"You've been researching for years with nothing to show for it. Why not try something else?"
Samia's tone was sharp, but there was a thread of concern beneath it as she leaned against the doorframe. The room smelled faintly of sterilizing agents, and the rhythmic clicking of keys filled the silence.
Dr. Elias didn't respond immediately. Dressed in his lab coat, he stared at the screen with unwavering focus, his fingers flying over the keyboard. When he finally turned to her, a slow, almost unsettling smile spread across his face. For a moment, he looked like any other scientist lost in his work—until he blinked.
The motion was unnatural, his eyelids sliding horizontally across his eyes like a lizard's.
"Samia," he said, his voice calm but electric with excitement, "I've figured it out. This time, it will work."
She opened her mouth to respond, but he was already on his feet, moving past her with an urgency that demanded she follow. They made their way through the sterile corridors of the facility, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a cold glow on the walls.
The reinforced chamber was a stark contrast to the rest of the building. Thick steel doors hissed as they opened, and the hum of machinery grew louder as they stepped inside. In the center of the room stood a massive contraption—a web of wires, tubes, and blinking monitors surrounding a sleek, cylindrical core.
"What is it this time?" Samia asked, her arms crossed tightly against her chest.
Dr. Elias didn't answer. Instead, he moved with practiced precision, attaching cables and adjusting dials. The air felt heavier here, charged with the anticipation of something monumental—or catastrophic.
"Get your goggles," he said at last, stepping behind the protective glass. He tapped the side of his own goggles, the lenses catching the faint blue glow of the machine.
Samia hesitated. She had seen him fail before. Years of promises and miscalculations had made her wary, but there was something different in his demeanor this time—something unsettlingly confident. Reluctantly, she turned and jogged back to the lab to retrieve her goggles.
The first explosion hit when she was halfway down the hall.
The floor bucked beneath her, and she stumbled, her heart leaping into her throat. A deep, resonating boom echoed through the building, followed by a blaring alarm.
"Dr. Elias!" she shouted, spinning around. Smoke and dust billowed toward her, and the acrid scent of burning wires filled the air. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, cutting off her path back to the reinforced chamber.
And then she saw it.
Through the swirling haze, a glowing orb hovered in the wreckage, pulsating with a light that seemed alive. It started small, no bigger than her fist, but it was growing—expanding with an eerie, deliberate rhythm. The hum it emitted was low and bone-deep, vibrating through the air and into her chest.
"No, no, no," she muttered, backing away. Every instinct screamed at her to run.
She turned and bolted for the exit, her shoes skidding on the slick floor as she raced against the inevitable. She had barely reached the stairwell when a second explosion ripped through the building.
The force of it threw her forward, and she hit the ground hard. Her vision blurred as heat and light engulfed her. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the structure groan as it gave way entirely.
Then, everything went black.
A pool of blood crept across the ground, its crimson trail illuminated by flickering flames. Adam's head swam as he struggled to make sense of the chaos before him. Two figures clashed nearby, their movements brutal and relentless. He couldn't tell friend from foe.
Someone suddenly sat him up.
"Adam?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and weak.
There was no response. Instead, a calm but urgent voice said, "You're going to be okay."
Adam's vision sharpened momentarily, just long enough to see a streak of fire blazing across the sky. A ball of flame plummeted toward the earth, trailing smoke and lighting up the night like a second sun. As it crashed, the ground trembled beneath him.
He forced himself to his feet, his mind still fuzzy but his curiosity sharper than his fear. He instinctively checked himself for injuries. No blood. His body ached, but he was alive. The fiery object now burned brightly in the distance, casting long shadows across the sand.
"Kid, stay back!" a man's voice barked, an arm thrust out to block Adam's path. "It might be dangerous."
Adam looked up at him, confused. "You ran into me back there."
The man snorted. "You mean saved you from being squashed."
A sudden pop and fizz interrupted them. The flaming object hissed as a hatch opened, revealing the jagged silhouette of a man stumbling out. He was covered in blood, his steps uneven as he approached.
"He needs help!" Adam shouted, rushing toward the man.
The stranger collapsed, but before Adam could catch him, the man thrust a bundle wrapped in cloth into his hands.
"Take care of it," the man rasped, his voice barely audible. "Quickly. Kid, I'm trying to help you. Listen to me."
"It's Adam," he corrected, his brow furrowing as he unwrapped the cloth. "And it's just a—"
His breath caught. It wasn't a weapon or a device. It was a baby, small and quiet, swaddled in what looked like metallic fabric.
Two more shuttles streaked through the sky and slammed into the earth minutes apart. Their hatches opened, revealing three figures. Two stepped out from one shuttle and stood back, while a single figure from the other began walking toward them.
"Hand over the child," the newcomer demanded in a voice that grated like metal on stone.
