I didn't stop. Time marched on. In the Nevada desert, I found the last stronghold—a complex beneath the sand where those who called themselves "masters of the world" hid. The Illuminati. Their machines hummed like a swarm of wasps, giving them away, while their lasers hissed, leaving no wounds. Astonishing technology, more akin to alien. But none of it mattered. I crushed their machines with my bare hands, the metal cracking like dry bones, while the sand melted under my steps, turning into sharp, hot glass. Inside, their leader—an old man in a golden suit—stared at me through armored glass, his lips moving, whispering threats that had long lost their weight. I shattered the barrier with one blow, and his words drowned in the crunch of bones. His safes, filled with papers and digital keys, I burned, leaving only ash that smelled of sulfur and finality.
I was above them all. The people below waited. My people. Their eyes gleamed—some with hope, some with horror. Factories hummed under the workload I'd assigned, schools rang with children whose parents were busy saving the world, hospitals healed everywhere. Across the globe. Governments were no longer as important.
Senators, mayors, and kings of various countries tried to demand something. To question me. I left them a massive message in the form of the execution of the rich. Thus, the world lost its rulers and gained me.
I didn't need money. I didn't need fame or resources. Nor territories, nor land. I needed the entire planet. But my path was far from over.
I stood at the edge of the desert, gazing at the smoking chimneys of a new world, and asked myself: What have I created? Order or chaos? A cure or a poison? The wind carried sand, sharp as truth, and I felt it scrape my skin, but it offered no answers.
Time gained momentum.
The cure evolved—Dr. Ellis had infused it with my energy, running it through an old particle accelerator that hummed like a beehive. An experiment that either worked in my favor or backfired, I couldn't quite tell. It didn't just heal; it enhanced: people grew taller, stronger, their bones hardened, their eyes gleamed like predators'. They called it "Superman's Blood," whispering my name with reverence I hadn't asked for but couldn't reject. Alexander was the first to gain a quarter of purple light in his eyes. I hadn't seen others like him.
Others, weaker compared to the boy who lifted a car, wouldn't have warranted special attention if not for their thirst for destruction.
Give a man power, and he becomes what he despised.
Give a man strength, and he becomes what others fear.
Fortunately, this world had me. Pity that few understood they weren't immortal. Strength intoxicates.
But not everything was clean. The cure I gave the world began to devour itself. In Mumbai, I saw the first ones: their bones grew too fast, tearing through skin, their eyes glowed like animals', but their minds clouded, dissolving in rage. Horrific creatures, white bones protruding from their bodies, snarling and aggressive toward everything around them. They threw themselves at walls, leaving dents in concrete, their mouths emitting sounds—not words, but growls, heavy as stones. Ellis said my energy in the accelerator had become too wild, that it didn't just enhance but also broke. "You gave them strength but took away control," her voice trembled, like thin ice before it cracks, as she looked at the creatures I brought to her. The television showed us footage. I watched them, these new beasts, and felt something inside me tighten—not fear, but a shadow of doubt, cold as marble under blood.
The laboratory was quiet, only the hum of the television breaking the silence, its low rhythm pulsing in the floor like the heartbeat of the earth. Ellis stood at the control panel, her fingers—now even thinner, with nails bitten to the quick—sliding over buttons coated in dust and yellow grime. The screen before her flickered, displaying graphs—curved lines resembling veins, pulsing in time with her breathing. Lily still slept in the corner, her face gaunt from these days, her skin almost translucent, with blue veins visible under her eyes. Her braids were frayed, one lying on the floor like a snake shedding its skin.
I looked at Ellis, feeling the air between us thicken, heavy not just with the smell of chemicals but with her thoughts, sharp as glass shards. She knew more than she said. Her fingers froze over the panel, and she turned to me, her glasses slipping to the tip of her nose, revealing eyes—gray, with red cracks, like the ground before an earthquake.
"It's not just a mutation, Brandon," she said, her voice dry as sand, but there was a note I hadn't heard before—uncertainty. "Your energy… it's alive. It chooses. I saw the data from Mumbai. Those who broke, those beasts—it's not a mistake. It's a culling. The weak break, the strong grow. But something in this process… it doesn't obey us. It obeys you. It should."
I stepped toward her, my boots leaving a muddy trail on the floor, where glass shards crunched like bones under a hammer. The screen reflected my face—sharp features, eyes burning purple, like Alexander's, but brighter, deeper, like an abyss that devours light. With age, my eyes had begun to change, and I'd only recently noticed.
