I'm jolted awake by the blaring alarm. My room is dim, the shadows pooling around me feel heavy, almost as if they're pressing down. I sit up, the patches of rough, darkened skin across my chest and arms are thicker than before, harder, almost scalier. The reflection in the mirror is a twisted reminder of what I'm becoming. Each glance at it stirs a feeling of nausea.
I hesitate.
There's an itch beneath my skin, a restless energy I can't shake, but the mission can't wait. I drag on my uniform, though it feels tight, like my own skin is rejecting it. I can barely breathe in it, and it's a constant reminder that I might tear apart, literally and figuratively, at any second.
The briefing room is alive with activity, though every whisper feels like it's directed at me. Titan's here, his imposing figure and gleaming metallic suit standing out like a dark omen. His disapproval is as tangible as the tension that lingers in the air. When the lead operative's voice cuts through the murmurs, it's sharp as a blade.
"Today's mission is critical. Titan, you're leading. Velocity, you're on support." She pauses, her gaze drilling into me. "Get in, get the intel, and get out, quietly. We can't afford any more failures." Her voice is biting, and the weight of it almost makes me buckle.
They are setting me up again.
The door opens abruptly, and a voice calls, "Titan, we're ready to move." Titan's eyes flick to mine, his frustration unmasked. He doesn't have to say it, I'm on thin ice, and he's done covering for me.
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The warehouse looms like a dead animal, hollow and rotting. Titan's team, Aria, Flint, and Lumina, are precise, deadly. They work as one: Aria's sound waves disorient guards from afar, Flint molds the ground, creating barriers and setting traps, while Lumina's light slices through the shadows, pinpointing weaknesses in our enemies' defenses. They're a well-oiled machine; I'm the loose bolt, the variable no one can predict.
I'm trying to match their pace, but the heat inside me is building. It's not just warmth. it's molten, churning through my veins, making my skin prickle with an intensity that blurs my focus. Every step I take leaves faint, dark scorch marks. Titan's jaw clenches as he glances back, his eyes filled with a mix of exasperation and barely veiled contempt.
"Stay focused, Velocity," he snaps, his tone biting. "One slip, and you'll bring this whole place down on us."
The words burn, but I swallow them down, trying to steady my pulse. I push forward, my gaze fixing on a large crate bearing Ernesh's mark. As I make a move for it, pain flares in my chest, a searing knot that spreads outward. I drop to my knees, gasping, the ground around me starting to warp from the heat radiating off my skin.
Titan's team closes in, their figures blurring through my hazy vision. I hear Titan's voice, harsh and urgent. "Get it together, Velocity!"
But I can't, I'm losing control. The radiation is leaking from me now, crackling in the air like static. The walls around us tremble as if in response, groaning under the strain. Aria's sound waves reverberate, trying to stabilize the structure, Flint's powers reinforcing the ground, and Lumina's light attempts to contain the radiation in glowing barriers. But the chaos only intensifies. I'm a storm, tearing through the mission they tried so hard to control.
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Outside, the cool night air clashes with the inferno still raging inside me. My breaths come in ragged gasps as I lean against a wall, my hand leaving a charred handprint in the concrete. The city lights seem cruel, mocking me with their steady glow.
Titan approaches, his expression unreadable behind the visor. But his voice leaves no doubt. "You need to get a grip on yourself, Rhan. We can't keep risking lives because you can't control what you've become." Each word sinks like a stone, dragging me deeper into the weight of my own failure.
The team is left cleaning up my mess, their powers working overtime to patch together what's left of the mission. I try to say something, to apologize, but the words die in my throat. The darkness within me is spreading, and I don't know if I have the strength—or even the will—to fight it anymore.
As I turn away, heading into the night, I feel it, the growing hunger, the ache in my bones that whispers of ruin.
I'm scared.