The resistance base loomed ahead, its sheer scale pressing
down on me like a weight I couldn't shake. The walls stood tall, reinforced
with steel and watchtowers, drones humming overhead in perfect formation.
Floodlights cut through the dark, revealing the organized chaos within.
And yet, beyond the military precision, something else
pulsed here.
Life.
Hundreds of soldiers moved like a well-oiled machine, their
armor catching the light, weapons at the ready. Camps sprawled across the
land—refugee shelters, training fields, makeshift hospitals—every corner filled
with people who had nowhere else to go. Some sparred, their movements inhumanly
fast. Others lifted heavy crates with unnatural strength. It was subtle at
first, but then I saw it.
They all had powers.
The trucks rumbled to a stop. A soldier approached, his
uniform crisp despite the grime of war. "Welcome back, sir." His gaze flicked
to me, unreadable. "This him?"
Malik nodded. "Yeah. He's with us now."
The man gave a sharp nod and turned to the group. "Get them
settled. South wing."
I barely heard him. My mind was elsewhere, locked onto the
people moving through the camp—every one of them altered in some way. A woman's
hands sparked with raw electricity as she adjusted her rifle. A child floated
just inches off the ground, eyes glowing.
Something twisted in my gut.
Eliana guided Lily through the crowd, the little girl
clinging to her side, her head swiveling as she took in the unfamiliar faces.
As they disappeared into the sea of people, I turned to Malik.
"Why does everyone here have powers?" My voice was quiet,
but the weight behind it was anything but.
Malik exhaled sharply and motioned for me to follow. We
weaved through the camp until we reached a dimly lit tent. Inside, a massive
world map covered the far wall, red lines slashing through major cities,
marking destruction.
Malik tapped at the heart of the chaos.
"Addenbrook."
The air in my lungs turned thick.
"Three months ago, it happened," Malik said. "But the war
started long before that. Tensions had been building for years. Treaties
failed. Alliances shattered. The Third World War had already begun, burning
through smaller nations while the great powers watched from the sidelines,
waiting for the right moment to strike." His jaw tightened. "Then Addenbrook
went up in flames. A cataclysmic explosion tore through the facility, and
whatever they were working on… it got out. The mutation spread from there—slow
at first, but constant."
I barely heard him.
Because I did know.
I knew exactly what triggered it.
I could still hear the alarms blaring, see the red lights
flashing across the lab's walls. The genomorph spreading through the system
like wildfire, the particle accelerator overheating past the safety threshold.
The desperate scramble to shut it down.
The failure.
The meltdown.
The explosion that should've killed us all.
But it didn't.
Instead, it had changed us.
Changed the world.
And now, more than half the planet was paying for it.
I forced my hands to stay still, shoving the guilt down
before it swallowed me whole.
Malik kept talking, unaware of the storm raging in my head.
"Some immigrants carried the mutation back to their
countries, and the infection spread like wildfire. When the UK refused to hand
over research on it, Russia sent their first warning missiles. The US
retaliated, and their allies followed. Before anyone could stop it, the war
escalated, and now every great nation is at each other's throats."
I barely managed a nod.
The war. The powers. The world tearing itself apart.
And I couldn't tell him. Not yet.
Because if Malik found out the truth—if he knew I had a hand
in all of this—I wasn't sure he'd ever forgive me.