Sil walked home along the cracked streets of District 10, hands shoved into the sleeves of his worn-out hoodie. The sky was still gray with the ash of the alien invasion, the sun a faint smudge behind smoke and dust. Cities beyond this district had been reduced to ruins, and the air still carried that metallic sting. He had no parents. They were gone the day the ships arrived, burned out of memory and existence, along with most of the world he had ever known.
He didn't even remember their faces clearly anymore. Just the empty apartment he had scavenged for years, broken cupboards, a fridge that never worked properly, and the quiet that only came from being completely alone.
At sixteen, Sil was tall, nearly six feet, but lean, his body more wiry than muscular. His black hair fell messily over his eyes, and a faint scar along his left eyebrow reminded him of a fight he had lost years ago — a fight with a kid bigger than him who had thought life was fair. His dark eyes, however, were sharp, scanning everything. He had learned to notice every sound, every shadow, every small movement.
School was no better than the streets. Being alone, poor, and unprotected made him an easy target for anyone looking to take a swing at someone smaller than themselves.
"Sil! You forgot your homework again?" one of the older boys sneered, slamming a fist onto Sil's desk. The classroom smelled of dust, disinfectant, and despair.
"I… I forgot," Sil mumbled, trying not to make eye contact. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't look up.
"You forgot? Again? You're useless," the boy said, shoving his chair back roughly, sending it scraping across the floor. "Maybe your parents should've taught you something, huh? Oh wait… they're dead."
Sil froze. The words hit differently now. They weren't new. He had heard worse, seen worse. Yet even after years, some words left the chest tight, the stomach hollow. He clenched his fists under the desk.
"Shut up," he whispered. Not loud enough for anyone else to hear.
A few more punches and shoves later, Sil walked out of school, bruised, tired, and hungry. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changed. He had no money, no friends, no family. Only himself.
---
The route home was a narrow alley lined with abandoned buildings, their windows cracked, graffiti covering walls that had long lost color. Sil tried to avoid it, but it was the fastest path. And today, he didn't have the energy to go around.
The air was thick with the faint stench of something dead. Sil wrinkled his nose but kept walking. That's when he noticed the first twitch in the shadows.
It was small at first — a rustle, a flash of movement, something that didn't belong. He froze.
"Probably just a rat," he muttered.
The rustle came again, louder. A figure emerged from the corner. Its body was wrong, distorted. Its legs moved like a human's but bent the wrong way. Skin stretched unnaturally over sinewy muscle, patches of fur where it didn't belong. Its eyes glinted with something cold and alien.
Sil's stomach sank. He didn't have a weapon. Not even a pipe.
The creature hissed, low and guttural. It was alive, but not entirely. Mutated. Alien-tainted.
Sil stepped back instinctively, tripping over a loose brick. He cursed under his breath, a tiny, human mistake he could have avoided if he had been more careful. The creature moved closer, sniffing the air, its gaze locking onto him.
Adrenaline kicked in. Sil clenched his fists. He had no choice. Survival was the only law now.
The creature lunged. Sil dodged clumsily, stumbling sideways, scraping his hand against the wall. Pain shot up his arm. He winced but kept moving.
"Come on… come on…" he whispered, more to himself than anything else.
The creature attacked again, faster this time. Sil realized it was stronger than it looked. He needed a plan — anything. He grabbed a broken metal pipe lying on the ground. It was thin and rusted, but better than nothing.
Swinging wildly, he hit the creature on the side. It yelped — or maybe that was a sound of alien frustration — and recoiled slightly. Sil stumbled again, almost losing his balance.
The fight was messy, awkward. Sil's swings missed half the time, and the creature moved too unpredictably. Sweat dripped into his eyes. Bruises ached from school. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. And yet, he kept going.
Eventually, one swing hit something vital. The creature collapsed. Breathing heavily, Sil lowered the pipe, staring at the twitching form. He wanted to step back. He wanted to run. But something inside him whispered a strange, impossible thought:
Eat it.
Sil shook his head violently. "No… that's insane," he muttered.
But his body was screaming for strength, for survival. He had no money for ability cards. No one would help him. This was the only way.
Trembling, he knelt beside the creature. His hands hovered over the twitching flesh. With a deep breath, he pressed his palm against it.
Heat ran up his arm. Pain flared, sharp but fleeting. And then… calm.
His heart raced. The bruises from school, the aches in his ribs, even the scrape from the wall — all of it felt different. Less. His senses sharpened. He could hear distant dripping water in the alley. He could feel the vibration of the ground under his feet. Even the faintest flicker of movement in the shadows registered in his vision.
Sil's hands shook. He stumbled backward, panting. Something inside him… changed.
He flexed his fingers experimentally. Pain from old bruises disappeared almost instantly. His legs felt light, ready to move faster than they should. He staggered forward, then ran a few steps. He almost fell but caught himself. Then tried again.
Faster. Smoother. Stronger.
"What… what is happening?" Sil whispered. His voice trembled.
Something metallic tickled his veins, a faint hum beneath the skin. Nano-bots, he would later realize, but at the moment, he just knew his body was… evolving. Adapting. Learning.
He fell to his knees, gasping. It wasn't power in the way other humans had. It wasn't lightning or fire. It was… survival itself.
---
The sky above darkened, even though the sun should have been setting. Ash drifted lazily across the alley. Sil glanced up, seeing faint silhouettes of broken ships far off in the horizon. Humanity had lost. The aliens had won. But he was still here.
A quiet thrill ran through him. No ability card, no parents, no money. Just himself. Just the raw, messy, dangerous body he was learning to control.
The mutated creature twitched faintly beside him. Sil pressed his palm to it again, just to feel the strange warmth.
Something in him stirred. He was alive, and more than that — he was evolving.
He grinned, a small, uneven smile. It was human, flawed, imperfect.
And that was enough. For now.
Outside, the city groaned under alien shadows. Fires flickered in the distance. And somewhere, distant and unknowable, creatures — not human, not fully alien — stirred, waiting.
Sil got to his feet, wiped the sweat and dirt from his face, and whispered to himself:
I'll survive. And I'll get stronger.
That night, in his tiny apartment, he carefully stored scraps of the creature. Tomorrow, he would test again. Learn more. Evolve.
The Solo Hunter had begun.