Adam blinked. "Mr. Saint?"
The figure cocked its head. "The name is Havok. Don't worry. Just give them the baby."
Adam hesitated, clutching the child tighter. He took a step forward, but before he could hand it over, the baby liquified.
"What—what did you do?" Havok roared, dropping to his knees and scooping at the sand as if trying to recover the liquid. The ground absorbed it too quickly, leaving only a faint shimmer behind.
Havok turned toward Adam, his face twisted with fury. "You—"
"Emac!" a commanding voice cut through the tension. Emac one of the men who walked out of the shuttle restrained Havok.
A much older man had stepped forward, his voice calm but authoritative. The three newcomers huddled together, their whispers urgent.
Finally, one of them—a younger man with sharp features—stepped toward Adam.
"He's coming with us," he said firmly, grabbing Adam's arm.
The older man sighed. "Spam, amicably. Remember?"
"Please?" Spam added, though his tone lacked sincerity.
Without waiting for a response, Spam yanked Adam forward. Then, with a strange shimmer, he split into two. One copy dragged Adam toward their shuttle while the other stood back, blocking Havok's path.
"Is that supposed to scare me?" Havok snarled, lunging forward. As if Emac let go of him.
The second Spam ducked under his swing, twisting Havok's arm behind his back in a practiced move. With a swift kick behind the knees, he brought Havok down and pinned him to the ground.
The others boarded the shuttles, engines roaring to life. Within moments, they were airborne.
Adam fought against his captors, thrashing and shouting, but a cold mist sprayed over him. His strength drained instantly, and his vision blurred. He was dimly aware of being dragged aboard the shuttle, his thoughts growing foggy as the drug took hold.
The trip felt endless. His body remained still, but his mind drifted in and out of awareness. He caught glimpses of alien landscapes through the shuttle's windows—towering spires of glass, endless deserts of black sand, and skies that shimmered with unfamiliar colors.
When the drug finally began to wear off, Adam found himself lying on a gurney, his arms strapped down. He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed his head back.
"Stay still," a woman's voice instructed.
He glanced up at her, his breath catching as he noticed her eyes. When she blinked, her eyelids slid horizontally—just like Dr. Elias.
Tests were run. He was poked, prodded, scanned. Eventually, he woke in a small, sterile room, dressed in strange clothes and shoes that fit a little too perfectly.
"Aliens," he muttered to himself, pacing the tiny space. "I've been abducted by aliens. Great."
Hours passed before the door finally slid open. He peeked out cautiously and froze. At the end of the hallway stood a raptor-like creature, its yellow eyes fixed on him. Without thinking, he retreated back into his cell and shut the door.
A while later, a man entered. He was tall and human-looking, but his presence felt… off. He stared at Adam for a long moment before speaking.
"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he said. "Follow me, and I'll explain everything."
The man turned and walked out. Adam hesitated, then stepped into the hallway.
Adam followed the man into a stark, dimly lit room. The hum of hidden machinery filled the air, the walls smooth and metallic, with no visible seams or adornments. At the center of the room stood a circular table, surrounded by eight chairs.
Four of the chairs were already occupied. Adam recognized the occupants immediately.
The first was Spam—or rather, one version of him—leaning back casually, his sharp features twisted into a smirk. The second was the older man who had commanded lead. His calm, calculating eyes gave away nothing. And the third? The copy of Spam who had physically dragged Adam aboard the shuttle. The fourth was the one the older man called Emac.
Adam stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You," he said, his voice low and venomous.
The rest of the chairs were empty. The man who had led him into the room gestured for him to sit, then took the seat furthest from them.
"Welcome, Adam," the older man said. His voice was deep, steady, and disarmingly polite. "I imagine you have questions."
"You think?" Adam snapped, his frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. "You abduct me, gas me, throw me in some kind of alien lab—and now you want to have a chat? What the hell is going on?"
The older man held up a hand, silencing Spam before he could retort. "I understand your anger. But let me assure you, we did not abduct you out of malice. In fact, we may have saved your life."
"Saved me?" Adam barked, standing abruptly. "From what? The baby?"
Silence fell over the room, thick and heavy. Spam's smirk faltered, and the older man leaned forward, steepling his fingers.
"Adam," the older man began carefully, "what exactly did you see?"
Adam blinked, confused by the sudden change in tone. "What do you mean? I saw a baby—a real baby. The guy from the shuttle handed it to me, and then… then it just…" He trailed off, his throat tightening as he remembered the way the baby had liquified in his hands.
"It wasn't human, was it?" Adam said quietly, more to himself than to them.
"No," the older man confirmed, his voice grim. "It wasn't."
Adam sank back into his chair, his head spinning. "What was it, then? And why did it liquify?"
