement a struggle between the desire to flee and the need to face reality.
As he entered, the door closed silently behind him. The boy settled into the chair facing Dr. Markus Hartman, who had cared for him for years at his father's request before he had passed away, trying to ignore the growing sense of oppression in his chest.
Dr. Hartman observed him through his glasses, flipping through the medical file with a melancholic expression. "So, Dante," the doctor began, his voice calm but laced with a seriousness that foretold nothing good. "You mentioned that you've been feeling weak for some time, right?"
Dante nodded, swallowing hard. "Exactly, Doctor. It all started with a bit of fatigue, but lately, I feel weaker and weaker. And then there are these unbearable headaches... they keep becoming more frequent."
The doctor sighed, placing the file on the desk. "Dante, your test results... are not good. I'm afraid you have something very serious."
Dante's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"
"It's a rare disease, unfortunately incurable," the doctor explained, with studied calmness. "The outlook isn't encouraging. Sadly, you might have very little time left... we're talking months, young man."
Dante fell silent, trying to process the doctor's words. Every sound seemed muffled, as if he were underwater. A terminal illness. A few months to live.
"I understand," he finally managed to say, in a strangely neutral tone. "I'll keep this misfortune from my family and Emily, my girlfriend. I'd like to avoid the slightest worry on their part. They would be devastated."
Dr. Hartman looked at him in astonishment but didn't press further. "I'm so very sorry, my boy. I wish I could do something to change your fate, but... unfortunately, it's entirely inevitable. Still, if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."
Dante stood up, offering the doctor a faint smile of gratitude. "Thank you for everything, Doc."
Shit.
***
Returning to his apartment, Dante felt the weight of inevitability press down on him. The atmosphere in his room was stifling, the posters on the walls that once inspired dreams now seemed only melancholic memories. He sat down at his desk, breath short and labored. His trembling hands closed around a pen, and the words struggled to emerge as if the paper were a battlefield, while his thoughts tried to gain some semblance of order.
In that state of confusion, the phone rang, interrupting his stew of anguish. It was Emily, his girlfriend. Her voice was a soothing balm, her words flowing lightly, and he, although wanting to reply, hesitated. How could he tell her, the brightness of his life, that he had been struck by such a cruel fate? The fear of losing her gripped him, yet the desire not to hurt her forced him to hide the truth.
"Hey, Dante! So... how did it go?" she asked, unaware of the shadowy world surrounding him. Dante's heart tightened. How could he respond to that innocent curiosity? The question seized him like an unexpected storm. "Everything is fine, Emily," he said, the words slipping out as if stating them was the only way to keep her hope alive. But as the last syllables dissolved in the air, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
Dante listened to Emily's voice fading further away, an echo distant in his tumultuous heart. Her words, filled with joy and hope, crashed against a wall of impenetrable silence. "Can I come visit you? I'm really worried about you, you know," she continued. But every time her name was spoken, a new wave of anguish surfaced, bringing with it the bitter awareness of his impending fate. His mind wrestled with the struggle to reveal the truth and the fear of destroying her.
"I... I'm fine," he managed to say, the words slipping out like a powerless petition to the heavens. But the context of that simple sentence was anything but innocent, and the weight of the lie felt like a boulder. Suddenly, he realized he was protecting himself as much as he was trying to protect her. Yet, he knew that Emily's company was a refuge, a glimmer of light in a world filled with shadows.
"So... when and where shall we meet?" she asked, her voice full of enthusiasm that seemed to challenge the internal battle of the young man. Dante felt his heart straighten at that moment, a vital impulse that contrasted with the chill of uncertainty. "Let's meet tomorrow at the usual park. Does that work for you?" he replied, trying to overlay his desire for normalcy on the truth that ran through him like a blade.
They synchronized their phones, and once they hung up, Dante felt as alone as he had ever been. The room had become both his refuge and his prison, a labyrinth of thoughts in which he could only take shelter. The walls seemed to close in around him, and the sunlight filtering through the window appeared weary, as if it too had resigned itself to everything that was happening.
