The next day, the Alter, still in control of Lucius's body, woke up with a smirk. As he strolled into the college campus, his presence radiated confidence. His once quiet demeanor was replaced by a charismatic charm that drew people to him effortlessly. More and more students started to gravitate toward him. They found his wit and bold personality captivating—nothing like the Lucius they had known before.
During lunchtime, he sat at the center of a group of new acquaintances. Laughter and chatter filled the air as he cracked jokes and shared bold opinions about topics Lucius would never have touched. The students around him admired his confidence, but one person wasn't amused—Mia.
Sitting a few tables away, Mia watched the Alter, her gaze filled with unease. She couldn't explain why, but this version of Lucius didn't feel right. He wasn't the soft-spoken, kind-hearted friend she knew. There was an edge to him, something unsettling.
"Hey, Mia!" one of her classmates called out. "Why aren't you sitting with Lucius? He seems like a lot of fun today!"
Mia forced a smile and shrugged. "I just... have some other things to do."
She grabbed her tray and left the cafeteria, her heart heavy with doubt. She couldn't bring herself to confront him, but the distance between them was growing.
That afternoon, the Alter noticed Mia walking away quickly after class. She had avoided him all day, barely speaking a word. He leaned against a wall, watching her with narrowed eyes.
"She's pulling away," he muttered to himself. "Smart girl... maybe too smart."
For a brief moment, something like regret flickered across his face, but he quickly shook it off. "Let her go," he thought. "If she can't handle this version of me, then it's better this way."
Still, a part of him felt unsettled. Mia's absence left a void he couldn't quite fill with the attention of others.
Meanwhile, Nathan—the spy acting as the new student—was watching the Alter closely. Over the past few days, he had started asking questions that felt too specific, too probing.
"Hey, Lucius," Nathan said casually as they walked out of class together. "You've been... different lately. More confident, more... decisive. What's changed?"
The Alter smirked but didn't slow his pace. "What can I say? People evolve."
Nathan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sure, but it's almost like you're a completely different person. Like, not just a change in attitude—something deeper. You ever feel like... you're not yourself?"
The Alter stopped walking and turned to face Nathan, his eyes sharp and calculating. "What exactly are you getting at, Nathan?"
Nathan held his hands up in mock surrender. "Relax, man. Just curious. You've been getting a lot of attention lately. People talk, you know?"
The Alter forced a laugh and clapped Nathan on the shoulder. "Well, let them talk. I've got nothing to hide."
But as they continued walking, the Alter's mind raced. This guy isn't just curious. He knows something... but how much?
The next day after college, Nathan sent the Alter a message: Meet me at the old park near the west side. We need to talk.
The Alter smirked at the boldness of the message but decided to humor him. He arrived at the abandoned park just as the sun was setting. The place was eerily quiet, with rusting playground equipment and overgrown weeds giving it a desolate feel.
The abandoned park stretched out beneath the pale glow of the moon, the wind whispering through the overgrown weeds and creaking the rusted swings. The air felt heavy, charged with an impending storm of violence. The Alter, standing casually with his hands in his pockets, stared at Nathan with a faint smirk, his confidence radiating like a flame. Nathan stood opposite him, his demeanor calm and composed, his orange eyes faintly glowing in the dim light.
"You've been following me, haven't you?" The Alter tilted his head, his tone mocking. "You must be bad at your job if you got caught."
Nathan didn't respond immediately. He simply stared, his glowing eyes burning like embers in the dark. "I wasn't hiding," Nathan said finally, his voice steady and deliberate. "I wanted you to notice me."
The Alter raised an eyebrow, amused. "Well, you've got my attention. Now what? You're gonna bore me to death with your cryptic talk?"
Nathan took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. "You don't understand what you are. And until you do, you're a danger to everyone around you."
The smirk on the Alter's face faded, replaced by a sharp glare. "Danger?" he echoed, his voice dropping. "You don't know a damn thing about me."
