Duality: Faith And Chaos Converge.

Hum

The low, mechanical hum filled the air—a constant vibration of life in the lifelessness of the lab. Every wall, every panel, every flickering holo-screen screamed of a future too advanced for the present.

A young man, around twenty-six, stood motionless before a massive machine, its core spinning relentlessly. His pristine white lab coat, though crisp, carried slight creases, mirroring the contradiction in his appearance—sharp yet exhausted. His blue eyes, dull like forgotten stars, remained locked onto the glass panel in front of him, where steam blurred the view of something inside.

Within the machine, a vial spun in endless circles, containing a dark, viscous liquid that pulsed with an unnatural rhythm. Light flashed at intervals, casting brief glows on the man's fingers, which trembled ever so slightly.

He didn't blink.

He didn't move.

Not even the slightest twitch.

The hum deepened. The screens flickered.

He exhaled—slow, controlled.

"If this works… I'm either a genius or a dead man."

A pause.

Then, a dry, humorless chuckle.

"Probably both."

As if responding to his words, the machine let out a sharp beep, signaling completion.

Kyoji's gaze sharpened, but his expression remained unreadable—just cold, dead eyes staring at the glass panel, which was slowly clearing.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, his other hand reaching for a pair of tongs resting on top of the machine. He exhaled again before gripping the handle of the glass panel and pulling it open.

The instant he did, a wave of scorching heat and an overpowering stench rushed out, forcing him to close his eyes for a moment. But he didn't flinch. He was used to it.

As the heat dispersed, the lingering stench clung to the air. Kyoji peered inside, his gaze falling upon the glowing-hot vial—the culmination of years of work.

Years of dealing with dangerous mutant blood, always at risk of corruption.

Years of playing a high-stakes game of hide-and-seek with the authorities.

Millions of E₵ spent. Countless sacrifices made.

And now, here it was—something that might actually work, something that could grant him the power he sought.

Yet, he felt nothing.

His heart remained an unmoving glacier. His eyes, a void staring at the vial.

He wished he could feel it—the thrill, the satisfaction of success. But there was only numbness. Cold. Empty.

Once, he would have forced a smile, tried to feign excitement. But he had long since abandoned such efforts.

What was the point?

It never worked. He could never feel it, no matter how hard he tried.

With another sigh, he reached out with the tongs, carefully grasping the still-steaming vial. As he pulled it out, the pungent smell intensified, thick enough to make anyone gag. But he was already used to it, suppressing the nausea that instinctively rose.

"This is it," Kyoji muttered, eyes fixed on the vial.

There was a chance this would fail. A chance it would do nothing. A chance it might even kill him.

But what did it matter?

This was the challenge he had to face.

They say calm seas never make great captains. Only the tides and storms could forge one.

What was power without the heart to wield it?

Talent didn't matter. Nothing did. Only the will to push forward—through risks, through death if necessary.

Holding the vial, he patiently waited for it to cool. No point in scalding his tongue.

But just then—

BANG!

A loud impact slammed against a cage nearby, the sudden noise shattering the silence.

Kyoji flinched, just slightly, his grip slipping.

The vial slipped from the tongs.

CRASH!

Glass shattered against the cold lab floor.

A moment of silence.

Kyoji stared at the mess—his years of research, his fortune, his work—now just a dark stain seeping into the cracks of the floor, mixed with shards of broken glass.

He sighed.

Even now, there was only silence inside. No anger. No despair. Just a dull flicker of disappointment.

Shaking his head, he slowly turned his gaze toward the source of the noise.

His eyes landed on the massive cage nearby—the one holding a mutant.

An ugly, disgusting creature.

It stood on two grotesque, horse-like legs, its upper body a chaotic fusion of flesh—a round, writhing mass, covered in multiple grotesque eyes. A massive, gaping mouth sat at its center, lined with jagged, monstrous teeth. The rest of its body was a horror of tumorous flesh, twitching and shifting unnaturally, eyes darting in every direction, granting it a full 360-degree field of vision.

An ugly, evil bastard.

Kyoji exhaled again, his dead eyes flickering with something faint.

The many eyes of the Mutant locked onto Kyoji, its monstrous mouth watering as if it had just spotted its next meal.

Kyoji's brows furrowed as he observed the creature closely.

"Strange," he muttered, eyes narrowing.

He was certain he had tranquilized the Mutant before he began his work. The effects of the tranquilizer should last at least ten hours, but it had barely been three.

So why was it awake?

ROAR!

The Mutant let out a furious roar, the sound shaking some of the equipment in the lab.

Kyoji, however, paid it no mind. His focus remained on the unusual situation.

Had the tranquilizer been of low quality? Had its effects weakened for some reason?

BANG!

The Mutant slammed against the cage bars, snapping Kyoji out of his thoughts. His cold eyes locked onto the creature.

"You're a very bad boy," he muttered, voice devoid of warmth. "I'll make sure your dissection hurts like hell."