With his heartbeat slowing, Dante approached the window and gazed outside. The world seemed continuous, unaware of his suffering. Life moved with a mocking sweetness, and he, imprisoned by his thoughts, felt like a stranger in his own body. He recognized the faces passing through his neighborhood: families, couples, kids laughing, and inwardly, Dante began to feel a profound injustice.
Why him? Why was it him?
His mind returned to the conversation with Dr. Hartman, the harsh and merciless words that had burned into his soul. At that moment, he felt that time, once so precious, was now a thief stealing from him step by step; each moment gone by was a step toward the unknown. But he remembered the promise he had made to himself: he would fight, not just to live, but to make sense of it all, even if the future seemed increasingly distant. With a deep breath, he prepared to confront the reality of his life, hoping to find a glimmer of hope among the shadows that stretched.
◈ The Following Day ◈
The morning was shrouded in a thin fog that serpentined through the city streets, creating an almost suspended atmosphere. Dante was preparing to meet Emily, trying to mask the storm raging inside him. Every gesture was deliberate; from choosing his clothes to arranging his hair, everything had to look normal. The words he wanted to spill from his mouth, all those unexpressed truths, were choked like an invisible disease.
When the phone rang, the vibration on his desk felt like thunder in a deafening silence. With his heart in turmoil, he grabbed the device, a faint smile appeared as he answered. "Hey, Dante! Ready for today?" Emily's voice, sweet and melodic, buzzed in the air like a bird song promising sunshine. But at that moment, his soul felt distant from that happiness, a deep abyss that no words could bridge.
"Sure, see you at the park later," he replied, while the soothing effect of her voice contrasted with the inner frenzy. Dante found himself imagining how to handle the moment when he would have to reveal the truth. He feared her pain more than the revelation itself. Each step felt like a leap into an abyss, every breath a weight that accumulated in his chest.
The road to the park seemed endless, each stone telling stories of a life waiting for him with nostalgia. He saw families and children playing, oblivious to the shadow that enveloped him. He felt the contrast of that unacceptable normalcy: how could he feel part of such a vital world while his existence was fading? His mind twisted, seeking answers in a tangle of emotions.
When he finally saw her, Dante's heart leapt. Emily was sitting on a bench, her hair blowing in the wind, and her smile lit up the park like a beacon. But the joy that filled him was fleeting; he felt crushed by the idea of deceiving her, of having to feign a normalcy that he knew did not exist. He crossed the grass, heading toward her.
"Hey there, babe!" he exclaimed as he approached. His heart tightened, but he forced a smile, that same smile he had etched into happy memories. The truth remained buried in the silence, his abyss of sadness hidden beneath a mask of normalcy.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees, dancing on the ground like little sparks as he moved ever closer. His heart raced, a drum of anxiety against his chest, yet he tried to appear calm, as if everything were as it had always been. He sat down beside her, the crisp park air caressing his skin, a jarring contrast to the turmoil inside him.
"Beautiful day, don't ya think?" Emily said, smiling as a ray of sunshine illuminated her hair. Her face radiated disarming joy, and Dante felt himself struggle between the desire to embrace her and the need to protect that smile from a truth too heavy for her to bear. "Yeah," he replied, trying to mirror her brightness, but he felt distant, as if a cloud of shadows had settled between them.
As they began to walk along the path, the world around him faded. Every step felt heavy, every word spoken by Emily a memory of normalcy about to vanish. He wanted to tell her everything, to let her see every corner of his soul, but the words stuck, and his smile became the only wall against the impending pain.
"Is something wrong, Dante?" Emily asked, noticing his silence. The concern in her eyes struck him like a blow, and he felt like a fraud. How could he lie to her? But the thought of revealing the truth paralyzed him. "Nothing much. Just some personal reflexions," he replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I was just wondering..." she started.
What could he tell her while his health was declining? He sighed. The cycles of life continued indifferently, and he felt anchored to a single point, immobile in his pain.
