The silence that followed the violence was heavier than the steel beams groaning overhead.
Varian knelt on the blood-slicked tiles, his chest heaving like a broken bellows. The air in Containment Room 4 was thick with the scent of ozone—the lingering perfume of the Solar Lion's plasma—mixed with the copper tang of his own spilled blood.
He looked at his left hand. The monstrous, liquid-chrome claw had vanished. In its place, his skin looked normal, pale and scarred from years of needle abuse. But beneath the surface, he could feel it. A cold, heavy presence coiled around his radius bone like a dormant snake. It was pulsing, a slow, rhythmic thrum that didn't match his own heartbeat.
Thump... squelch. Thump... squelch.
It was the heartbeat of a parasite. Or a partner.
"Status," Varian rasped, his voice cracking. He didn't know if he was talking to the air or the thing inside him.
A blue holographic screen flickered into existence in his peripheral vision, overlaid on the smoking ruin of the laboratory.
[System Reboot Complete.][Host Vitality: 18% (Critical)][Symbiote State: Dormant (Digesting)][Current Caloric Debt: 4,500 kcal]
[WARNING: Hunger levels critical. If caloric debt exceeds 5,000, the Symbiote will begin metabolizing Host muscle tissue.]
Varian let out a dark, dry chuckle. "Of course. Even the magic power wants to eat me."
He forced himself to stand. His legs shook violently. The sudden burst of adrenaline that had allowed him to kill the Lion was fading, leaving behind a hollow weakness that made his vision swim with black spots. He grabbed the edge of a overturned instrument trolley to steady himself.
He couldn't collapse. Not yet.
Varian turned his gaze to the small, crumpled form in the corner. Elian.
He crawled over to the boy, ignoring the glass shards digging into his knees. Elian was curled in a fetal position, his face pale as milk. A nasty bruise was darkening on his forehead where he had hit the wall.
Varian placed two fingers against Elian's neck. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
"Still fighting," Varian whispered, brushing the hair out of the boy's eyes. "Good. Don't you dare quit on me, El. We haven't seen the sun yet."
He carefully checked Elian's limbs. No breaks, just shock and a concussion. The boy was light—too light. Three years of "nutrient paste" and blood extraction had left them all looking like specters.
Varian moved to lift him, but a sudden glint of red caught his eye.
Where the Solar Lion had dissolved, a small crystal lay amidst the pile of ash. It was the size of a walnut, glowing with a soft, internal amber light. It pulsed with heat.
A Beast Core.
In the world of Ouroboros, these were the currency of power. They were the crystallized souls of the beasts, containing their genetic code and residual energy. A Warrior-Rank core like this could sell for 50,000 Helix Credits in the Upper Shell—enough to buy a small apartment and real food for a year.
Varian reached out and picked it up. It was hot to the touch, stinging his fingertips.
[Item Detected: Solar Lion Core (Warrior Rank - Low Tier)][Composition: 80% Pyric Essence, 20% Beast Will.][Analysis: Incompatible with Host Physiology.]
[Genetic Archivist Trait Triggered.][Analyze? Y/N]
Varian blinked. Genetic Archivist? He remembered the doctors talking about "Traits"—rare mental abilities that some humans developed upon Awakening. Most were useless, like "Night Vision" or "Fast Reading."
"Analyze," he muttered.
The blue text shifted, expanding into a complex web of data that made Varian's head spin.
[Scanning...][Evolution Recipe Found.][Subject X-99 (Slime) + Solar Lion Core = ???][Simulation Result: 98% Probability of Death. The Symbiote is too weak to contain the thermal energy. It will boil inside your veins.]
Varian's hand froze halfway to his mouth. He had been about to eat it—or try to absorb it, like the legends said heroes did.
"So, it's poison," Varian murmured, clutching the hot crystal tight. "For now."
He shoved the core into the pocket of his tattered hospital pants, right next to Elian's napkin drawing. He couldn't use it, but he couldn't leave it. It was money. It was fuel.
"Food," Varian said aloud. "I need real food."
