[Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention my current diagnosis. The pills you just ingested. Was another dose of the same mind-warping, body-wrecking poison.]
The words slammed into Zelo—now Alaric—like a physical blow.
His breath caught in his throat.
The realization of another dose of drugs sent a violent shiver down his spine. His fingers twitched as his hands curled into fists. His stomach churned, nausea twisting his insides into knots.
No. No, no, no.
His survival instincts kicked in. Before the drug could take full effect, he staggered toward the sink, his legs barely holding him up. His knees hit the hard floor with a thud, but he hardly felt the pain. His fingers clutched the cold edge of the basin.
His body knew what to do and immediately, he shoved two fingers deep into his throat.
With a violent gag, his stomach clenched painfully, and a burning, acidic surge rushed up his throat. He retched, his entire body convulsing. Bile and half-dissolved pills splashed into the sink. His breath came in ragged gasps, his forehead slick with cold sweat. His arms trembled, barely keeping him upright.
Again.
He forced his fingers down his throat once more to purge every last trace of the drug from his system. His body convulsed, another wave of sickness tearing through him.
Aster's voice, smooth and infuriatingly casual, broke through the haze.
[What are you doing, idiot?]
Alaric panted.
"Flushing that thing out before it messes with my mind."
Aster's voice oozed with mockery.
[Oh, brilliant. And what's your next move? Throwing up every single day? Sounds like a fantastic long-term survival strategy.]
Alaric's fingers clenched into a fist. His patience was wearing thin.
"I am not taking that thing anymore."
[I swear, I'm stuck with an idiot.]
Alaric's eye twitched. "Excuse me?"
[You wanted to dodge an arrow just to stand in front of a bullet.]
Alaric's brows furrowed. "What the hell are you saying?"
Aster let out an exaggerated sigh.
[If your enemies notice you're not taking the drug anymore, what do you think will happen? Best case, they start tampering with your food. Worst case? They put a knife through your throat.
A cold chill crept up Alaric's spine. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He had been so focused on getting the poison out of his system that he hadn't considered what would happen after.
His mind raced.
"So what am I supposed to do?"
Aster's tone was smug, like a teacher finally getting a slow student to understand basic math.
[Ah, finally! The right question. Lucky for you, I have a solution. Not only will it counteract the poison, but it might just fix that frail little body of yours.
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "Counteract the poison? You mean purging it?"
[No, genius. I mean making you immune to it. But, if you enjoy vomiting your guts out every time, you are welcome.
Alaric bit back his irritation. As much as Aster's sarcasm grated on his nerves, he couldn't deny that he made a good point. If this drug was meant to weaken or mess with him, he needed a way to fight back.
He took a deep breath. "Alright. What's the plan?"
Aster's next words made him freeze.
[Genetic modification.]
Alaric blinked. "…Genetic modification?"
[Basically, I'm rewriting your genetic code. A little tweak here, a little enhancement there, and boom—your body will process that poison like its flavored water.]
Alaric's skepticism deepened. "I'm not some lab rat. You can't just modify my genes like flipping a switch."
Aster scoffed.
[Listen, your body is already struggling. If you want to survive, you need an upgrade. This is your one-way ticket to not dying pathetically.
Alaric crossed his arms. "And what exactly are you adding?"
[Oh, just the essentials: enhanced strength, faster healing, sharper senses, toxin resistance, and—most importantly—actual intelligence, because let's be honest, you needed it.]
Alaric's frown deepened. "And how are you going to upgrade this body?"
Aster's tone turned smug.
[By rewriting your DNA at the molecular level. Think of your genetic code like a software program. Right now, it's full of bugs and inefficiencies—weak, slow, and prone to crashing. I'll reprogram it, fixing those bugs, and turning your body into a well-oiled machine.]
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "Reprogram?"
[Yep. Your body's cells will be like little problem-solvers. The moment you face a threat—like a poison, virus, or even extreme weather—your cells will figure it out and adapt to fight it off, like a built-in defense system. No more puking your guts out. No more weakness.
Alaric hesitated. "It sounded impossible."
Aster continued, voice dripping with exasperation.
[Ever heard of CRISPR? Gene editing? Well, imagine that, but on a scale so advanced, it makes human science look like a caveman carving symbol on a rock. I won't just edit your genes—I'll rewrite them from the ground up, optimizing every strand of DNA to its peak efficiency.
Alaric exhaled sharply. "And the risks?"
[Oh, plenty.]
Aster's amusement was almost tangible.
[Genetic instability, organ failure, overload on your brain—fun stuff. But don't worry, I'm very good at what I do. You'll wake up stronger than ever.]
Alaric's mind was racing, trying to make sense of what Aster had just said. This is absurd. The whole thing sounded too powerful, too unreal to even grasp. He felt like his brain was playing catch-up, scrambling to find some rational explanation.
[Oh, and it may hurt. A little.]
"Wait—what?" Alaric sputtered, trying to process the words that made no sense.
[Activating Phase One.]
Phase One?
Alaric barely had time to blink before something inside him ignited.
His chest felt like it was on fire—literally. Heat surged through him, starting from his heart and spreading like molten lava through his veins. His pulse slammed against his ribs, erratic and wild, sending shockwaves of pain through every nerve.
His cells, his very cells, tore apart and rebuilt themselves like some sort of twisted construction project. Nerve endings snapped, crackled, and rewired in a symphony of agony.
His breath hitched. He could feel the burn, the pull of his body being remade. He wanted to scream, to thrash, and beg for it to stop, but no sound came. The pain was all-encompassing, suffocating him in its intensity.
Just a bit?
His entire body felt like it was burning alive from the inside, and this smug, sarcastic bastard had the nerve to call it "a bit"? His teeth ground together in frustration, his skin flushed with heat.
"Jerk!" Alaric managed through clenched teeth, his voice strained and raw.
"I feel like I'm on fire!"
Aster's voice was as smooth and detached as ever, like he was discussing the weather.
[Stop whining like a child. Pain is temporary. Survival is permanent.]
"Survival?" Alaric's laugh was bitter, almost choking him. "If this is survival, I'd hate to see what you call death."
Warnings flickered in his mind like neon signs.
[Heart rate unstable.]
[Temperature exceeding safe limits.]
His chest tightened with panic, but the pain was so overwhelming, there was no room for anything else. The world around him seemed to spin, and for a split second, he thought he was about to die.
After what felt like an eternity—two, maybe three agonizing hours—the heat started to fade away, leaving behind a heavy, crushing fatigue that nearly brought him to his knees. It felt like life had been sucked out of him.
His vision swam, and his voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "What… what's happening to me?"
Aster's voice cut through the haze, too smug for Alaric's comfort.
[Congratulations on surviving, idiot.]
"I—" Alaric's eyes burned with frustration, but the fog in his mind was making it hard to focus. "You… you knew this might kill me?"
[But you're alive. That's what matters, isn't it?]
The words landed like a punch. Before he could reply, his stomach churned again, this time with a deep, nauseating wave that made him lurch toward the sink.
His throat tightened, bile rising up as the remnants of the painful process twisted in his gut. He barely made it to the sink in time, barely spared from choking on the aftermath of his body's brutal transformation.