The older man exchanged a glance with the others. For a moment, no one spoke. Finally, he said, "That 'baby,' as you called it, was an entity far older and more dangerous than you can imagine. What you saw wasn't its true form. It was an interface—a vessel designed to interact with humans. When it liquified, it meant the interface failed."
Adam stared at him, stunned. "Failed? What does that mean for me?"
"That depends," the older man said, his tone cautious. "Did it touch you before it dissolved?"
Adam hesitated, his mind racing. "It handed me the baby—er, the interface. Why?"
Spam whistled low, muttering, "Figures."
The older man shot him a warning look before returning his attention to Adam. "If it transferred something to you, we need to know. Immediately."
"Transferred what?" Adam demanded.
The older man stood, his movements slow and deliberate. "A fragment of its consciousness. A seed. If it chose you, then you are no longer just an ordinary human. You may carry something… powerful.
Adam's stomach twisted. "So, what happens now? Are you going to experiment on me or something?"
"We're not your enemy," the older man said. "We want to help you. But first, we need to test you. If that fragment is inside you, then you're more valuable—and more dangerous—than you realize."
Adam didn't trust him, but he couldn't deny the truth in his words.
"Fine," Adam said, his voice shaking slightly. "Test me. But if I don't like what you're doing, I'm out."
The older man nodded, his expression unreadable. "Fair enough. For now, rest. Tomorrow, we begin."
A loud bang tore through the night, yanking Adam from restless sleep. He sat up, heart pounding, as muffled shouts and hurried footsteps echoed through the building. He scrambled to his feet and cracked the door open, peering into the hallway.
It was chaos. People ran in every direction, their faces pale with fear. Adam stepped into the corridor, trying to make sense of the panic, when a familiar figure appeared, striding toward him with urgency.
The man from before—the one who had first escorted him here—grabbed Adam by the arm without a word.
"What's going on?" Adam asked, his voice laced with panic.
The man didn't answer, his grip firm as he pulled Adam down the hallway.
"Hey! Let me go!" Adam shouted, yanking his arm free after a few steps.
The man turned, his face tense. "Sir Paps ordered me to get you to safety. Now move!"
Reluctantly, Adam followed. The air was electric with tension, and the faint sound of a rhythmic, pulsating hum grew louder with each step.
As they reached the far side of the building, Adam stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.
In the open space ahead, Emac, Paps, and Spam stood side by side, their postures tense. Floating several feet above the ground was Havok, his body glowing with a pulsating, otherworldly energy. The hum emanated from him, each pulse growing louder and faster.
"I thought you said he was dead?" Paps barked, his voice sharp as he glanced at Emac.
Emac clenched his fists, energy crackling at his sides. "He was dead!" he shouted over the noise.
Havok raised his hands, and beams of searing light erupted toward them. The trio scattered, moving with precision as they dodged the deadly blasts.
Adam stood frozen in the doorway, his mind reeling. This couldn't be real.
The three attackers didn't hesitate. Each one split into identical copies of themselves, their movements synchronized as they charged Havok from all directions.
But Havok was stronger this time. His glowing aura flared, sending some of the copies crashing back before they could even get close. Those who managed to reach him were met with brutal force.
"We need help!" Emac shouted, barely avoiding another beam.
Spam grimaced, then split again, creating a swarm of fifty identical copies. The air filled with the sound of their unified footsteps as they converged on Havok, their sheer numbers overwhelming him for a moment.
The hum grew louder, vibrating through the air, and Havok's aura began to pulse erratically.
"Get back!" Emac yelled, but it was too late.
A blinding explosion of energy erupted from Havok, the force throwing everyone across the room. Adam shielded his face as debris flew past him, the impact knocking him to the ground.
When the dust settled, Havok was gone.
Emac, Paps, and Spam slowly got to their feet, their movements sluggish and pained. Spam looked around, surveying the room. His copies were strewn across the floor, lifeless. Each one had died differently—crushed skulls, broken necks, twisted limbs.
Spam's face hardened as he walked to one of his duplicates still clinging to life. The copy coughed weakly, blood staining his lips as he tried to speak.
Spam knelt beside him, his expression unreadable. "It's okay," he said quietly. With a swift motion, he snapped the copy's neck.
The sound echoed in the heavy silence.
Adam, still standing in the doorway, stared in horror. His stomach churned, and his legs felt like lead.
Spam turned, meeting Adam's wide-eyed gaze. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"You shouldn't have seen that," Spam said coldly, his tone devoid of emotion.
Adam stumbled back, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "What… what are you people?" he whispered.
Spam didn't answer. Instead, he rose to his feet, brushing blood from his hands.
"Get him out of here," Spam said to the man who had brought Adam.
Before Adam could protest, the man grabbed his arm again, dragging him down the hallway as Spam turned back to the carnage.