He scanned the room. The explosion had destroyed the nutrient dispensers. But Dr. Valerius's desk...
Varian stumbled over to the wrecked workstation. The doctor had fled, but his personal effects were scattered on the floor. Varian shoveled through the papers until he found it: a half-eaten synthetic ham sandwich wrapped in plastic and a thermos of coffee.
It wasn't much. To a starving boy, it looked like a royal banquet.
Varian didn't hesitate. He tore the plastic open with his teeth and devoured the sandwich in three bites, barely chewing. He drank the lukewarm, bitter coffee straight from the thermos.
[Caloric Intake Detected.][Debt Reduced to 4,200.]
"Better than nothing," he wiped his mouth.
He walked back to Elian, squatting down. "Up we go, buddy."
He grunted as he hoisted the unconscious eight-year-old onto his back. Elian's arms dangled over Varian's shoulders. The weight was manageable, but Varian knew his stamina was a ticking clock.
He looked at the open door leading into the hallway. The emergency lights were still strobing red, casting long, dancing shadows that looked like monsters.
"Sector 4 is a maze," Varian whispered to himself, adjusting his grip on Elian's legs. "And the rats are waking up."
He stepped out of the room and into the nightmare.
The hallway of Sector 4 was a testament to industrial cruelty. The walls were lined with pipes that leaked steam and oil, the floor was a metal grate that looked down into the foggy abyss of the lower maintenance levels.
Usually, this corridor was silent, patrolled only by drone-bots. Now, it was chaos.
Sirens wailed in a discordant harmony. From the distance, Varian could hear screams—human screams, and the guttural roars of beasts. The explosion hadn't just breached his room; it had cracked the containment on the entire wing.
Varian moved hugging the wall, his bare feet silent on the metal. He knew the layout. He had memorized it during the "transport times" when they moved the children from the cells to the showers.
Left at the junction. Down the service ramp. Through the Waste Processing Unit. Then the cargo elevator.
He rounded the corner and froze.
Ten meters ahead, the corridor was blocked. A massive slab of concrete from the ceiling had collapsed, crushing a security droid beneath it. The gap between the rubble and the wall was tiny—maybe six inches. Too small for a human.
"Damn it," Varian hissed.
He looked back. The way he came was a dead end. This was the only route to the Waste Processing Unit.
"Think," he muttered, tapping his temple. "I have a beast now. Use it."
He looked at the rubble. It was heavy, rebar sticking out like broken ribs. He couldn't lift it. Not with his pathetic muscles.
"Hey," Varian whispered to his arm. "X? Slime? Whatever you are. Can you move this?"
He focused on the sensation in his bone. He tried to push the feeling outward.
The Symbiote responded. It didn't speak, but Varian felt a wave of... curiosity.
The black tattoo on his wrist rippled. The gray sludge seeped out of his skin, not forming a claw this time, but expanding like a balloon.
[Form Selection: Hydraulic Wedge]
The sludge slithered into the six-inch crack between the concrete slab and the wall. It looked soft, like jelly.
"Expand," Varian commanded, picturing a car jack in his mind.
The sludge hardened instantly, turning from liquid to solid steel. Then, it grew.
CREAAAAK.
The sound of grinding stone echoed through the hall. The Symbiote expanded with the force of a hydraulic press. The massive concrete slab groaned and shifted, pushed two feet to the right.
It was just enough space.
"Good boy," Varian breathed, slipping through the gap with Elian.
As he recalled the slime, he felt a sudden wave of dizziness.
[Caloric Debt: 4,400.][Warning: Physical exertion consumes energy.]
"I know, I know," Varian gritted his teeth. "Stop nagging me."
They continued deeper into the facility. The air grew hotter, smelling of sulfur and burnt hair. They were getting closer to the furnaces.
Suddenly, Varian stopped. To his right was a viewing window that looked into Cell Block B.
He shouldn't look. He knew he shouldn't.
He looked.
Cell Block B was where they kept the "Rejects"—the children whose blood wasn't potent enough. They were used for... stress testing.
