The Confrontation
Dick's breath quickened as he approached the ancient tree—the one that had haunted his memories for weeks now. The twisted bark seemed to pulse with life, writhing faintly as though the ants within it were breathing. Dick couldn't explain it, but something about the tree felt like the source of all of this—the change, the strength, the connection to something far bigger than himself.
Before he could take another step, a voice interrupted him, its tone mocking and familiar.
"You really are an idiot."
Dick froze, his body tense. He turned slowly, finding Harry stepping out from the shadows, a sneer twisting his face.
"You're back here?" Harry scoffed. "After everything that's happened? You really are crazy."
"I don't want trouble, Harry," Dick said, trying to keep his voice steady, but it trembled with the weight of everything he was feeling.
"Trouble?" Harry's laugh rang out, loud and unrestrained. "No. You're the one in trouble. I'm going to be a machine! Better than all this—better than you."
Before Dick could respond, Harry lunged forward, his hand raised in a brutal strike. Dick reacted without thinking, his body moving as if guided by an instinct he didn't fully understand. He closed the distance between them in seconds, grabbing Harry's wrist in a vice-like grip. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he struggled, but Dick's hold was unbreakable.
"What the hell?" Harry stammered. "How are you—?"
Harry swung his other arm toward Dick's stomach, his kick fast and precise. But it didn't land. Dick sidestepped the blow effortlessly, his movements fluid, almost predatory. Harry swung again, frustration and disbelief clouding his features.
Dick caught the fist midair. The struggle in Harry's eyes was palpable now, his bravado slipping. He was no longer confident. He was trapped.
"Let me go!" Harry shouted, his voice desperate, panic edging in.
Dick's grip tightened, and with a single motion, he shoved Harry backward. Harry hit the dirt hard, his legs buckling beneath him. He scrambled to his feet, but his legs were unsteady, his body trembling from the force of Dick's grip.
"Where is Moore?" Dick demanded, his voice low, dangerous.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Panic filled his face, his mind racing for an answer that didn't exist.
Dick grabbed him again, lifting him as though he weighed nothing, and walked toward the tree. The ants, larger than ever before, swarmed the ground around the base of the tree. Their bodies were massive, their movements purposeful, like a well-trained army. Harry's eyes went wide with horror when he saw them, the terror unmistakable on his face.
"They're hungry," Dick said softly, his voice almost soothing. He watched Harry's face twist in fear. "Run, Harry. Run, if you want to live."
Is was then he saw that they were with him. Hastily, he got up and forgot he had injured lap. He heard the armies sounds behind but he didn't allow them catch up.
The news of missing student of Ms Perry and the recent death of the police officer in the school premises were not what the state could let go like that. The State's authority has demanded findings about the cause of these happenings.
The deceased officer's body was before Dr Lao. He had another Dr with him. She's Moss and she was a junior colleague. Moss had attached herself to him for reasons best known to her.
They were to examine and give field back to the police department. Though nothing was special to look into, they had to come up with something tangible as to the cause. Lao looked closely at the decapitated body.
"That blade was very sharp," said Moss.
Moss had been observing Lao for a while and the only way to know what he was thinking was to say something.
"Yeah, the principal said she only saw a blade. I knoy that blade can't operate by itself. The only way out is to look for the person underneath, someone in disguise. This was not the first time this happened in the school," Lao said.
"This is the work of someone special. He must be verse in science and its applications. I'm jealous of science without physical appearance," Dr Moss commented.
Lao was surprised at her praise. As far as he was concerned, this was a witchcraft practice but he did not want to say that before Moss.
"Do you know anyone responsible," Lao asked.
"No," Moss replied sharply, her tone a clear indication of her authority.
Lao couldn't help but feel a tight knot form in his chest. The only person who truly mattered in this moment was Bin, but Lao refused to acknowledge him as anything other than a rival. To elevate him to a level of honor was to risk losing his own position, and Lao wasn't ready to make such a grave mistake. No, if things went wrong, he didn't want to live with the regret of placing Bin beyond his reach.
