Agony exploded.

  The acceptance created a chain reaction through his system. Pain receptors fired as his organic makeup began to shift. The monitors went haywire. Alarms blared. His energy outputs spiked beyond the calibrated range.

  Body primed for advanced energy manipulation

  Evolution Process Initiated

  “Lawthorn, your readings are becoming unstable,” Dr. Nazari warned, urgency breaking through her researcher’s composure. “Your body is beginning to restructure at the cellular level. This is it—the evolution threshold.”

  Lance couldn’t hear her. His entire focus had turned inward, watching as Neural Dominion created deeper and deeper feedback loops through his mind. His consciousness expanded, connections forming between parts of his brain that had never communicated before.

  When he thought it couldn’t get worse, the pain intensified beyond comprehension. Pain Nullification failed. Every nerve ending seemed to ignite simultaneously. Lance convulsed in the chair, back arching as the first wave of transformation hit him.

  Morphoplasm instinctively activated, stretching itself paper-thin as it attempted to coat his skin in a protective layer while his body began to change, but the opaque substance turned nearly translucent in the process, covering only patches of his form and providing no comfort to either of them.

  “Equipment malfunction in sectors three and seven,” Dr. Nazari reported to an unseen technician. “Energy discharge exceeding projected levels. Similar to Pringle.”

  Lance’s vision blurred. The room spun around him. He tried to speak. Only a strangled cry emerged as another wave of agony tore through him. He fell from the chair. Hit the floor hard. The impact should have hurt. Compared to the inferno raging through his cells, it registered as nothing more than a distant pressure.

  Each second was torture.

  Minutes stretched into eternity.

  One hour passed.

  Lance writhed on the lab floor. His body underwent a fundamental restructuring. His spine contorted impossibly as bones cracked and reformed.

  “Make it stop!” he screamed, fingers clawing at the floor tiles. “Please!”

  Is this death? Lance wondered as another convulsion ripped through him. No, death would be kinder.

  Dr. Nazari’s words stabbed his ears like needles. Her clinical tone grated his nerves. As if being unmade molecule by molecule wasn’t enough, without someone narrating the process.

  “FUCK!” The word tore from his throat, raw and primal. His skin glowed from within as cellular structures reorganized themselves.

  Two hours passed.

  The pain evolved. No longer sharp and immediate, it became deep and consuming. Lance lay motionless, tears streaming down his face. Every breath felt like inhaling fire.

  “S-still... alive,” he whispered to no one in particular.

  Something’s different. I’m different.

  His muscles resisted one final time before going completely still. The transformation receded like a tide, leaving him changed in ways he couldn’t yet comprehend. He experienced pain that dwarfed even NARS infection, a sensation he would later describe as being “unmade at the atomic level.”

  His body purged itself entirely—vomiting, losing control of his bowels, sweating profusely—as his systems violently rejected everything to make room for his new form. The humiliation of these involuntary processes barely registered through the all-consuming agony.

  The doctor continued providing a play-by-play. Lance remained horrifyingly conscious throughout, unable to pass out as his body betrayed him in every way possible.

  “The restructuring is following expected patterns,” Dr. Nazari’s voice came through the speakers. “Your arma energy is integrating directly with your cellular structure. This is... fascinating.”

  Lance couldn’t respond. His tongue felt out of place in his mouth—too large, too foreign. His skin burned as if doused in acid, muscles spasming beyond his control. He curled into a fetal position, then stretched out as the next wave hit him, his spine breaking and reforming with gut-wrenching snaps, bone fragments pushing through his skin, becoming tiny knives that left trails of blood on the floor beneath him.

  Around the third hour, Lance caught a glimpse of his reflection in the one-way glass observation window. Glowing blue lines had formed around his throat, tracing the pathways between his brain and spine where arma energy was embedding itself into his nervous system. The pain centered here was the most intense—molten metal poured straight into his spinal cord.

  “The neural pathways are being enhanced beyond reversal,” Dr. Nazari observed. “Those markings indicate where the arma channels are creating new connections.”

  Lance could only whimper in response, watching through tear-blurred vision as his hands glowed with the same blue energy, veins illuminated from within. The light pulsed with his heartbeat—rapid, then slowing, then racing again as his form struggled to adapt.

  Gradually, the blue glow branching across his throat faded, leaving behind pale white scars—permanent markings of his transformation. The convulsions became less violent, the pain ebbing from unbearable to merely excruciating.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  When the process finally concluded, Lance lay in a puddle of his personal fluids, utterly spent but transformed. His consciousness floated somewhere above his body, detached and observing as if from behind the silvered observation screen.

  Second Evolution Achieved

  └─Body restructured for enhanced energy manipulation

  └─Advanced arma integration completed

  └─Neural pathways permanently enhanced

  Core Power Evolution

  └─[Appropriation (Alpha II)] → [Appropriation (Alpha III)]

  └──Ability slot capacity increased: +2 slots

  └──Energy transfer efficiency: +40%

  └──New capability: Partial integration

  └──New capability: Ability stabilization

  Neural Dominion Evolution

  └─[Neural Dominion (Alpha I)] → [Neural Dominion (Alpha II)]

  └──Mode: Emotional Resonance (1% → 15%)

  └──Range extended: +30m

  └──New capability: Mental shielding

  └──New capability: Complex emotional pattern recognition

  Third Evolution Path Unlocked: Resonance Harmonics

  └─Requirements: Perfect alignment of five distinct arma frequencies

  └──Progress tracking initialized

  └──Status: Active (First Frequency Detected)

  └───Frequency Alignment Required:

  └────Foundational Frequency: 33.8 Hz

  └──Harmonic Convergence: 1.5%

  First, the system messages appeared in his mind, confirming what his body already knew. He had crossed a threshold, become something beyond his previous self.

