The transport doors opened with a hydraulic scream.
Cold air rushed inside first, sharp enough to sting the lungs. Then came the smell.
Rot.
Wet metal. Burned plastic. Old blood left too long in heat. A scent so thick it seemed to coat the tongue.
Kael didn't move when the guards started dragging people to their feet. Chains rattled across the floor. Someone near the front began sobbing. Another man begged in a hoarse whisper until a shock baton cracked against his jaw and sent him limp.
"Move."
A boot slammed into Kael's ribs.
Pain bloomed along his side. He gritted his teeth, rolled, and forced himself upright. The restraint cuffs around his wrists hummed faintly, suppressing nerve signals. Cheap prison tech. Enough to make the muscles sluggish.
The guard looked him over through a mirrored visor. "Still awake. That's unfortunate."
Laughter from the others.
Kael said nothing.
He'd learned young that some people became cruel when given uniforms. Others had simply been waiting for permission.
The line shuffled forward.
Outside, dawn bled weak light over a landscape of broken towers and black earth. The Disposal Zone stretched farther than sight, a dead city ringed by walls so high they cut the horizon in half. Smoke rose in thin columns from scattered ruins. Somewhere in the distance, something screamed—not human, not animal, something between.
The newest prisoners hesitated at the ramp.
A woman with gray hair stared out and whispered, "No…"
A baton struck the back of her knee. She fell hard.
"Welcome to your second chance," a guard announced, voice amplified through his helmet. "Those who survive thirty days may petition for labor reassignment."
One of the prisoners laughed bitterly. "That's a lie."
The guard shot him in the throat.
No warning. No pause. Just a dry crack and a spray of red against the metal wall.
Nobody spoke after that.
They were driven down the ramp like livestock.
Kael's boots hit cracked concrete. The ground vibrated faintly beneath him, as if some enormous machine still worked under the city. Above the gate, faded letters clung to rusted steel:
BIOHAZARD CONTAINMENT DISTRICT 7
So this place had once mattered.
Now it was where failures went.
The guards unclasped the suppression cuffs one by one and shoved each prisoner forward. Some ran immediately, panic making their choices for them. Others stood frozen until rifle muzzles convinced them otherwise.
When Kael's turn came, the cuffs dropped from his wrists.
Pins and needles shot through his arms.
The guard with the mirrored visor leaned close. "Defective core, right?"
Kael stayed quiet.
"I checked your file." The man tilted his head. "Rank Zero. Genetic null. You people usually die before adolescence."
He shoved Kael in the chest.
"Try to make it entertaining."
Kael stumbled back, caught himself, then stepped away before instinct convinced him to lunge.
The gates began to close.
Steel thundered against steel.
Then there was silence.
Not true silence. Wind hissed through broken streets. Far-off metal clanged. Something moved in rubble nearby. But compared to the shouting and engines, it felt like the world had swallowed its breath.
Dozens of new arrivals scattered in every direction.
Kael didn't join them.
He stood still and watched.
Two men sprinted toward a collapsed storefront. One disappeared through the doorway. The second made it three more steps before a pale shape dropped from above and tore him backward into shadow.
His scream lasted less than a second.
Kael turned and walked the other way.
He found shelter in the shell of an apartment block with half its front wall missing. Floors sagged. Rebar jutted from concrete like exposed bone. Good enough.
Inside, dust lay thick over overturned furniture and mold-black walls. Old lives abandoned mid-motion. A child's shoe near the stairs. Plates still stacked in a cabinet. A family photo face-down in grime.
He didn't touch any of it.
Kael checked each room before choosing one with only a single doorway and a window narrow enough that larger things couldn't fit through. Habit. Corners first. Ceiling next. Under debris last.
Nothing alive.
He sat with his back to the wall and flexed his hands until the numbness faded.
Then he listened to his own breathing.
Too fast.
He slowed it.
Think.
No supplies. No weapon. No water. Unknown hostile population. Unknown creatures. No allies.
Normal people would panic.
Kael had done that years ago, when panic still changed outcomes.
Now he made lists.
Water first.
Weapon second.
Avoid groups.
Observe before moving.
He was still making plans when footsteps scraped the hallway.
Three sets.
Uneven.
Trying to be quiet.
Kael rose without sound and pressed beside the doorway.
The first man entered clutching a snapped pipe. Mid-thirties, sunken cheeks, prison collar still around his neck.
He saw the empty room and frowned.
The second stepped in behind him.
Kael grabbed the first by the jaw and slammed his head into the wall.
Bone cracked.
Before the body fell, Kael ripped the pipe free and drove it backward into the second man's throat.