After a moment of silence, he found himself murmuring, "Sometimes, it takes so little to ruin a good moment." The words came out with a terrible subtext, and in Emily's eyes, he read an intuition that scared him. But she took his hand, gently squeezing his fingers. In that touch, Dante found a fleeting breath of air, a reminder of who he was and of who he wanted to remain.
Dante felt cloaked in a shroud of unease as they walked along the park path. Every step he took, every laugh he heard ringing in the air, pulled him further from his pain and the wound he carried inside. Emily's hand, wrapped in his, was an anchor in the stormy sea of his emotions. But as life moved on with its usual sweetness, he felt increasingly distant, as if that reality were a dream from which he feared he might wake up in a nightmare.
"Would you like to stop for a moment?" Emily asked, interrupting his thoughts. Her voice, sweet and melodic, reached Dante like a distant echo. He turned to her, finding her immersed in sunlight, her eyes sparkling like stars in a clear sky. "Yeah, sounds fine to me," he replied, trying to mask his worries. They sat on a bench, the coolness of the wood contrasting with the growing warmth of the afternoon.
"What were you thinking about?" Emily continued, resting her head on Dante's shoulder. It was a simple gesture, yet cruel. Every moment of intimacy pierced him, like a reminder of what he was losing. "It's just... on how precious our relationship is," he answered, the words seeming innocuous, like a veil over an abyss of truth.
The silent complicity stretched between them, but Dante knew it couldn't last long. The anxiety grew in him, a snake slithering through his mind. He felt time slipping away, with every moment that passed without revealing the truth becoming a boulder on his chest. Emily was moving away from him, unaware of the torment consuming him.
"I think of you as my rock in this hectic life. I don't want you to feel burdened, but..." she started.
Dante couldn't hold back any longer. The tears surged forward, and the mere thought of disappearing made his heart sob. But all Dante could say was "I'm sorry."
But her voice faded as she turned away, and he felt lost again as the world settled on him like a heavy blanket.
All that was left was silence as the fear of losing everything consumed him. Emily's eyes sparkled, filled with a light that seemed to challenge the darkness that was about to fall over them. A part of him sought to resist, to keep that thought at bay; another part of him knew that it was only a matter of time before his life too would extinguish.
***
Time passed so quickly that it was already dark. The park was immersed in an almost unreal tranquility. Dante was sitting next to Emily with the girl's hand in his, but his thoughts were elsewhere, clouded by the weight of the truth he had decided to keep from her.
Emily, for a moment, seemed like she was about to say something but then decided against it. This made Dante worry when he noticed immediately. "Is everything okay? Is there something you want to tell me...?" she asked, turning to her.
Emily paused, nervously chewing her lower lip. "Dante... there's something we need to talk about."
"What is it?"
Emily took a deep breath, her eyes filled with hesitation. "It's not easy to say, but... I think I've fallen in love with someone else. I'm sorry. I really mean it..."
Dante remained silent for a moment, the news sliding over him like a light rain. He didn't feel the pain he perhaps should have; only an incredible sense of relief washed over him. "I see," he said then, with surprising calmness. "If that's what you wanted to tell me, then... I will respect your decision."
Emily looked at him, confused by his reaction. "Huh? Is that it...? Aren't you angry?"
Dante shook his head, looking at Emily with a neutral expression as if he had already made a decision. "No, I'm not. Don't worry. Maybe it's better this way."
"W-What are you saying...??"
Without saying another word, he stood from the bench, turning his back on Emily, leaving the girl alone but perplexed and searching for answers that would never come. But when Emily turned around, "Dante, wait! I—" there was no longer any trace of the boy.
◈ A Few Hours Later ◈
Dante entered the nightbar where an old and dear friend of his, Amelia Franceschetti, worked. She was the best friend of his older sister, Anyssa, during high school, and the three of them got along very well. Amelia was a beautiful girl with reddish hair and a tall, well-trained physique. When she started working as a bartender in that place, she became the center of attention for many customers, especially men, and sparked the envy and admiration of many women and girls.
The dim lights of the venue and the soft sound of jazz music created a welcoming atmosphere, but Dante felt like a shadow in the middle of the crowd.