Nathan sighed, as if he'd been expecting that response. "I know more than you think. I know you're not the real one, for starters. You're just… the leftover pieces of someone broken."
That did it. The Alter's eyes flashed with anger, and before Nathan could react, he lunged forward, shoving him with immense force. Nathan flew backward like a ragdoll, slamming into a rusted metal fence with a loud crash.
For a moment, there was silence. The Alter stood there, breathing heavily, his fists clenched. "I'm getting real tired of people like you trying to tell me who I am," he growled.
But then, to his surprise, Nathan got to his feet, brushing off his jacket as if nothing had happened. His orange eyes glowed brighter, illuminating the shadows around him. "I was hoping you'd do that," Nathan said, his voice cold. "Now I don't have to hold back."
Before the Alter could respond, Nathan shot forward with inhuman speed, delivering a powerful punch to his gut. The Alter doubled over, gasping for air, but Nathan didn't let up. He followed with a spinning kick that sent the Alter crashing into a nearby bench, splitting it in half.
The Alter groaned, pushing himself up from the wreckage. His smirk returned, though his eyes burned with fury. "Not bad," he admitted, spitting blood onto the ground. "But if you think that's enough to take me down, you're dead wrong."
He charged at Nathan again, their fists colliding mid-air with a deafening crack. The force of the blow sent both of them skidding backward, but neither faltered.
The fight escalated into a whirlwind of punches, kicks, and grapples. Nathan's movements were calculated and precise, his orange eyes glowing with an eerie intensity. The Alter, in contrast, fought with raw power and instinct, his strikes wild yet devastating.
"You're strong," Nathan admitted, dodging a punch that shattered a nearby lamppost. "But you're sloppy. Unrefined."
"Yeah? Well, you're annoying," the Alter shot back, landing a solid kick to Nathan's chest that sent him crashing into a tree.
Nathan coughed, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "You're just proving my point," he said, standing up. "You're all brute force. No control. That's why you're incomplete."
The Alter froze, his eyes narrowing. "What did you just say?"
Nathan smirked, his orange eyes glowing brighter. "You heard me. You're incomplete. A fragment. A shadow of what you're supposed to be."
The words hit the Alter like a physical blow, and for a moment, he faltered. But then his fury reignited, and he charged at Nathan with a roar.
The fight raged on, neither side gaining a definitive upper hand. Nathan's precision and speed clashed against the Alter's raw power, each trading blows that left the other battered and bruised.
Finally, as they squared off once more, Nathan's communicator crackled to life.
"Nathan," the director's voice came through, firm and commanding. "That's enough. Stand down."
Nathan hesitated, his glowing eyes flickering.
The Alter noticed the pause and smirked. "What's the matter? Mommy telling you to stop playing?"
Nathan glared at him but stepped back, his fists unclenching. "This isn't over," he said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration.
The Alter laughed, though his breathing was heavy. "You're damn right it's not," he replied, watching as Nathan turned and walked away into the shadows.
As the park fell silent once more, the Alter stood there, his mind racing with questions. What did Nathan mean by "complete"? And why did he feel that strange sense of familiarity?
He clenched his fists, his smirk fading. Whatever the answers were, he knew one thing for certain: He's not the only one.
Nathan stood rigid in the director's dimly lit office, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Kara, seated to the side with her ever-present clipboard, looked at him with a mix of frustration and disbelief. The director sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled as his piercing eyes bore into Nathan like lasers. The room was heavy with tension, and the faint hum of monitors in the background only added to the weight.
"What the hell were you thinking, Nathan?" the director finally said, his voice icy and measured. "You were supposed to monitor him, not provoke him into a fight."
Nathan's jaw clenched. "I wasn't provoking him. I was assessing his capabilities. You saw the footage—he's unstable, dangerous even. He needs to be confronted before he becomes a bigger threat."
