Evan sat in his private laboratory, a sterile, dimly lit space filled with the quiet hum of machinery. The vial containing Darwin's modified genetic material rested on a metal tray beside him. This moment had been weeks in the making—studying, refining, ensuring that the gene-splicing process wouldn't result in catastrophic failure like it had for the test subjects.
Darwin's mutation was unlike anything else. His genome rewrote itself in real-time, constantly adjusting to external conditions. But there was a fundamental flaw in its original state: it lacked permanence. The adaptations were situational, shifting with each new threat but never fully retaining their evolution.
That wouldn't do for Evan.
He had rewritten the gene's epigenetic markers, ensuring that any adaptation would be recorded into his genetic structure permanently. Unlike Darwin, who adapted on instinct, Evan would be able to choose which changes stayed.
Now, the time had come to test whether his body could handle the transformation.
He took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeve, and injected the serum directly into his circulatory system, ensuring rapid distribution throughout his body.
At first, there was silence.
Then, the pain hit.
It was indescribable. His muscles tightened, his bones ached, and every cell in his body felt like it was being torn apart and reassembled. His nerves fired uncontrollably, sending jolts of searing pain through his limbs. His heart pounded like a machine operating beyond its limits, struggling to process the genetic rewrite in real-time.
His vision blurred, and for a brief moment, he saw his own DNA shifting in microscopic detail, strands unwinding and re-bonding at an impossible rate. His entire genetic code was being rewritten to accept the mutation.
Then, it was over.
He exhaled sharply, beads of sweat running down his face. But something was different. His breath came easier, his muscles felt more efficient, and his skin had an underlying resilience it hadn't possessed before.
He glanced at the screen displaying his biological metrics, and his system's interface finally responded.
Reactive Evolution Acquired
System Analysis: Reactive Evolution
Level 1 - Basic Adaptive Immunity (Unlocked)
Automatically resists environmental threats (temperature shifts, toxins, mild injuries).
Healing speed slightly increased.
Adaptations remain temporary, lasting only as long as the threat persists.
Estimated Time Until Level 2: 24 Hours
Projected Evolution Timeline:
Level 2 (Unlocked in one day): Adaptations begin to last longer, with some minor permanent changes.
Level 3 (Unlocked in a week): Reflexive evolution enhances, allowing instant physiological shifts in response to threats.
Level 4 (Unlocked in one month): Adaptive control reaches near-perfection. System upgrades stop, as ability transitions to semi-active.
After Level 4, Evan would have to refine his evolution manually—training, experimenting, and pushing his body to adapt on its own.
This was the first and last time the system would assist him in refining the skill.
He exhaled, already calculating how best to test his new power.
The first test was simple. He lowered the temperature in the lab to near-freezing levels. Within minutes, his body began compensating, increasing his core temperature without requiring external energy expenditure. His blood vessels constricted just enough to retain heat, and a mild thermal resistance developed across his skin.
He switched the temperature to extreme heat. His body adjusted again, sweat production optimizing without excessive dehydration, his metabolism slightly increasing to regulate cooling efficiency.
His adaptation had already begun.
Evan took a scalpel, pressing it against his palm, and made a shallow incision. The wound stung, but his blood clotted almost immediately. He watched as the edges of the cut began knitting together faster than an ordinary human's.
Not quite Wolverine-level regeneration, but noticeable.
Satisfied, he turned toward a more extreme test.
A gun lay on the table, a standard-caliber pistol. He took a deep breath, aimed carefully, and fired at his forearm.
The bullet tore into his flesh, pain flaring as the impact knocked his arm back. Blood oozed from the wound, but before his body could go into shock, something remarkable happened.
The injury stabilized almost instantly. His cells worked overtime, rapidly forming new tissue layers, sealing the wound in mere minutes where a normal human would have bled for hours.
The process wasn't painless, but the efficiency was beyond anything a human body should be capable of.
However, something was clear. His body hadn't prevented the injury from happening in the first place.
At Level 1, his adaptation was still reactionary. His body only responded after a threat had already occurred—meaning it wasn't fast enough to prevent things like bullets from harming him.
That meant while he healed faster, he wasn't immune to direct attacks yet.
That would change soon.
Evan moved to the training room, where a mechanized combat dummy stood ready. He activated its high-speed attack mode, which would simulate superhuman-level combat conditions.
The moment the dummy struck, his body responded on its own.
He wasn't consciously dodging, yet his movements adjusted mid-motion. When the strikes aimed for his ribs, his muscles instinctively tensed in the exact location needed to absorb impact. When the dummy threw a spinning kick, his center of gravity shifted automatically, allowing him to roll with the attack rather than take full force.
This wasn't just prediction—it was real-time adaptation in its purest form.
But there was a limit.
The more he pushed himself, the more he felt an underlying strain in his cellular framework.
Gene saturation.
It was a problem he had anticipated.
As his body evolved, each new adaptation placed increasing stress on his genetic architecture. If he wasn't careful, he could reach a point where:
His body would refuse further changes.
Excessive adaptations could lead to instability, where mutations start conflicting with one another.
He might develop chronic cellular degradation, making further evolution slower or even impossible.
He needed a solution before he reached Level 4.
His mind was already racing through possibilities—genetic stabilizers, artificial regulatory markers, perhaps even a second-tier mutation system that would allow him to selectively erase old adaptations to make room for new ones.
He had time to figure it out.
For now, he had one last test.
Evan took a deep breath and stepped into an isolated containment chamber, where the oxygen levels were steadily decreasing.
At first, his lungs struggled. His body screamed for air.
Then, adaptation kicked in.
His red blood cell production spiked, his oxygen efficiency increased, and his metabolism slowed just enough to prolong survival.
By the time he reached near hypoxic levels, he was still standing.
Satisfied, he switched the air back to normal and let out a slow, measured breath.
His body was evolving.
And this was only the beginning.
By the next morning, the system alerted him that Level 2 had been reached.
He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers as he felt the ever-growing efficiency in his biological structure.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.
The pistol test had proved that Level 1 had limitations—it took time for his body to register a threat and evolve accordingly. That was why the bullet had been able to injure him.
Now, at Level 2, the situation had changed.
Threats like small firearms were no longer immediate dangers. His body now preemptively hardened against expected physical trauma, meaning a bullet would no longer penetrate skin as easily.
His evolution had taken a step forward.
And soon, there would be no threats left that his body couldn't handle.