The sun rose over the quiet streets, casting a golden glow on the campus. Despite the chaos of the night before, Lucius and Mia walked side by side to their morning class, trying their best to appear as if everything was normal. Lucius had bags under his eyes, but he forced a faint smile whenever Mia glanced his way, trying to reassure her.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Mia asked for the tenth time, her voice soft but laced with concern.
"I'm fine," Lucius replied, though his voice lacked conviction. "Let's just get through today, alright? We'll figure everything else out later."
Mia hesitated but nodded. "Alright. Just… try to stay out of trouble, okay?"
Lucius smirked faintly, the weight of her words settling on him. "I'll do my best."
The class buzzed with chatter as students filed in, settling into their usual seats. Lucius and Mia entered quietly, slipping into the back row. Mia pulled out her notebook, while Lucius leaned back in his chair, his mind far from the lesson.
"Morning, everyone," Dr. Sarah said as she entered the room, her voice cutting through the noise. "Before we begin, I'd like to introduce a new student joining us today."
All eyes turned to the front of the room as a tall, lean young man stepped forward. He had sharp features, dark, slicked-back hair, and piercing gray eyes that scanned the room with calculated precision. He carried himself with an air of confidence, his movements deliberate and controlled.
"This is Nathan Hale," Dr. Sarah continued, gesturing to him. "He just transferred here and will be joining our class. Nathan, feel free to introduce yourself."
Nathan's lips curled into a polite smile, but his eyes betrayed a sense of cold detachment. "Thank you, Dr. Sarah. It's a pleasure to be here. I'm looking forward to getting to know all of you." His voice was smooth, almost too smooth, and carried a tone of practiced sincerity.
Lucius's brow furrowed as he observed Nathan. Something about him felt… off. His demeanor was too composed, his gaze too intense.
Nathan scanned the room, his eyes briefly locking with Lucius's. A flicker of recognition passed through his expression, almost imperceptible, before he moved to an empty seat near the center of the room.
Mia leaned toward Lucius, whispering, "Is it just me, or does he seem a little… strange?"
Lucius nodded slightly. "You're not imagining it. There's something about him that doesn't sit right with me."
Later that morning, Lucius and Mia sat outside on a bench, their books open but mostly ignored. The warm breeze did little to ease Lucius's growing unease.
"He keeps looking over here," Mia whispered, nodding discreetly toward Nathan, who sat under a tree a few yards away, pretending to read a book.
Lucius glanced up, catching Nathan's gaze for the second time that day. Nathan didn't look away, instead offering a faint, almost mocking smile before returning to his book.
"I don't like this," Lucius muttered. "He's too interested in us. It's not normal."
"Do you think he knows… about last night?" Mia asked, her voice low.
Lucius shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm not taking any chances."
Back in the hidden surveillance room, the spy's earpiece buzzed as he subtly spoke under his breath.
"Director, I've made contact," Nathan said, his eyes still on Lucius and Mia from across the courtyard. "He's suspicious of me, but that's expected. I'll proceed as planned."
The voice of the director crackled through the earpiece. "Good. Maintain your cover. Your job is to observe and report. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary."
The woman's voice followed, calm yet commanding. "Keep an eye on the girl too. She seems to be his anchor. If we need leverage, she'll be useful."
Nathan's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Understood."
He closed the book he wasn't actually reading and stood, stretching casually before walking away. But not before casting one last glance toward Lucius and Mia.
Throughout the day, Lucius couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Nathan was always nearby—whether in class, the cafeteria, or even the library. He never approached, but his presence was constant, like a shadow lingering just out of reach.
"Lucius, we need to do something about this," Mia said as they walked home together after classes. "He's not just some random new student. He's watching you. Us."
"I know," Lucius replied, his voice tense. "But I don't want to jump to conclusions. We don't have proof he's after me."
Mia frowned. "And what if he is? What if he knows about… your alter?"
Lucius clenched his fists, his mind racing. "If he does, then we're in more danger than I thought."