Amelia greeted him with a warm smile. "'Sup, Dante! What's with that tired look? Everything okay? Do you want me to bring you something?"
"Yeah, thanks. Give me something strong," Dante replied, sitting at the counter.
The bartender friend was startled by such a request. "You're joking, right?! You're only sixteen and still don't have the legal age to drink. And surely... you won't handle it."
"It doesn't matter. Just for tonight."
Amelia sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Fine. But don't tell your sister. You know how she would react if she ever finds out about it..."
"In this case... I'll take full responsibility for it."
Amelia watched him closely while preparing the drink. "Can you tell me now what's really bothering you?"
Dante hesitated but then decided to speak. "Sad news, I suppose, Amelia. I'm in total shit. I found out I have a... terminal illness during a visit to my doctor. I have a few months left. And tonight Emily decided to break up with me for someone else. But I think it's better this way, don't you think?"
Amelia's eyes widened, shocked. "Oh my God... Dante... I'm speechless... I'm so sorry…"
Dante shook his head, took the glass, and drank a long, decisive sip. "Don't worry. At least she won't have to deal with all this."
"Does Anyssa and the rest of your family know?"
"Of course not, they mustn't. It would be very problematic."
"I see."
...
...
...
The evening passed with heavy drinks and confidential words until after the seventh sip, Dante felt a presence beside him. He turned and saw a man dressed entirely in black, an enigmatic smile on his face.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," said the man in a velvety, magnetic voice. "I can offer you an alternative. A way to escape the fate that has been imposed upon you."
Dante stared at him, curious yet suspicious at the same time. "What are you talking about?"
"You see, kid, I work for a secret organization," the man explained. "We've developed a special program called Project GX-079, designed to create invincible but powerful superhumans... and to cure any disease."
Dante was speechless. He took a sip from his glass and placed it back on the counter, turning to the man. "And what would I have to do in exchange?"
The mysterious man smiled, tilting his head slightly. "What I'm giving you is an opportunity, kid."
Dante stared at the man for a long moment, unsure whether he was dreaming or if this was reality. But the expression of that man remained unchanged, steady and inscrutable, as if he already knew what decision the boy would make.
Without saying a word, the man extended his hand and placed a small business card on the counter in front of Dante. It was a simple card, opaque black, with a silver engraved phone number. No name, no address, just a contact.
"When you already made your choice... you know how to reach me," the man said, in a tone that allowed no rebuttal. Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away through the crowd of the bar, disappearing like a shadow in the night.
Dante looked at the business card for a moment, feeling the weight of that decision bearing down on him. Then, with a deep sigh, he slipped it into his jacket pocket and stood up from the counter. Amelia was watching him with concern, but Dante simply nodded his head in farewell before stepping out into the cool night.
***
In the silence of his apartment, Dante collapsed heavily onto the couch. His mind still hazy from the alcohol and contrasting thoughts. The city lights filtered weakly through the curtains, casting irregular shadows on the bare walls.
He took the business card out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. He stared at it, undecided, for what felt like an eternity. His life was already marked. He knew there was nothing left to do that could save him. A few months. A few damned months.
And what if that program, that Project GX-079, wasn't a scam? If there were a chance, however remote, to escape the fate that haunted him, wouldn't he at least have to try?
With trembling fingers, he picked up the phone, hesitating before dialing the number etched on the card. Each digit he pressed brought him closer to a decision that would change everything, but at the same time, it seemed like the only possible choice.
With his heart racing, he pressed the last button and raised the phone to his ear. For a moment, there was no response, just a long silence that seemed to extend forever. Then, a click.
"So?" The voice on the other end was the same as the mysterious man.
Dante swallowed. His throat felt dry, and every word seemed like a boulder to lift. "Yes, I've made my choice. I accept your offer."
Another brief silence followed, then the man spoke again. "Truly a wise choice, kid. A vehicle will pick you up tomorrow night, at 9:00 PM, in front of your apartment. Once it's done... there's no going back."
Dante felt the weight of those words, but he didn't waver. "Yes, I understand."