A wet choking sound filled the room.
The third bolted.
Kael chased him into the hallway, caught his shirt, and yanked him backward. They hit the floor hard. The man clawed for Kael's face, wild and terrified.
"I just wanted food—"
Kael smashed the pipe down once.
The body twitched.
Then stilled.
He stayed crouched over the corpse longer than necessary, breathing hard.
The fight had lasted seconds.
His arms shook like he'd run miles.
Weak.
Too weak.
He searched them quickly. One plastic bottle with an inch of dirty water. A pocket knife with half the blade snapped off. Two strips of dried meat that smelled rancid.
He took everything.
By the time he returned to the room, nausea had climbed into his throat.
Not from killing.
From the smell.
The man with the crushed windpipe leaked dark blood across the floor. It pooled around Kael's boots. Warm. Metallic.
Something in his abdomen tightened sharply.
Hunger.
Real hunger. Sudden and vicious.
He stared at the corpse.
No.
The feeling deepened until pain curled through his gut. His skin prickled. Vision sharpened around the edges.
Kael backed into the corner, jaw clenched.
"No."
A pulse answered from somewhere behind his sternum.
Not his heartbeat.
Something else.
A slow, heavy thud.
Then words burned across his mind—not spoken, not heard, simply known.
ABYSSAL GENOME DETECTED
VIABLE BIOMASS PRESENT
CONSUME TO STABILIZE
Kael froze.
There was no screen. No implant. No system voice.
Only certainty.
His defective core had never reacted to anything in his life.
Now it was awake.
Another pulse struck his chest.
Pain ripped through him.
He dropped to one knee, gasping. It felt as if hooks were buried beneath his ribs, dragging inward.
The corpse beside him steamed faintly.
Threads of black vapor rose from the blood.
Kael watched them drift toward him.
Then sink into his skin.
He tried to crawl away.
Too late.
Agony detonated through every nerve.
His spine arched. Teeth ground so hard one cracked. Muscles seized and tore themselves tighter, rebuilding under the strain. Heat flooded his veins. He tasted copper and ash.
Images flashed through his head—fear, hunger, violence not his own. The dead man's last instincts stripped raw and shoved into Kael's skull.
Then silence.
He collapsed face-first onto the floorboards.
For a long time, he couldn't move.
When he finally pushed himself up, the room looked different.
Sharper.
He could see dust drifting in the air. Hear footsteps two floors below. Smell moisture trapped inside the walls.
The corpse had changed too.
Dry.
Shriveled.
Like something emptied from the inside.
Kael stared at his hands.
Thin veins of black pulsed once beneath the skin, then vanished.
Again, knowledge surfaced.
Trait Acquired: Scavenger Reflex
Minor Increase: Reaction Speed
Instability: Predatory Hunger
He laughed once.
Short. Disbelieving.
Then the sound died.
Whatever had happened, it wasn't a miracle.
It came with a price.
Because the hunger hadn't left.
It had only become patient.
Night fell fast in the Disposal Zone.
The city groaned after dark.
Metal shifted where no wind touched it. Distant shrieks echoed between towers. Something massive dragged itself across pavement several streets away, leaving a grinding trail.
Kael moved through alleys with the broken knife in hand.
His body felt lighter. Faster. But bursts of strength came with stabbing pains through his joints, as if the changes inside him hadn't finished deciding what shape to take.
He found a drainage pipe leaking clean enough water to drink. Found scraps of cloth for wrapping his hands. Found tracks in the dust too large to belong to any human.
Then he found the body.
Fresh.
A woman from the transport, throat opened, eyes still wide. Her bag torn apart beside her.
And kneeling over her, chewing slowly, was a boy no older than sixteen.
Thin frame. Shaved head. Blood to the elbows.
The boy looked up.
No shame in his expression. Only annoyance at being interrupted.
"She was dead first," he said.
Kael didn't answer.
The boy smiled faintly. "You new?"
Something moved behind the smile.
Too still. Too calm.
Not prey.
Danger.
Kael's grip tightened on the knife.
The boy rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Relax. If I wanted you dead, I'd have waited till you slept."
He stepped aside from the corpse.
"Name's Renn."
Kael said nothing.
Renn's eyes flicked over him, measuring. "You've changed already." He seemed amused by that. "That's fast."
"You know what happened to me?"
"I know what this place does." Renn glanced upward into the darkness between buildings. "And I know we should leave before the nest wakes."
As if summoned, a clicking chorus answered from above.
Dozens of tiny sounds.
Closing in.
Renn's smile vanished. "Run."