As they reached Lucius's apartment building, he paused at the entrance, glancing over his shoulder. He didn't see Nathan, but the uneasy feeling in his chest hadn't lessened.
"We'll figure this out, Mia," he said, more to convince himself than her. "But for now, we act like nothing's wrong. If he's watching us, we can't let him know we're onto him."
Mia hesitated but nodded. "Alright. But promise me you'll be careful."
Lucius gave her a faint smile. "I will. I promise."
As they entered the building, neither noticed the figure standing across the street, watching them disappear inside. Nathan lowered the phone he had been holding and sent a quick message:
Subject is cautious but unaware of the full extent of surveillance. Proceeding with phase two.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned, blending into the crowd as he walked away.
The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the small apartment. Lucius sat on the couch, staring at the floor with a furrowed brow. Mia was in the kitchen, making tea. The silence between them felt heavy, unspoken worries lingering in the air.
"You're awfully quiet," Mia said, breaking the silence as she brought two mugs of tea to the coffee table. "Still thinking about him?"
Lucius nodded, wrapping his hands around the warm mug but not drinking. "I can't shake the feeling he's connected to all of this. Ever since that night with Vince and his gang, it's like I have a target on my back."
Mia sat down next to him, her expression soft but serious. "If he's a threat, we'll deal with it. But you don't have to do this alone, Lucius."
He gave her a faint smile. "Thanks, Mia. That means a lot."
The conversation was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Lucius froze, his grip tightening on the mug.
"Were you expecting anyone?" Mia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No," Lucius replied, standing slowly. He gestured for Mia to stay back as he approached the door, his heart pounding.
"Who is it?" he called out, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Delivery," a man's voice replied, casual but unfamiliar.
Lucius frowned. He hadn't ordered anything. He glanced through the peephole and saw two men standing outside, holding a plain brown package. His instincts screamed that something was off.
"I didn't order anything," Lucius said, his voice firm.
"It's a gift. Must be from a friend," the man replied, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone.
Lucius stepped back from the door, turning to Mia. "Go to the bedroom and lock the door. Now."
"What? Why?" Mia's eyes widened with alarm.
"Just do it," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, Mia nodded and hurried to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Lucius took a deep breath and opened the door slightly, leaving the chain lock in place. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but you're not coming in."
The man outside smirked. "Smart guy. But we're not leaving until we talk."
Before Lucius could respond, the second man slammed his shoulder into the door, snapping the chain lock. The door flew open, and the two men stepped inside, their imposing figures filling the small space.
Lucius backed up, his fists clenched. "I don't know who sent you, but you're making a big mistake."
One of the men chuckled. "Oh, we know exactly who you are, Lucius. Or should we say… what you are?"
Lucius's stomach dropped. They knew.
The second man stepped forward. "You've been causing quite a bit of trouble. The director isn't happy. But we're here to make sure you don't cause any more."
Lucius felt the familiar pull deep within him, the alter clawing to the surface. His vision blurred, his pulse quickened. But he fought it, clenching his jaw.
"No," he muttered under his breath. "I'm not letting you out."
The first man tilted his head. "Talking to yourself now? That's cute. But it won't help you."
One of them lunged at Lucius, swinging a fist. Lucius ducked, his instincts taking over. He landed a punch to the man's ribs, sending him stumbling back.
The second man grabbed Lucius by the arm, twisting it behind his back. Pain shot through him, and he struggled, gritting his teeth.
"Let me out," the alter whispered in his mind, its voice cold and demanding.
"No," Lucius hissed, struggling against the man's grip.
The first man recovered and approached with a knife. "You should've just cooperated."
Before the blade could reach him, a loud crash came from the bedroom. The sound of shattering glass filled the apartment.
"Mia!" Lucius shouted, panic overtaking him.
He felt his resolve crumble. If Mia was in danger, he had no choice.
"Fine," he muttered. "Do what you have to. Just save her."
