The night was dense, cloaked in shadows that seemed to draw in Essex, a man on the brink, moving with purposeful strides through silent streets. Beneath the calm, he felt the rage and hopelessness broiling inside him, propelling him forward. His laboratory has been discovered, his test subjects has been freed. But this did not concern him at all. His mind was a churning storm, and every step he took seemed to deepen the disconnect between who he once was. A Dr. Nathaniel Essex, geneticist, husband, father-to-be and who he was now becoming under the shadow of Apocalypse's promise of power.
As he opened the door to his grand estate, he thought only of his wife, Rebecca and the child she is carrying. She was his anchor to humanity after he lost his first born Adam, a constant reminder of the man he used to be, and what he wanted to become.
Time flowed on and washed his pain, but as his discoveries deepened he seemed to have forgotten... his work had veered into darker territory, and she had become ever distant, a mirror reflecting the ethical boundaries he had knowingly crossed. Essex could only hope that returning to her might be the final tether keeping him from the brink. The promise he made to Apocalypse to serve his designs haunted him, but he resolved it would not become his fate.
"Rebecca, I'm home," he called while chasing his breath, his voice laced with both plea and declaration. Yet the silence that greeted him was thick and unnatural. No flicker of lamplight softened the halls, no whispered echoes of gentle movements stirred the quiet. With a growing sense of dread, Essex began to search, moving with frantic steps through the house, calling her name. At last, he entered their bedroom and found her, weakly lying on the bed, her pale face and disheveled hair spread against the white sheets, her frail body curled protectively around a bloody bundle of cloth beside her, in it is a tiny baby, barely breathing.
"....Rebecca?" His voice broke. She stirred slightly, her eyes opening with difficulty to focus on him. There was no warmth in her gaze, only the distant, cold expression of a woman betrayed.
"Don't touch me," she whispered, her voice thin yet brimming with venom. "Do not come near."
Essex froze, his heart crumbling as her words fell like stones in the silence. She clutched their child closer, shielding it from him, as if he were some monstrous apparition. "Rebecca... I... I've done this for us," he stammered. "All of this was meant for our future, for our child. I only wanted to give you and our children a—"
"A husband?" she spat, eyes narrowing. "Or a god?" The venom in her tone pierced him deeply, but Essex fought to keep his resolve intact. He'd begun his dark work with the vision of a stronger human race, one free of weakness, of death. But as his ambitions had taken a more twisted turn, he had justified it all in his mind as sacrifices for a greater good.
"Rebecca," he whispered, his voice breaking as he sank to his knees beside the bed. "Please... forgive me. I know I've been—"
"A monster, Nathaniel. That's what you've become." Her words cut through him, so final, so irrevocable. She let out a weak, tremulous breath as she held their child close. "You think yourself a visionary, a hero for mankind, but all you have is the soul of a ghoul. You've reduced us to... this," she said, gesturing to her wasted body. "Your hunger for power has claimed everything. Are you happy now? I freed your test subjects, I destroyed your laboratory... you..." She stopped seemingly too weak to continue, her eyes are losing its light and Nathaniel can see it.
Essex's hands shook, reaching out instinctively, but he stopped himself. It was as if she was beyond his touch, more distant than she had ever been. The gravity of his previous choices weighed down on him, the room closing in as her words echoed through his mind. His throat constricted as he watched her cradle their child who is also on his last breaths, her face twisted in an expression he couldn't bear to see.
"Rebecca," he whispered, desperation painting his voice, "don't turn from me. I... I need you." Her expression hardened, her spirit must have returned for a moment as her gaze pierced through him. "You are contemptible, Nathaniel. The very word is foul. SINISTER! That's what you are, down to the marrow."
With those final words, her eyes finally loses its light, her strength waning to the lowest as she lies sprawled in the bed despite Nathaniel's calls. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, the shallow breaths of a life slipping away.
Essex came close to her and his now deceased son motionlessly sobbing without knowing what to do or say, a prisoner to his own despair. Soon Rebecca's body went still, and her eyes closed for the last time. In their death, Essex felt like he was left utterly alone. His mind went blank as he took in the lifeless form of his wife, their newborn in her arms. He felt everything fall apart, felt the foundation of his soul crumbled under the weight of her condemnation. He realized that had done this himself, he's torn apart the very fabric of his life with his own hands. The ambitions he had nurtured with such fervor were suddenly meaningless.