The man said nothing further. The call ended, leaving Dante alone with the sound of silence filling the room. He closed his eyes, resting his head on the couch, while trying to grapple with the storm of emotions overwhelming him.
He had made a decision that would forever change the course of his life. Or perhaps that decision had already been made for him by fate when the illness had been diagnosed.
Tomorrow night, everything would change. And Dante would be ready to face that change, whatever it entailed.
***
The following evening, the wind blew cold as Dante waited outside his apartment. He looked at the clock: there were a few minutes left until 9:00 PM. The neighborhood was strangely quiet as if the city itself knew that something irreversible was about to happen.
A black limousine, with tinted windows, stopped quietly in front of him. The back door opened automatically, inviting him to enter. Dante hesitated for a moment, then slid inside, feeling the door shut behind him like the final sound of an accepted fate.
Inside the vehicle were two men. One sat at the wheel, silent and focused on the road, while the other sat opposite Dante, giving him a brief nod. "Dante Winslow, right?" he asked, as if it were just a formality. "My name is Jacob Elias. But you can also call me Doctor Elias. Don't worry, you're in good hands. We will arrive at our destination shortly."
Dante nodded without speaking, his gaze fixed ahead. The journey took place in a silence that grew heavier as the car drove away from the city and headed toward an abandoned industrial area, where the light from the street lamps was dim and the air smelled of rust and fog.
The car stopped in front of a large, gray, featureless building. The doors opened, and the two men led him inside through bare, dimly lit hallways until they reached a sterile room, all white, where an operating room awaited him.
There were advanced equipment, of which Dante didn't even know the names, filling the space with their silent and unsettling presence.
"This is where the procedure will take place," said Dr. Elias as the other men helped him lie down on a cold metal stretcher. "I assure you, you won't feel a thing. When you wake up, you'll be a completely new person. So... shall we begin?"
"Proceed."
Dante felt a slight prick in his arm as he surrendered to the darkness wrapping around him, while the powerful sedative combined with a small amount of anesthetic began to take effect. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sound that grew fainter until it disappeared altogether.
When Dante began to regain consciousness, he felt trapped in a limbo between dream and reality. He couldn't move, nor speak, but he felt everything. His body was on fire, as if a thousand burning needles were piercing his skin, and every fiber of his being screamed in agony.
The procedure had already begun.
He felt the cold metal of instruments penetrating his body, injecting strange liquids into his veins. His bones creaked and stretched in unnatural ways, and his skin felt like it was burning. The pain was unbearable, but his body, though tortured, did not react as it should have. Perhaps it was part of the process, or maybe it was something else, something much more sinister.
Through the haze of suffering, a new sensation began to break through. His hearing, inexplicably amplified, picked up sounds beyond the operating room.
Voices? No, that's impossible. There's no one in here.
"I still can't believe he survived so long," said a male voice, filled with surprise. "Most subjects die within the first ten minutes."
"An unexpected success," replied a female voice, in a calm and professional tone. "If he survives, he could become the perfect weapon. The implants are responding well, and the regeneration process is nearly complete."
"It's just the beginning," the first man retorted, with a slight undertone of skepticism. "We still don't know if he'll be stable. But if he is, he'll be ours."
The truth hit him like a punch to the stomach. They weren't curing him; they were transforming him into a weapon, their tool. The man who had offered him help had deceived him. All of this was merely an experiment, and he was just a guinea pig.
The physical pain intertwined with the rage that mounted within him, a blind fury that infused him with new energy. Slowly, with determined effort, Dante reopened his eyes. The world was blurred, but the rage burning inside him was crystal clear. Every nerve, every muscle was taut. He could feel his heart pounding wildly, blood surging through his veins, and the new dark energy spreading throughout his body.
He broke free from the straps that held him on the operating table with an ease that astonished him, tearing them like paper. He stood up, feeling his muscles tense and ready for action. Before him was Dr. Elias, who turned around, taken by surprise by the rapidity of his awakening.
"Dante?!" the man shouted, stumbling back. "Wait, we can—"
His words were interrupted by a violent strike. Dante grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground with one hand. CRACK!! He felt the man's neck snap under his grip like a dry twig. The other operators in the room tried to run, but Dante was on them with astonishing speed before they could reach the door, leaving nothing behind but lifeless bodies.