The moment he let go, the alter surged forward, taking control. Lucius's expression darkened, his movements suddenly more fluid and calculated.
The man holding him hesitated as he felt the shift. "What the hell—"
Lucius twisted free with ease, grabbing the man by the wrist and flipping him over his shoulder. The man hit the floor with a thud, groaning in pain.
The other man lunged with the knife, but Lucius sidestepped effortlessly, disarming him with a swift motion. He spun the knife in his hand before throwing it into the wall, narrowly missing the man's head.
"You messed with the wrong person," Lucius's voice was colder, more menacing.
The men exchanged panicked glances before bolting for the door, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape.
Lucius didn't chase them. Instead, he turned toward the bedroom, his heart racing. He kicked the door open to find Mia standing near the broken window, holding a shattered lamp as a makeshift weapon.
"Lucius!" she cried, relief washing over her face.
"It's okay," he said, his voice softening. "They're gone."
Mia dropped the lamp and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "What the hell was that? Who were those guys?"
"I don't know," Lucius admitted, his voice trembling. "But it's not over."
The dimly lit room hummed with the soft buzz of computer monitors. Nathan leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the footage of Lucius's latest confrontation. The video replayed on a loop—Lucius's alter brutally taking down the two intruders with ease.
The director stood at the center of the room, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the footage. The woman, standing beside him, seemed deep in thought, her finger tapping rhythmically against her chin.
Nathan broke the silence. "We've seen enough. It's clear now—Lucius is dangerous."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous? Or resourceful? There's a difference, Nathan."
Nathan gestured toward the screen. "Look at him. That wasn't just self-defense. The way he moved, the precision, the ruthlessness—that's not normal. He didn't just want to protect himself; he wanted to dominate. What happens when he loses control entirely?"
The director finally spoke, his voice calm but commanding. "He's not dangerous unless he's provoked. We've been observing him for days now. Lucius resists the alter as much as he can. It's not like he's out there looking for trouble."
"But trouble keeps finding him," Nathan argued, leaning forward. "And every time it does, he gets closer to embracing that… thing inside him. What happens when it takes over permanently? Are we just going to stand by and wait for him to become a threat?"
The woman smirked. "You're assuming he's not already a threat. What if we're looking at this the wrong way? What if the alter isn't the problem but the solution? With the right guidance, someone like Lucius could be an asset."
Nathan scoffed. "An asset? That's a nice way of saying a weapon. He's unstable, unpredictable. You can't control someone like that."
The director raised a hand, silencing the brewing argument. "Enough. Both of you make valid points, but this isn't just about Lucius. It's about understanding what he is and what he's capable of. The alter is a part of him, and that makes him unique. We can't make rash decisions based on fear."
Nathan clenched his jaw but remained silent, his eyes narrowing at the footage. "So, what's the plan? Just keep watching him?"
"For now," the director said, his tone decisive. "We need more data. We've only seen the alter in action a handful of times. We don't know its limits, its motivations, or how much control Lucius has over it. Until we do, we observe."
The woman nodded, her gaze still fixed on the screen. "And the new agent in his class? Has she reported anything unusual?"
Nathan shook his head. "Not yet. But she's only just started. If Lucius suspects her, he hasn't shown it."
"Good," the director said. "Her presence will keep him on edge, but not enough to push him over. We need to see how he handles himself in normal circumstances before we decide what to do."
Nathan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And what if he is dangerous? What if waiting costs us?"
The director turned to him, his expression unreadable. "Then we'll do what we have to. But until we're sure, Lucius stays under observation. No interference, no unnecessary risks."
The woman smirked, leaning against the console. "Let's not forget, Nathan. There's more to Lucius than what we see. The alter may be dangerous, but there's something about him—something we don't fully understand yet. And until we do, we can't afford to underestimate him."
Nathan crossed his arms, his voice laced with doubt. "I just hope we're not making a mistake by giving him so much leeway."