I felt her words—not just their meaning, but the weight they carried. My blood, my strength, my will—all of it flowed in the veins of millions, but now it was starting to live its own life, like a child breaking free from its mother's grasp.
"Obeys me?" I repeated, my voice low, like thunder rolling across the desert. "Then why can't I stop it? Why are they turning into monsters?"
I pointed at the screen.
Ellis removed her glasses, her fingers trembling, leaving sweat stains on the lenses. She walked to the table, where an old dictaphone lay—its casing cracked, its buttons rusted. She pressed play, and the room filled with a voice—not hers, but another's, hoarse, trembling, with an accent I couldn't immediately place.
"Day three. Patient number 47. Male, 34 years old. After the injection, his temperature rose to 41. Bones elongated by 12 percent in a day. He broke the steel door of his cell with his bare hands. At night, he started screaming—not words, sounds, like an animal. In the morning, his eyes… they were glowing. Purple. He pounded the walls until he died of a hemorrhage. We found scorched pieces of brain in his skull—he burned from the inside."
A click. Silence. Ellis looked at me, her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers gripping the edge of the table, leaving dents in the soft wood.
"It's not just strength," she said. "It's… consciousness. Your consciousness. It's in them. It tests them. And if they don't pass, it breaks them. Alexander and Amara are exceptions. They're holding on. But the others…" She trailed off, her gaze falling on Lily, whose breathing grew slightly louder, as if she heard us in her sleep.
I turned to the window, where the rain had given way to wind, hurling sand against the glass with a sound like claws scratching at boards. I felt them—all who had changed. Their voices, their fears, their rage—it all struck me like waves against cliffs, leaving cracks in my armor. They were mine. But I didn't want to be their judge. Or their executioner.
"Then I'll find a way," I said, my voice firm, but something inside wavered, like a string stretched to its limit. "I'll stop it. Or guide it. They won't become monsters if I teach them."
Ellis snorted, her smirk bitter, like coffee left on the fire.
"Teach them?" she said, returning to the panel. "You haven't even taught yourself. The core of your strength is the most unscientific thing I've ever heard of. You think you can control it, but you're its source. It won't let you go. Nor them."
I stepped outside, the wind hitting my face, throwing sand and ash into my eyes. The sky was gray as steel, and the horizon shimmered with heat rising from the ground. I took off, feeling the air part before me, humming like a taut wire. Mumbai was far, but I felt them—those who had broken, those who growled in the night, smashing concrete and bones. I had to see them. Understand them. And, if necessary, destroy them.
---
In Mumbai, I landed on the roof of a ruined building, its walls crisscrossed with cracks, white bones—not concrete—protruding from the gaps. The air smelled of blood, smoke, and something sour, like rotting flesh. Below, in an alley, I saw them—three of them. Their bodies were twisted, shoulders bulging like humps, arms elongated, ending in claws sharp as knives. Their eyes glowed—not purple like Alexander's, but a dirty red, like clotted blood. They noticed me, their heads jerking like animals scenting prey, and one let out a sound—not a scream, but a howl, low and heavy, making the windows in nearby buildings tremble.
I leapt down, sand swirling around me like smoke. They charged, their claws slashing the air, sparking where they grazed metal. The first struck—his arm was fast, but I was faster. I caught his wrist, squeezed, and the bone snapped like a dry twig. He howled but didn't stop, his other hand lunging for my throat. I dodged, striking his chest—his ribs cracked, and he collapsed, his body twitching like a puppet with cut strings. Dead.
The second leapt from a rooftop, his claws glinting in the moonlight, but I met him with my gaze—a beam shot from my eyes, searing his shoulder, and he fell, howling, with a smoking wound. The third froze, his eyes meeting mine, and I felt him—not just his rage, but his fear, buried deep, like a shadow under ice. He wasn't empty. He still remembered himself.
"Who were you?" I asked, my voice cold as the wind driving sand through the streets.
He opened his mouth, his teeth sharp as glass shards, but instead of a growl, I heard words—hoarse, broken, but human.
"Ravi…" he forced out, his claws trembling, scraping the concrete. "I… was… a doctor… saved… them…" His eyes dimmed, the red light flickering, and he collapsed, his body curling as if something inside him gave up.
I stood over them, feeling their strength fade, dissolving into the air like smoke. They were mine. But they didn't endure. Ellis was right—it was a culling. My energy chose the strong but broke the weak. And I didn't know how to stop it.
The night thickened, the moon hanging over the city like an eye watching me with silent reproach. I took off, leaving behind only ash and silence. I needed more time. More people. And answers I couldn't find.
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