I burst out of my apartment, my bag barely slung over one shoulder. A glance at my watch made my stomach drop—8:07 a.m. I was late. Not "maybe-I-can-slip-in-undetected" late, but "the-professor's-glaring-and-you're-screwed" late.
As I sprinted down the hall, I silently cursed my older sister. "Take morning classes," she said. "It won't be hard," she said. Man, I can't believe I fell for her jokes. Her sense of humor is seriously messed up.
The lecture hall loomed ahead, its doors ominously closed. I knocked, the sound sharp and urgent in the silent corridor. Inside, the professor glanced up, his expression devoid of sympathy. With deliberate slowness, he approached the door and opened it, his face creased in a smirk that made my stomach turn.
"Liam," he intoned, his voice dripping with condescension, "the test began thirty minutes ago. There isn't enough time remaining for you to complete it. Congratulations, you've just missed your midterms."
"Is there no way to make it up?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
"Unfortunately not," he replied, his smirk widening. The air between us seemed to hum with his disdain.
I clenched my fists, swallowing a retort. I knew I was at fault for being late, but his gleeful dismissal stung more than the consequences themselves. Spinning on my heel, I left the building, frustration radiating off me in waves.
Back at my apartment, I dropped my bag near the door and collapsed onto my bed, letting the weight of the morning press down on me.
"Dude, I thought you had midterms today," James called out from the bathroom, his voice bouncing off the tiled walls.
I let out a heavy sigh. "I did. Woke up late, and Prof. Johnson wouldn't let me take the test. I fucking hate that prick."
"Figures. I heard that guy acts like his three-credit course is the backbone of the entire curriculum," James said, stepping out of the bathroom.
"Yeah, well… I can still pull off a B+ if I grind out some extra credit," I muttered, dragging myself over to my desk.
Plopping down in the chair, I powered up my computer. I opened the familiar novel site and tried to find something to read. I don't even remember the reason for dropping the last novel I was reading.
James walked into my room drying his hair. "Liam, wanna hit up a party tonight? The football team's hosting. They're celebrating another win."
I glanced back at him, shrugging. "I'll think about it. Just text me the time and place, and I'll let you know."
James hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Still hung up about Maddie? Come on, man, it's been months. She's moved on—you should too—"
The sharp look I shot him cut him off mid-sentence.
"Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I won't bring it up again. But seriously, think about it. You could use a night out."
Nodding to James, I turned back to my game and played for a while. But after a few rounds, boredom set in, and I decided to hit the gym.
The gym was my sanctuary, a place where sweat and effort drowned out the noise of failure. As I stepped in, the familiar clang of weights and the rhythmic pounding of heavy bags greeted me. My trainer, Coach Ramirez, approached with his usual mix of enthusiasm and curiosity.
"Kid, every time you train, you blow me away," he said, shaking his head. "You sure you don't want to go pro?"
"I've told you before, Coach," I replied, wrapping my hands. "I'm not training to compete. I train so I can defend myself."
Coach sighed, his disappointment palpable. "Alright, alright. I get it. I won't ask again," he said, though his voice carried a hint of regret.
The session was grueling, as always, but satisfying. Each punch, kick, and grapple pushed my body to its limits, clearing my mind with the rhythm of controlled violence. By the time I was done, the weight of the day felt lighter.
Afterward, I headed home. James's words from earlier echoed in my mind. He wasn't wrong—I couldn't keep shutting everyone out.
I took a long shower and dressed up. Staring into the mirror, I studied my reflection. My beard was neatly trimmed, but my hair had grown out longer than usual. Spotting a hair tie on the counter, I swept my brown locks into a messy bun. Checking myself out, I couldn't help but smirk. Not bad.
Grabbing my keys, I got in my car and entered the party's address into the GPS. The streets were quiet, and I drove in a steady rhythm, my mind wandering.
Then it happened.
Out of nowhere, a speeding car barreled toward me. I didn't even have time to react before it slammed into me at full speed.
The world spun violently, the sound of metal crunching and glass shattering filling my ears. Disoriented, I realized I was upside down. Pain radiated through my limbs as blood dripped down my face, pooling beneath me. The sharp metallic tang filled my nose, choking me.