The director's eyes lingered on the screen, where the footage froze on Lucius's face as the alter took over. "Mistake or not, we'll find out soon enough."
The room fell silent, the tension thick as they continued to watch the footage, each lost in their thoughts. The director's gaze darkened, his mind already calculating the next move.
The container yard was eerily silent, the dim glow of floodlights casting long shadows across the maze of shipping containers. The cold night air carried a faint tang of salt from the nearby sea. In the heart of the yard, two men stood in a secluded corner, exchanging a small package and a briefcase.
"Here's the stuff," the drug dealer said, his voice low and gravelly as he handed over a tightly sealed package. "Top quality. Don't get any better than this."
The other man, tall and shrouded in a long coat, opened the briefcase to reveal neatly stacked bundles of cash. His face was obscured by the shadow of his hood. He examined the package, nodded, and handed over the briefcase.
"Pleasure doing business," the dealer said with a sly grin, tucking the briefcase under his arm.
But before he could take a step, the shadows around them shifted. From behind the containers, ten men emerged, each wielding makeshift weapons—metal pipes, bats, and chains. They surrounded the man in the coat, blocking all routes of escape.
The leader of the ambush, a burly figure with a scar running across his cheek, stepped forward. "You didn't think you could come into our territory and deal without paying tribute, did you?" he growled.
The man in the coat tilted his head slightly, his posture relaxed despite the menacing presence around him. "Tribute?" His voice was smooth, almost mocking.
The scarred man smirked, tapping a metal pipe against his palm. "Yeah. You know, a little payment to ensure you stay in one piece. Leave the money, the goods, and maybe we'll let you crawl out of here."
The drug dealer looked panicked, realizing he was caught in the crossfire. "H-Hey, I'm just the middleman here! Don't lump me in with this guy!"
The man in the coat chuckled—a low, ominous sound that echoed in the still air. He slowly removed his hood, revealing a sharp-featured face with an unsettling smile. "You should've stayed in your shadows," he said, his tone dripping with amusement.
The scarred man scowled. "What the hell are you laughing at?"
And then it happened. The man's laughter grew louder, more unhinged, as his eyes began to glow an intense, fiery red. The aura around him shifted, a palpable energy radiating from his body. The ten men hesitated, their bravado faltering as the atmosphere turned suffocating.
"What the—" one of the thugs stammered, stepping back instinctively.
The man tilted his head, his grin stretching wider. "You boys picked the wrong man to ambush."
Before anyone could react, he moved. In a blur of motion, he lunged at the nearest thug, disarming him with a single swipe and sending him flying into a container with a sickening thud. The others barely had time to register what had happened before he was on them, a whirlwind of precision and ferocity.
The scarred man swung his pipe, but the glowing-eyed figure caught it mid-swing, snapping it in half with his bare hands. He grabbed the man by the throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.
"Let me go!" the scarred man choked out, struggling in vain.
The man leaned in close, his glowing eyes burning into the thug's soul. "You wanted tribute? Here's mine." With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the scarred man into a stack of crates, which collapsed on impact.
The remaining thugs scattered, their courage evaporating as they realized they were no match for this monster. But he wasn't done. One by one, he hunted them down, his movements almost predatory. He didn't just fight; he toyed with them, laughing as they begged for mercy.
The drug dealer, frozen in fear, watched the carnage unfold. He clutched the briefcase tightly, praying he wouldn't be next.
When the last thug fell, groaning in pain, the glowing-eyed man turned back to the dealer. "You're lucky," he said, his voice cold and sharp. "I don't waste my time on small fry."
The dealer nodded frantically, his legs shaking. "Y-Yeah, sure. You won't see me again, I swear!"
The man's eyes dimmed, the glow fading as he pulled his hood back up. He stepped over the fallen thugs, his boots crunching against the gravel, and disappeared into the shadows of the container yard, leaving nothing but chaos in his wake.
The drug dealer collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. Around him, the groans of the defeated echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of the storm that had passed.