Lao and Bin had crossed paths before, back in university. Both brilliant minds in the field of science, each with their own secrets, their own ambitions. While Bin's notorious blood-machine project had everyone's attention, Lao too had something he was working on—something even Bin hadn't seen. And despite the occasional glimpses that Lao allowed him, he wasn't about to let his rival see his entire hand.
Earlier, when the police had paid a visit to Dr. Bin's lab, it had been Lao who had instigated the whole thing. Just a little push to Brainard, and the detective had fallen right into the trap. Brainard thought Lao had some hidden information, something he was certain about, but in the end, the plan failed.
As Lao pondered this, he heard the sound of a knock at the door. Moss opened it, revealing two men in civilian clothes. The man in front flashed his ID, identifying himself as Detective Karot.
Lao's heart skipped a beat.
"Doctor Lao," Moss said, her voice trembling slightly. "The police are here to see you."
The words felt like an ice-cold shock to Lao, but he quickly composed himself. Without a word, he covered the body lying on the operating table and left the room. The three of them walked together toward Lao's office.
Inside the office, the room was sparsely furnished, with skeletal structures displayed around the perimeter, papers scattered across his desk, and a mini laptop resting at one corner. It was a place where science and mystery intertwined, where Lao could think in isolation.
"Please, sit down," Lao gestured to the two detectives. His voice was calm, but his mind was racing.
"Thank you," Karot replied, sitting down with his partner Max. "How can we assist you, Detective?" Lao inquired politely, though inside he was already bracing for what was coming.
"I'm Detective Karot. My partner here is Max," Karot began, his tone steady. "We're still investigating the situation regarding your friend. It seems that the information you provided us was inaccurate."
Lao's face tightened, but he didn't speak. He didn't want to reveal anything.
"I'm afraid we need to search your facility," Karot continued, holding up a warrant.
The words hit Lao like a freight train. For a moment, he felt his heart sink. He had considered implicating Bin, but now things were turning on him. His mind raced, frantically looking for ways to avoid trouble. But there was little he could do. Any reaction from him could be misinterpreted, and that would only make things worse.
The trio made their way out of the office, entering the building's expansive first floor. From here, they had a perfect view of the sprawling city below, its lights flickering like stars. The space around them was open, with a sleek glass railing marking the edge. It almost felt like a place where ideas were free to soar.
Lao barely noticed the distant hum of a machine—he was more focused on the situation at hand. After all, there were always machines flying across the sky, and it was easy to dismiss them as mere background noise. But the sound began to grow louder, more insistent. Something was wrong.
As they approached the elevator, the sound became deafening. Lao turned, instinctively, just in time to see something monstrous hurtling toward them.
A motorcar, gleaming with vicious metallic edges, crashed through the building's glass structure.
"What is that?" Karot gasped, instinctively diving for cover. The vehicle's blade shot out, aiming straight for Karot. He jumped into the elevator just in time, narrowly escaping the attack. But Max, slower to react, wasn't so fortunate. The blade swung back, slashing through the air and striking Max in the chest. His blood splattered across the floor as he fell lifeless.
Lao couldn't believe his eyes. He pressed himself into the corner of the wall, his body stiff with shock.
The motorcar screeched to a halt, and from it, a figure stepped out. Mikey, in his monstrous form, surveyed the room, scanning for any remaining threats. But Lao had already hidden himself, praying that Mikey wouldn't notice him.
Mikey approached Max's body, lifted it effortlessly, and threw it into the back of the motorcar like a sack of potatoes. Without another word, the engine roared to life, and Mikey sped off, leaving the carnage behind.
In the forest, the motorcar landed softly on the ground, the engine's hum dissipating as it touched down. A door slid open, and Mikey carried the body into a darkened lab.