The glass was smeared with blood. Inside, Varian saw cages torn open. He saw small, white hospital gowns scattered on the floor like fallen petals.
There were no bodies. The beasts had been thorough.
But in the center of the room, wandering aimlessly, was a Iron-Hide Boar. It was chewing on something that looked suspiciously like a shoe.
Varian's stomach turned. Rage, cold and sharp, spiked in his chest.
They let this happen, he thought. Valerius. The Church. The Nobles in the Upper Shell. They built a slaughterhouse and called it a laboratory.
He felt the Symbiote stir again. This time, the emotion wasn't curiosity. It was Hunger. It sensed the Boar. It wanted to eat.
"Not now," Varian whispered, his hand trembling as he forced himself to look away. "We can't fight that. We survive first. We kill later."
He hurried past the window, the image of the empty shoe burned into his retinas.
They reached the Waste Processing Unit.
This was the ass-end of the facility. A massive cavern filled with conveyor belts carrying trash, chemical sludge, and biological waste toward the incinerators.
The noise was deafening here. Giant crushers slammed down rhythmically. BAM. BAM. BAM.
"The exit is past the incinerators," Varian said to Elian's unconscious form. "There's a maintenance hatch that leads to the sewers."
He stepped onto the metal walkway that spanned over the conveyor belts. Below him, a river of garbage flowed.
He was halfway across when the door on the far side hissed open.
Varian threw himself flat against the walkway, pulling Elian down with him. He peered through the mesh grating.
Three men stepped onto the platform.
They weren't security guards. They wore bulky, yellow hazmat suits with thick black visors. On their backs, they carried tanks connected to long, nozzle-tipped rifles.
The Cleaners.
"Sector 4 is compromised," the lead Cleaner said. His voice was amplified, booming over the sound of the crushers. "Standard Protocol Omega. Burn it all."
"Even the livestock?" the second Cleaner asked.
"Especially the livestock. If they escaped, they're contaminated. No witnesses. The Church wants this site sterilized."
Fwoosh.
The leader pulled the trigger. A jet of blue chemical fire erupted from the nozzle, engulfing a pile of crates. The heat was intense, instantly vaporizing the plastic.
Varian's heart hammered against the metal grate. These weren't men with stun batons. These were executioners.
They were blocking the only exit.
"Scan the area," the leader commanded. "I smell blood."
The Cleaner raised a scanner. It beeped.
"Biological signal detected. Two subjects. On the gantry."
The leader looked up. His black visor reflected the red emergency lights. He looked straight at Varian.
"Found you, little rats."
Varian didn't wait.
"Hold on!" he screamed to Elian.
He scrambled up and ran. Not toward the exit—that was blocked by fire—but back along the walkway.
"Target acquired. Torch them."
A stream of blue fire roared toward them. Varian felt the heat singe the hair on his arms. He dove, rolling behind a metal control box just as the flames washed over it. The metal glowed red hot instantly.
"We're trapped," Varian realized. The walkway was narrow. They were at one end, the Cleaners at the other.
He looked down. Below the walkway, five meters down, was the conveyor belt. It was moving fast, carrying jagged metal scraps toward a massive crushing machine.
Jump and maybe get crushed. Stay and definitely get burned.
"Simple choice," Varian muttered.
He looked at the Symbiote on his wrist. "Can you stick?"
The slime pulsed. Affirmative.
Varian stood up.
"There!" The Cleaner aimed his flamethrower.
Varian grabbed Elian tight against his chest. He didn't jump onto the conveyor belt. He jumped off the walkway, into the empty air above the waste pit.
"Suicide," the Cleaner scoffed, lowering his weapon.
Varian fell. The wind rushed past his ears. The churning sludge river rushed up to meet him.
"NOW!" Varian screamed internally.
He threw his left arm out.
[Ability Activation: Viscous Tether]
The gray sludge shot out of his wrist like a rope, lashing onto the underside of the walkway he had just jumped from.
SNAP.
The tether went taut. Varian's shoulder screamed in protest as his fall was arrested with a brutal jerk. He swung like a pendulum, dangling precariously over the crushing gears of the machinery below.
