The streets were silent, yet the darkness was alive. Dim lamps cast the smallest pools of light, flickering against the cracked, uneven cobblestones. The alleys smelled of damp stone and rusting metal, the air thick with the faint trace of smoke and something sharper—ozone, like a storm trapped in the city. Shadows clung to every corner, hiding figures that moved with intent, waiting for the slightest sound.
Ren woke with a gasp, his body sprawled on the cold street. Pain stabbed through his chest, twisting with each shallow breath. "Why… why does my head hurt? Why am I so dizzy?" he muttered, clutching at his torso. His thoughts scrambled, memories fragmented—snippets of a world he had thought was real, images of streets he had walked, a home he no longer remembered.
Then, a voice, soft yet piercing, resonated in his mind. "Finally… you are awake. You are weak, but it has been a while."
Ren's eyes darted around. There was no one. The voice had no form, no presence—yet it radiated power. It was inside him, entwined with his very being. A pulse throbbed through his chest. His vision blurred, but he could feel it: something alive, intelligent, watching, waiting.
Before him, a child emerged from the shadows. But there was nothing innocent in that small frame. Its eyes were cold, blooded, unblinking—like molten amber set against pale skin. The child moved with predatory precision, dagger flashing in the faint light. Ren's body reacted before his mind could process. Every muscle tensed, moving instinctively. The dagger sliced toward him, and he twisted, letting the attack graze past.
Pain shot across his vision, but his compound eyes—activated by the parasite inside—gave him perception beyond normal human limits. He could see the subtle vibrations of the street, the faint movement of air around the child's dagger. His body moved like it had a mind of its own. A blur of motion, twisting, ducking, striking back in a controlled instinctual rhythm.
The parasite, nestled deep in his chest and fused to his heart, stirred. Dragonfly, spider, centipede—the three consciousnesses inside him moved as one entity, each exerting influence. The dragonfly instinct dominated, heightening reflexes; the spider refined timing and strategy; the centipede acted as a regulator, preventing the other two from overreaching and harming him.
Ren felt the unfamiliar surge, a predatory awareness he had never known. Pain and instinct intertwined. When he dodged the child's follow-up attack, he realized he hadn't thought at all—his body simply knew.
And then, he struck. His movements were a blur of angles and rotations. Light reflected off the dagger's edge as he parried and redirected. The child's eyes widened. This was no ordinary fight; this was instinct against instinct, predator against predator.
---
Hours—or perhaps minutes—passed in that street. Every second was a test, a dance of death where neither party yielded. Ren's compound eyes were tinged with turquoise, flickering under the strain. Pain radiated through him, but he could not stop. Each dodge, each strike, each breath was mediated by the parasite, guiding him, teaching him, warning him.
Finally, the child faltered. Ren's body moved on a final instinctual lunge, twisting and slashing. The dagger fell harmlessly, and Ren froze, chest heaving, heart pounding, mind blank. For the first time, he realized the entity inside him was not simply aiding him—it had chosen this moment to awaken fully.
A ripple of awareness passed through him. The hybrid consciousness stirred: the dragonfly's vision, the spider's precision, the centipede's control—all aligned. Ren's eyes glowed brighter, flickering between electric blue and green. His mind screamed as the new instincts fought for dominance.
And then, silence.
---
A man in a black and red mask appeared at the end of the alley, moving unnaturally fast. He was the first Ren saw clearly since awakening. His presence radiated authority and menace. A finger pointed directly at Ren's head. Pain lanced across his temple—a poisonous prick that was more warning than attack. "Next time… you will understand your place," the masked figure said, voice low, authoritative. And then he vanished, leaving only the faint echo of movement.
Ren stumbled, still trembling. His mind raced as fragments of memories returned—flashes of experiments, of being injected with unknown energy, of a world he had believed real. It was all lies. His life before this street, this darkness, was gone.
The parasite stirred again, whispering in fragments he could barely understand. "Finally… control is possible, but you must survive. Eyes open, senses sharp. Move, adapt… or die."
---
Then another figure appeared: a child, small and wiry, with eyes as cold as obsidian. "So, you're the new one," the figure said, voice mocking. A dagger appeared in her hand, and Ren's instincts flared. He was no longer unprepared. The fight began again, faster this time, his senses reaching into the dark, touching every corner, feeling the energy of the ground beneath him, the air around the blade, the faint heartbeat of the girl before him.
The battle was a blur. Attacks collided with a ringing sound, slicing light reflected across narrow walls. Ren moved instinctively, using his hybrid awareness to anticipate, dodge, and counter. The parasite guided him, whispering adjustments, balancing his energy, amplifying reflexes.
Finally, the girl fell back, impressed despite herself. "Not bad," she said, panting, her dagger lowered. "You might survive here… for now."
Ren dropped to his knees, chest heaving, eyes flashing blue-green and turquoise. The city was dark around him, the streets silent once more. The parasite pulsed warmly within his chest, calm now, observing. He had survived the first test of instinct and awakening—but he knew, deep down, this was only the beginning.
---
The street stretched endlessly, dark and twisting. Above, the lamps flickered, casting shadows that seemed alive. Ren rose slowly, tasting blood in his mouth, feeling the hum of new awareness coursing through him. His mind, body, and the entity inside were now intertwined. He was no longer just Ren. He was something more—a predator awakened, a hybrid ready for the shadows.
And the Three-Eyed Sparrow was waiting