As if it understood his words, the Mutant slammed into the bars again, this time with even more force, its rage intensifying. A loud bang echoed through the lab, but Kyoji ignored it.

The cage was designed to hold Mutants of this level. No matter how much it struggled, escape was impossible.

With a sigh, he turned away from the creature, shifting his attention to the mess on the floor.

"Guess I'll clean this up," he murmured, his tone as emotionless as ever.

Fortunately, he always kept meticulous records of his experiments. This wasn't a permanent setback—just a ten-million E₵ worth of spilled research. A massive loss, but nothing he couldn't recover from.

But just as he was about to move, a shift in the Mutant's behavior caught his eye.

It had stopped attacking the cage.

Instead, it pressed itself against the bars, squeezing hard as if trying to slip through the narrow gaps.

Kyoji's instincts flared. Something was wrong.

Mutants were dumb, but they weren't this dumb. They knew when a space was too small for them to fit through.

No. This thing wasn't trying to squeeze through—it was attempting something else.

A sharp sense of urgency hit Kyoji.

I need to tranquilize it. Now.

His gaze snapped to the lab table a short distance away where the tranquilizer gun rested.

At this range, it would take a second or two to reach the gun and a few more to load the darts. That was just enough time—

Or so he thought.

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the lab, shaking the walls and rattling the equipment. The sheer force destabilized Kyoji's footing, causing him to stumble slightly.

"What the fuck?!" he shouted, eyes widening in shock.

He knew the Mutant was trying something, but this?

This was beyond anything he had expected.

This was a Variant One Mutant. It wasn't supposed to be capable of this kind of attack.

Had it somehow upgraded its variant?

But that was impossible.

A Mutant's variant was fixed upon mutation—it never changed. There had never been a recorded case of one evolving beyond its initial form.

Yet here he was, witnessing the impossible.

His gaze locked onto the cage, where the Mutant stood, bloodied but still moving. It wobbled slightly, its grotesque body inching closer to the now bent bars. The explosion had warped the steel outward, creating a small opening.

Realization hit Kyoji like a bolt of lightning.

This wasn't just a random event.

This was intentional.

The Mutant had detonated a part of its own body to weaken the cage.

His initial shock faded, replaced by something far stronger.

Fascination.

This…

This was incredible.

As someone who had spent years researching Mutants, this was a groundbreaking discovery.

Who cared about a ten-million E₵ spill? This was worth so much more.

If he could capture it and dissect it, he could uncover the secret behind its evolution—an evolution that should not be possible.

But now wasn't the time for that.

No matter how fascinating, the fact remained:

If this Mutant got out, he was dead.

The plan to tranquilize it was out the window. There was no time.

His top priority now?

Escape.

Experimenting on Mutants was a crime of the highest order. The Human Alliance had outlawed it long ago due to the high risk of Chaos Corruption.

With the ever-growing Mutant threat, the last thing humanity needed was someone foolishly playing with fire.

That was why Kyoji had built his lab underground, far from prying eyes.

And that was why he knew—if he could get out, he could seal this place off, trapping the Mutant inside.

Then, once he regrouped, he could return with reinforcements to recapture it.

Then… then he could find out what made this thing so special.

But first—

He had to get the hell out of here.

With that in mind, Kyoji turned to dash toward the door, aiming for his escape. But he had barely taken a step forward when another explosion erupted behind him—this one even more powerful than before.

He didn't need to look back to know the cage was done for. He had to get away as quickly as possible. But just as he was about to move, a sudden weakness overtook him. His body felt heavy, his strength fading. Then, pain. Something sharp was piercing through his chest from behind.

One of the metal bars from the cage.

His legs trembled as the weakness spread, and within seconds, his knees gave out. He collapsed onto the cold floor, blood pooling beneath him. His vision blurred, his breath growing shallow.

"So this is it," he muttered, a bitter smile forming on his lips. "They won. The gods won at last."

Darkness crept in, swallowing his consciousness as his life slipped away.

At the same time, his blood, now forming a deep crimson pool, began moving. It slithered toward the spilled dark liquid on the ground, merging with it.

Meanwhile, the mutant, now free but gravely injured, dragged itself forward. It wasn't moving toward Kyoji—but toward the dark liquid. It completely ignored its own injuries, as if drawn to something far more important.

And then, a strange phenomenon occurred.

The moment Kyoji's blood touched the dark liquid, it came to life. It pulsed, twisted, and slithered unnaturally, as if possessed by something unseen. Then, in an instant, it shot toward Kyoji's lifeless body.

The dark substance latched onto his skin, sinking into him like water being absorbed by dry earth.

The next moment, cracks formed across his corpse. Thin, glowing fissures spread rapidly, light leaking from beneath his skin. The glow intensified, growing brighter and brighter until—

BOOM!

A blinding explosion of light erupted, engulfing everything in its path. The entire laboratory was disintegrated in an instant.