Elian groaned, the motion stirring him.
"Don't look down," Varian gasped, swinging back and forth in the shadows beneath the walkway.
Above them, heavy boots clanked on the metal grating.
"Did you see them land?"
"No. They fell into the grinder. No one survives that."
"Good. Saves fuel. Move to the next sector."
Varian held his breath. He hung there for what felt like an eternity, his arm burning, the Symbiote eating his energy to maintain the rope.
[Caloric Debt: 4,800.][WARNING. CRITICAL.]
Finally, the footsteps faded.
Varian swung himself toward one of the support pillars. He latched onto a rusted maintenance ladder and deactivated the tether. He collapsed onto a small service platform hidden in the shadows of the machinery.
He was safe. For now.
He lay there, gasping for air, staring up at the underside of the walkway.
[Caloric Debt: 4,850.][Hunger Overwhelming.]
A sharp pain spiked in Varian's stomach. It wasn't normal hunger. It felt like acid was being poured into his gut. The Symbiote was starting to look for internal sources of fuel.
"I need... to eat..." Varian wheezed.
He checked his pockets. The sandwich was long gone. The coffee was gone.
All he had was the Solar Lion Core.
He pulled the glowing red crystal out. It pulsed with heat.
[Analysis: Incompatible. High Probability of Death.]
"I know," Varian whispered, his vision tunneling. "But I don't have a choice."
He looked at the Symbiote on his arm. The gray sludge was sluggish, pale. It was dying too.
"Listen to me," Varian hissed at the slime. "You're a mimic, right? You copy things."
The slime shivered.
"Don't copy the fire," Varian said, his mind racing, trying to use the 'Genetic Archivist' logic. "Copy the container."
He remembered seeing the Solar Lion up close. Its skin wasn't just light; it had a transparent, diamond-like coating that contained the plasma.
"Analyze the containment structure," Varian commanded, focusing his mind on the memory of the Lion's skin texture, not the fire itself.
[Archivist Trait Active.][Isolating Variable: Photo-Crystalline Epidermis.][Simulation: Can the Symbiote mimic the crystal structure to encase the energy?][Calculating...][Probability of Success: 40%.]
"Forty percent," Varian laughed weakly. "Better than zero."
He didn't eat the core. He placed it in his palm.
"Eat it," Varian ordered the Symbiote. "Build a cage for it inside me. If you fail, we both burn."
The gray sludge hesitated, then surged forward. It wrapped around the red crystal, swallowing it whole.
Varian screamed.
It felt like he had shoved his hand into a blast furnace. The heat traveled up his arm, boiling his blood. He fell back, thrashing on the metal platform, biting his lip until it bled to keep from screaming loud enough to alert the Cleaners.
Steam poured off his skin. His veins glowed a bright, angry orange.
[Alert! Thermal Overload!][Constructing Crystalline Matrix...][Failure... Failure... Adaptation...]
Varian's eyes rolled back in his head. He saw flashes of memory—not his own. He saw a sun. A real sun. He felt the pride of a lion. He felt the rage of being caged.
Then, the heat snapped.
The burning stopped, replaced by a warm, humming vibration in his chest.
Varian lay panting, sweat pooling around him. He lifted his left hand.
The gray slime was different now. It was darker, sleeker. And running through the black metal were faint, glowing veins of gold.
[Evolution Successful.][Subject X-99 Stage: Larval -> Metamorph.][New Attribute Acquired: Solar-Thermal Engine.][The Symbiote can now metabolize heat for energy. Hunger sated.]
Varian clenched his fist. The golden veins flared brighter, emitting a soft light. He felt... full. Stronger.
He looked at Elian, who was still sleeping peacefully in the dark.
"Forty percent," Varian whispered, a tired smile touching his lips. "I told you, El. We're lucky."
He stood up. The path to the sewers was ahead. The Cleaners were behind him. And inside him, he carried the heart of a sun.
Varian stepped into the darkness, the golden light of his arm illuminating the way.