"Confronted?" Kara snapped, slamming her clipboard onto the desk. "You nearly blew our cover, Nathan! He wasn't supposed to know we were watching him, let alone that we understand what he is."
Nathan's glowing orange eyes dimmed slightly as he let out a frustrated sigh. "He's not just unstable—he's unpredictable. He doesn't even fully understand what he is. How do you expect me to just sit back and 'observe' when he's a walking time bomb?"
The director leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "We're not questioning your concerns, Nathan. What we're questioning is your judgment. You might be the 'Complete Form,' but that doesn't give you free rein to act recklessly."
Nathan's expression hardened. "Then what's the plan? Let him spiral out of control until he hurts someone—or worse?"
Kara interjected, her tone sharp but calm. "We've been studying this phenomenon for years, Nathan. You're not the first case we've encountered. But you are the first to achieve integration—a Complete Form. Do you know how rare that is?"
Nathan glanced at her, his brow furrowing. "I know exactly what I am. And that's why I'm telling you, Lucius—his Alter—he's incomplete. He's fractured. That's what makes him dangerous."
The director stood, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the desk. "Then perhaps it's time we discuss the difference between you and him. You're the perfect example of what happens when the Alter and the host become one. Complete. Unified. But Lucius… he's living with two separate minds trapped in one body. That's the incomplete form—a constant battle for control."
Nathan's fists tightened at his sides. "And you think that's sustainable? That he won't eventually snap and let the Alter take over completely?"
Kara sighed, rubbing her temples. "The incomplete form is inherently unstable. The Alter gains strength every time it takes control, while the host becomes weaker. It's a ticking clock. But if the host and the Alter can integrate—if they can achieve what you have—it's no longer two halves fighting for dominance. It becomes one unified whole. Complete."
Nathan scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, because integration is such an easy process. Let me remind you, it took me years of training—and a hell of a lot of pain—to get where I am."
"Precisely," the director said, his voice calm but firm. "And that's why we can't rush this. If we push him too hard, we risk shattering him completely. And if that happens…"
Kara finished his sentence with a grim tone, "The Alter will take over permanently, and Lucius will cease to exist. The incomplete form will implode."
Nathan exhaled sharply, pacing the room like a caged animal. "So what do we do? Sit back and watch him destroy himself?"
The director's expression softened slightly, though his voice remained authoritative. "No. We guide him. Slowly. Carefully. Lucius is different from you, Nathan. His trauma is still raw, and his connection to his Alter is more chaotic. He's not ready for integration—not yet."
Nathan stopped pacing, turning to face the director. "And what if he doesn't want integration? What if he likes the chaos? The power?"
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. Finally, Kara spoke, her voice quieter but resolute. "Then we'll have to make a decision. A hard one."
Nathan's glowing eyes flickered as he stared at the director. "And if that decision involves taking him out, I'm guessing I'm the one who gets to pull the trigger."
The director didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned to the monitors on the wall, showing footage of Lucius walking through the city, his Alter firmly in control. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he said finally.
Nathan scoffed but didn't argue. He glanced at the screen, watching Lucius's confident stride and sharp gaze. For a moment, he felt a strange pang of familiarity—a reminder of the person he used to be before integration.
"One way or another," Nathan muttered, "we're going to find out what he's capable of."
As the conversation ended, the room fell into a tense silence, the three of them lost in their thoughts. Outside, the city buzzed with life, completely unaware of the storm brewing in the shadows.
The Alter slammed the door shut behind him, his chest heaving with frustration and pain. The dim light of the apartment cast long shadows on the walls, mirroring the storm of emotions brewing inside him. He stumbled into the living room, throwing his bag onto the couch, and collapsed into the armchair, clutching his side where Nathan's blows had landed.
"Damn it…" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Nathan's words echoed in his mind, taunting him like a broken record.
"I'm the complete one."