So this is how it ends. This is how I die.
As my vision blurred and my strength faded, memories surged unbidden into my mind. At first, they were joyful—family gatherings, moments of laughter and warmth. But as my childhood played out, the happiness twisted into anger and bitterness, the once-sweet memories souring into a painful reminder of everything I had lost. Closing my eyes for a final time I hoped that my sister won't be consumed by grief.
An orb of light suddenly appeared out of nowhere, pulsating with a faint, otherworldly glow. It hovered momentarily before moving toward the lifeless body of Liam. Without hesitation, it dove into the corpse.
Scanning soul for compatibility...
A mechanical voice echoed faintly as the orb began its work.
Scan complete.
Soul is 99.9% compatible.
Beginning system fusion
The voice continued as the light dimmed and brightened rhythmically.
3%...
29%...
51%...
77%...
99%... Fusion complete.
The orb exited Liam's body, its glow dimmed and vanished into the ether.
Somewhere in Aetherion
In a grand and opulent castle, a meticulously dressed maid worked in the lavishly outfitted kitchen. She was focused on her task, though to call it "preparing food" felt like a misnomer. Gripping a large jug adorned with intricate golden designs, she carefully poured a crimson liquid into an elegant wine glass. From a hidden pocket, she retrieved a vial filled with a clear liquid that glimmered faintly with golden sparkles. She added a precise measure of the mysterious substance to the glass, watching as the two fluids swirled together. Satisfied, she arranged the glass and the jug on a silver tray and departed the kitchen.
The maid moved through the castle's grand hallways with practiced grace. Every maid she passed greeted her with deep bows, a sign of their respect for her position. She finally arrived at her destination: an ornate double door. Pushing it open, she stepped into a richly decorated chamber. The room was vast, with a door on the far right leading to a bathroom and a wall lined with an impressive bookshelf. In the center stood two plush couches facing each other with a finely crafted coffee table between them. To the left, a grand bed was placed, where a frail young man sat propped up by pillows, his complexion almost matching the sheets.
"Liora, do you have my dinner?" the young man asked in a voice as soft as a whisper, his eyes lighting up briefly at her arrival.
"Yes, young master," the maid replied with a measured tone. She approached, handing him the glass. Without hesitation, the boy took it and drank deeply.
"You're the best, Liora," he said, offering her a weak smile.
The maid remained silent, standing by with a composed expression. A moment later, the man's face contorted in confusion, then horror. He clutched at his throat, his breaths coming in desperate, choking gasps. His entire body convulsed as if consumed by fire, the veins on his pale skin standing out vividly. The torment lasted for agonizing moments before his frail frame stilled, and his eyes closed for the final time.
Liora observed the lifeless boy for a moment, her face an unreadable mask. Once certain he was gone, she turned and left the room with measured steps, the sound of her heels echoing faintly in the silence.
Her next destination was another equally extravagant room elsewhere in the castle. This chamber was inhabited by an ethereal-looking woman, lounging casually on a plush couch. Her smirk widened as Liora entered, and he motioned for her to sit on the opposite couch.
"So?" She prompted, anticipation radiating off her.
"Young Master Liam has passed away," Liora reported coldly. "Though it took years, the poison finally worked."
The woman gloated hearing the news.
The woman leaned back, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "That abomination is finally dead."
Her laughter echoed through the room as she savored her victory. After a moment, she dismissed Liora with a wave but called out one final remark as she turned to leave. "Don't worry, Liora. I'll release your son safe and sound—right after the bastard is buried."
The maid didn't respond or look back, though her eyes burned with silent fury. If her gaze could kill, the boy would have perished a hundred times over.
Returning to her quarters, Liora collapsed onto her bed, her composure cracking at last. She clenched her jaw, her teeth grinding audibly as her anger surged.
Meanwhile, back in Liam's room, the boy's lifeless body lay untouched on the bed. Without warning, a faint, unremarkable white orb materialized in the air. It hovered silently for a moment before emitting a soft glow. A beam of light shined on the boy's body.
Scanning body for compatibility.
Scan complete. Body is 99.9%
Beginning assimilation.
4%...
17%...
29%...
42%...
57%...
71%
89%
99%
100% assimilation complete.