Blood pulsed through his veins, an uncontrollable fury that pushed him forward. But before he could find a way out, something exploded behind him. BOOOOOOM!!! He turned abruptly and saw the mysterious man in black, the same one who had approached him at the bar.
"YOU...?!" Dante pointed his blood-stained index finger at the man he had trusted before. But he didn't believe that his true intentions were to turn him into a weapon. A danger to humanity.
"I'm impressed. You've become stronger than I imagined," the man said, with a smirk that betrayed a mix of admiration and envy. "But... not clever enough."
"I DEMAND EXPLANATIONS NOW! YOU SON OF A BITCH!!" Dante's mind was clouded with rage, vengeance, and a sense of betrayal. He had lost control now. He was no longer himself. He only wanted one thing: TO KILL THIS BASTARD!
The world around him was shrouded in a veil of red, a pulsing darkness echoing in his temples. Kill. Kill. Kill. That word thundered in his mind like a raging drum. He felt not only betrayed, but that betrayal had transformed into a complete affront, an ambush inflicted by someone he believed to be his friend. His hope. I will kill you with my own hands! Every fiber of his being twisted in a mix of rage and pain, and the only impulse coursing through him was to see that man reduced to misery.
Images of that face haunted him, like a knife stabbed into his own heart. Every word, every gesture: a deception! How dare you deceive me?! His mind ignited, hatred mingling with his soul like putrid poison. I will send you to hell! His thoughts flared up; it was as if every cell in his body yearned for the justice that only revenge could bring.
His breathing grew erratic, a roar in his chest demanding to be unleashed. He wanted to hear him cry, to feel the anguish in his eyes, to stand over him like an unyielding judge. I won't find peace until I see you begging for mercy!
The revenge that simmered within him plunged him into an abyss of darkness. There was no room for forgiveness, not now. Just rage, just destruction!
FWOOOOSH!!!
Dante dashed, ready to deliver a fatal blow to him, but...
With a swift motion, the man pressed a button on a small remote he held in his hand. The walls around Dante lit up, revealing a series of hidden explosive charges. Time seemed to slow as Dante realized that there was no escape for him anymore. It was too late.
"Goodbye, Dante. Perhaps we'll meet again some day..." the man said with a grin.
"You know what? Go Fuck Your—" Dante didn't even have time to finish what he was about to say.
Then everything exploded.
BA-BOOOOM!!
***
"Ugh..."
The next morning, Dante jolted awake, his heart racing. He found himself in his bed, body intact, without a scratch. Sunlight streamed through the window, and the sound of the city was distant, almost muffled.
I'm alive... But how did I survive that damned explosion?!
He sat up with crossed legs, trying to figure out if everything he had seen and experienced was just a nightmare. But when he looked down, a transparent screen appeared before his eyes, floating in the air like a hologram.
[Synchronization Successful! The Ultimate System has recognized you as its host.]
[All your lost limbs have regenerated.]
[The mutation was successful.]
[New features now available in the system.] [Congratulations on clearing your first quest.]
[Main Quest: Project GX-079]
[Objective: Accept the offer from the mysterious man in black to cure your illness.]
[Rewards have arrived for clearing the Main Quest: Project GX-079.]
[Do you wish to claim them?]
[Yes] [No]
Under these writings, another notification flashed.
[Status Window unlocked.]
[New skills unlocked: Accelerated Healing – Heightened Senses – Pain Resistance (High).]
...
[Skill 'Accelerated Healing' has leveled up!]
[Skill 'Heightened Senses' has leveled up!]
[Skill 'Pain Resistance (High)' has leveled up!]
...
...
[Skill... has leveled up!]
...
...
...
[Skills 'Accelerated Healing', 'Heightened Senses' and 'Pain Resistance (High)' have reached Lv.MAX.]
Dante stared at the words before him, breathless from disbelief. Nothing was a dream. Something much bigger, intriguing, and exciting.
There was no way back.