'What was it all for then?' He stumbled backward from the room before crashing to a mahogany dresser and falling flat on the floor. He felt suffocated, as if the walls themselves had turned against him. The echoes of Rebecca's words, resounded in his mind. It seeped into him, burrowing deep, and taking root in his very soul. He cried, howled, tore out his hair. Nothing. What was left is a broken man. A sad man.
Nathaniel did not even notice the arrival of night while contemplating whether to burn it all down or not. A low, rumbling voice called to him, as if from the depths of the earth. "Humans are feeble. You of all should know this. Tell me doctor, are you ready to accept your fate? Or is this where it all ends, ashes and dusts" Apocalypse's voice was dark and laden with disappointment. He emerged from the shadows, his massive form towering over Essex. Apocalypse knew that Essex's transformation was nearing completion when the final spark of 'humanity' had been snuffed out.
"Take me," Essex whispered, his voice is hoarse from screaming. His face felt sticky from the dried up tears. "I... I have nothing left. I will serve you faithfully, just as you wished. In exchange, grant me this 'power' you promised." Apocalypse's serious expression turns into a cold knowing smile. With a single motion, he beckoned Essex forward, the air around them crackling with the ancient energies he commanded. "You are broken, a man emptied of all attachments to this feeble mortal life. You are ready to be reborn."
A portal opened behind Apocalypse as Essex closed his eyes, surrendering to the power that now surged around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of searing light as the two disappeared from the mansion. In what seemed like eternal darkness Essex suddenly felt pain, it was pulsing from a mere itch to an excruciating almost maddening pain, as though every cell in his body was being torn apart and reassembled by forces beyond his understanding. He could feel his mind fracturing, but he held on to life with his all for some reason.
As the transformation took hold, the memories of his former life began to fade, dissolving like mist in the light of Apocalypse's power. When the darkness unveiled, Essex opened his eyes, feeling the weight of his new form. He felt it, the shackles that bound to death has been torn.
Looking at himself in a mirror that Nur summoned, he turned into an imposing figure with chalk-white skin, a glowing red diamond on his forehead, and solid red eyes that radiate a chilling malice. His sharply angular face, high collar, and sleek black slicked back hair gave him an aristocratic or even a vampiric appearance. Tall and muscular, he carries as an embodiment of intellect, cruelty, and eerie elegance.
Apocalypse stood before him, a dark grin on his face as he surveyed his creation. "Your former life is gone. You shall shed that mortal name and take a new one that is befitting your new existence." Apocalypse intoned, his voice resonating with a dark authority. Essex paused, his mind still clouded, but as he searched for a name, he remembered the last word his wife had uttered, the single, hateful rebuke that had shattered him to his core. It resonated with him, filling the hollow shell of his soul with a dark satisfaction.
"Sinister," he said, his voice low, but filled with a newfound sense of purpose. "That is who I am. That is what I will be called." Apocalypse nodded approvingly. "Yes, my Sinister. You will be my hand, my eyes in this world. With your knowledge, and your skills, you shall help me shape the future of this entire planet."
'It was all about dominating the world from the very beginning.' Sinister thought as he bowed his head, realizing his folly and feeling the final remnants of Nathaniel Essex fall away. In their place, there was only cold purpose, an unwavering dedication to Apocalypse's grand design. He had shed the frailties of humanity, left behind the burdens of love, and embraced his new identity as the one who would shepherd humanity toward Apocalypse's vision.
'This is good too...' From that day forward, he was Sinister, a man forged in the image of darkness, bound to an eternal servitude with no hope of redemption. He would shape the future, as Apocalypse had commanded, not as a man, but as a creature of absolute purpose, willing to cross any boundary, commit any atrocity in the pursuit of his master's vision. He did not care anymore, he only saw his goal.
He looked toward the shadowed world that awaited him, Sinister felt the stirrings of ambition once more, an ambition far darker than anything he had once held as Nathaniel Essex. For now, he understood what it meant to embrace true power, to surrender entirely to the will of something greater. He was reborn, a sinister shadow of the man he had once been.