  Second, the stench hit him—worse than the time his robot vacuum had spread the contents of Jiro’s upset stomach across three rooms of his apartment.

  As he remembered that, Dr. Nazari approached cautiously, stepping around the puddles of blood and sweat and vomit and shit surrounding him. Despite the biohazard, her scientific excitement was evident in her wide stare and accelerated breathing.

  “A successful Second Evolution,” she remarked to herself, kneeling beside him. “Can you hear me, Lawthorn?”

  Lance tried to talk, coughed, then managed a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”

  The doctor snapped on latex gloves, the rubber smacking against her wrists. “Remarkable,” she murmured, helping him to sit up. “Your transformation appears complete. How do you feel?”

  Lance touched the new white scars decorating his neck, feeling fundamentally altered. His voice struck him as different to his own ears as he attempted to describe the sensation. “Disconnected. Like I’m watching myself from a distance.”

  Dr. Nazari examined his face, particularly his eyes. “Interesting. The scleral discoloration is consistent with other Second Evolution subjects.”

  Lance hadn’t noticed any change in his vision, but when Dr. Nazari handed him a small mirror, he saw what she meant. The whites of his eyes now held a faint bluish tint, and the irises seemed to glow slightly from within—the same unnerving intensity he had recognized in Michelle’s gaze. It was the look of someone who had stepped over a line that separated them from humanity.

  “Can you stand?” Dr. Nazari asked, offering her blue-gloved hand.

  Lance took it and pulled himself up, but as he rose, he yanked too hard. Dr. Nazari stumbled forward with a gasp of pain. His grip had clenched involuntarily, crushing her fingers together.

  “I’m sorry!” Lance released her immediately, overcompensating and losing his balance. He fell backward, landing in the mess of his own making. “I didn’t mean to—”

  Dr. Nazari massaged her hand. “It’s fine, no worries. Strength dysregulation is a common side effect of Second Evolution. Your motor control will recalibrate in a few days.”

  A disturbing parallel formed in Lance’s mind. Michelle and Briella. The neck snap. Had it been unintentional? Just like my grip on Nazari’s hand? He grunted softly. Probably. But her smug attitude afterward—that’s what still makes my blood boil. Accident or not, she didn’t show a shred of remorse.

  Lance pushed himself up, surprised by how light his body felt as he jumped to his feet. He wavered for a second but soon found his balance. Despite the weakness from his ordeal, a new power hummed beneath his skin, energy circulating through pathways that hadn’t existed before.

  “I need to clean up,” he said, painfully aware of the mess he’d made. Had all that really come from him? His stomach lurched at the thought, and he covered his mouth reflexively, only to realize his hand’s smell made it worse.

  “Of course. There’s a decontamination shower through that door,” Dr. Nazari pointed. “Fresh clothes are provided. I’ll have this area sanitized while you clean yourself.”

  Lance nodded, taking unsteady steps toward the indicated door. Each movement felt strange—both more powerful and less coordinated, as if his brain needed time to adjust to his body’s new capabilities.

  In the shower, he let scalding water rinse away the physical evidence of his metamorphosis. He watched as blue-tinged water swirled down the drain, carrying away the last traces of what he had been. Steam filled the small space, and Lance closed his eyes, letting exhaustion wash over him.

  When he emerged, clean and dressed in the provided USEC uniform, Dr. Nazari was waiting. The lab had been quickly sanitized, though now the sharp scent of lemon-pine industrial cleaner had replaced the stench of biofluids.

  “Your vitals have stabilized,” she informed him, checking a tablet. “Though your arma signature is still fluctuating. That’s to be expected during the integration phase.”

  Lance wiggled his digits, feeling the energy flow through them with new intensity. “How long will that take?”

  “Typically 24 to 48 hours. During this time, you may experience unstable ability control and energy discharge. I recommend minimal use of your abilities until the integration completes.”

  Lance thought of Huan, waiting upstairs. “What about the teleportation ability? Can I take it now?”

  “Theoretically, yes. Do you have any indication of these additional ability slots you mentioned earlier? Your scans show significant changes to your neural pathways, but I can’t definitively identify their function.”

  “Yes, I can feel them. Two more slots available now.”

  “You appear stable enough, but I would still advise waiting until tomorrow to attempt any further power integration. Your system needs time to fully settle.”

  Lance considered this advice. The exhaustion weighing on him suggested she was right, but he had made a promise. His fingers traced the white lines running along his neck, assessing his reserves. There was enough arma to proceed—more than enough, in fact. The energy inside him wasn’t only sufficient; it had been completely renewed, coursing through him more vibrantly than ever before. “I’ll try now. Huan’s been waiting long enough.”

  Dr. Nazari studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Very well. But I must insist on continued monitoring. Your energy levels are still extremely volatile.”

  “Let’s get going then,” Lance said.

  He started toward the door, then stopped abruptly. “Actually, food first. Something with protein. Lots of it.” His stomach growled audibly, punctuating the demand. “Turns out evolving is hungry work.”