The Alter sneered at the memory, his fists clenching tightly. "Complete, huh? What the hell does that even mean?!" he spat, his voice reverberating in the empty apartment.
He stood abruptly, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His body ached from the fight, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the sting of Nathan's cryptic remarks.
"Who the hell does he think he is? Coming into my life, acting like he knows me—like he's better than me!"
The Alter's rage flared, and he grabbed a glass from the counter, hurling it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the sound sharp and jarring. He breathed heavily, running a hand through his hair, his thoughts spiraling.
And then, in the quiet that followed, doubt began to creep in.
"Why does he have glowing eyes like me? Why does he fight like me? What did he mean by 'complete'? And why the hell do I feel like he's right?"
The Alter froze, his hand resting on the counter as the weight of it all sank in. For the first time in a long while, he felt something he wasn't used to—Competition.
He looked at his reflection in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. The face staring back at him was Lucius's, but the fire in his eyes, the confidence in his stance—that was all him, the Alter.
"What am I?" he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible.
There was no answer.
The Alter sat on the edge of the bed, the room bathed in darkness. His anger had simmered down, replaced by a restless unease. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together.
"Nathan… He's like me. But how? Why?"
He closed his eyes, the memories of the fight playing over and over in his mind. Nathan's glowing orange eyes, his smug grin, the way he moved with precision and strength—it was like looking into a twisted mirror.
And then there were Nathan's parting words: "You'll see soon enough. I'm the one who dominate."
The Alter scoffed, shaking his head. "What truth? What does he know that I don't?"
He felt the familiar presence of Lucius stirring faintly in the depths of his mind. The weaker host, the one who always hid behind him. For a moment, he considered retreating, letting Lucius take over. But then he clenched his fists, his jaw tightening.
"No," he muttered. "Not yet. Not until I figure this out. I'm not weak like him—I can handle this."
The Alter woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring. He groaned, rubbing his face as the sunlight streamed through the curtains. His body still ached from the fight, but he pushed the pain aside as he got up and prepared for the day.
As he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed the faint bruises on his face and neck. He smirked, touching the edge of a bruise. "Not bad for a fight," he muttered.
He grabbed his bag and headed out the door, determined to get through the day without thinking about Nathan—or at least, trying not to.
The Alter walked onto campus, his stride confident and his head held high. Students turned to look at him, their whispers following him like a shadow.
"Is that Lucius? He looks… different."
"Yeah, he's walking like he owns the place."
"Did you see those bruises? What happened to him?"
The Alter ignored the stares and whispers, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He liked the attention—it was a far cry from the invisible existence Lucius had lived.
As he entered the classroom, he spotted Mia sitting in her usual spot. She glanced up at him, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his bruises. But then her expression hardened, and she looked away.
The Alter's grin faltered for a moment. He could feel the distance between them growing, but he pushed the thought aside. "If she wants space, she can have it," he muttered under his breath.
Nathan sat at his desk, casually flipping through his notebook as the professor droned on. The Alter watched him from across the room, his eyes narrowing.
Nathan seemed unfazed, as if the fight from the night before had never happened. But the Alter could see the faint bruises on his knuckles, the subtle stiffness in his movements.
"He's hiding something," the Alter thought. "And I'm going to find out what."
Throughout the lecture, Nathan didn't glance his way once, but the Alter could feel the tension in the air. It was a silent game of cat and mouse, and neither of them was willing to make the first move.
That evening, the Alter found himself back at the park, the site of his confrontation with Nathan. He sat on one of the rusted swings, his mind racing.
Nathan's words still lingered, gnawing at him like a persistent itch.
"What does he know about me?" the Alter muttered to himself. "Why is he so damn confident?"
He clenched his fists, the fire in his eyes burning brighter. "I'll find out. One way or another."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the park in shadows, the Alter made a silent vow. He would uncover the truth about Nathan, about himself, and about what it meant to be "complete."
And if Nathan wanted a fight, he would give him one.