The bathroom mirror reflected a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. The black handprint on my back had spread like cancer through my flesh, its edges seeping deeper with each passing second. What had started as Elijah's mark was now something alive, something hungry.
**[SYSTEM ALERT: HIGH-RISK PSYCHIC CONTAMINATION DETECTED]**
**[CORRUPTION LEVEL: 5% AND RISING EXPONENTIALLY]**
**[ESTIMATED TIME TO COMPLETE INFECTION: 47 MINUTES]**
**[RECOMMENDED ACTION: IMMEDIATE S-CLASS ALPHA FLUID EXCHANGE OR MEDICAL POD TREATMENT]**
*Fluid exchange with an S-class psychopath? I'd rather perform surgery on myself with a butter knife.*
The mark pulsed against my spine like a parasitic heartbeat, each throb sending waves of searing agony through my nervous system. I could feel it burrowing deeper, seeking my spinal cord with the persistence of a predator that had caught the scent of prey.
I stripped off my shirt and twisted to get a better look in the mirror. The handprint had grown exponentially, its fingers extending like black roots through my skin. Where it touched, the flesh looked wrong—not quite rotting, but definitely not human anymore. The corruption was spreading faster now, racing toward my vital organs with malevolent purpose.
**[LIVESTREAM - VIEWERS: 9,247,891]**
→ @BloodRose_666: WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS THAT THING ON HIS BACK
→ @ChaosQueen: It's spreading like some kind of cosmic infection
→ @ShadowLord donated 2,000,000 credits: "ELDRITCH PARASITE TAKING OVER"
→ @OmegaLover: He needs medical attention RIGHT NOW before it reaches his brain
→ @Anonymous_7749: The corruption percentage is climbing too fast
The medical pod option flashed temptingly on my system interface like a lifeline. Full body scan, automated treatment, guaranteed cure within minutes. But it would also reveal everything—my hidden Omega status, my true power levels, every carefully guarded secret I'd fought to keep buried.
*Not happening. I'd rather die than become their experimental subject.*
That left the nuclear option: emergency self-surgery with whatever tools I had on hand.
**[SYSTEM WARNING: CORRUPTION LEVEL 18% - CRITICAL THRESHOLD APPROACHING]**
**[PSYCHIC CONTAMINATION SPREADING TO VITAL ORGANS]**
**[SPINAL CORD INFILTRATION DETECTED]**
I opened my medical kit with hands that barely trembled and pulled out a surgical scalpel, its blade catching the harsh bathroom light like a promise of salvation or damnation. Then I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from my emergency supplies—not for courage, but for antiseptic. And maybe just a little liquid courage.
I took a long pull from the bottle, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat and settle in my stomach like liquid fire. The rest went over the scalpel blade, sterilizing it with the kind of thoroughness that came from years of emergency medicine in war zones.
*Time to find out if I'm as good a surgeon as I think I am.*
I bit down on a towel, positioned the mirror so I could see my back clearly, and raised the scalpel with surgical precision. The mark seemed to sense what was coming—it pulsed faster, sending spikes of agony through my spine as if trying to stop me through sheer pain.
The first cut was the hardest. Steel bit into corrupted flesh, and black ichor mixed with red blood as I began carving away the infection with the methodical precision of someone who'd spent years cutting into human bodies.
The pain was indescribable—like being flayed alive while someone poured molten metal on the wounds. But I'd felt worse. I'd survived worse.
**[LIVESTREAM CHAT]**
→ @BloodRose_666: HE'S PERFORMING SURGERY ON HIMSELF WITHOUT ANESTHESIA I'M GOING TO BE SICK
→ @ChaosQueen: NO BACKUP NO SAFETY NET THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE
→ @ShadowLord: The surgical precision while cutting his own back is inhuman
→ @Anonymous_0001 donated 5,000,000 credits: "MOST HARDCORE MEDICAL PROCEDURE EVER"
→ @OmegaLover: How is he not passing out from the pain?!
The mark fought back like a living thing, its tendrils trying to burrow deeper as I cut them away piece by piece. Each slice revealed more corruption—black veins spreading through muscle tissue like a malignant spider web, seeking my spine and the precious nervous system beyond.
Sweat poured down my face as I worked, my vision blurring from pain and blood loss. But my hands remained steady, guided by years of surgical training and sheer stubborn refusal to let some cosmic horror priest mark me like livestock.
I carved deeper, following the infection's path through layers of tissue with the dedication of someone performing the most important surgery of their career. The scalpel scraped against bone as I dug out the deepest tendrils, black sludge oozing from the wounds like pus from a lanced boil.
*Come on, you parasitic piece of shit. Let's see how you like being the one getting dissected.*
The corruption writhed under my blade, trying to escape deeper into my body. But I was faster, more precise, cutting away each tendril before it could establish a new foothold. This was my body, my flesh, and I'd be damned if I let some eldritch parasite make itself at home.
The final piece came free with a wet, tearing sound that made my stomach turn. A chunk of corrupted flesh the size of a silver dollar, still writhing with malevolent life like a dying spider. I dropped it into the sink, where it hissed and dissolved like acid eating through metal.
**[SYSTEM ALERT: PSYCHIC CONTAMINATION SUCCESSFULLY REMOVED]**
**[CORRUPTION LEVEL: 0%]**
**[WOUND STATUS: SEVERE BUT STABLE]**
**[BLOOD LOSS: SIGNIFICANT BUT NOT LIFE-THREATENING]**
I grabbed a bottle of iodine and poured it directly onto the gaping wound without hesitation. The antiseptic burned like liquid fire, but it was clean pain—honest pain that meant healing instead of corruption.
"Just a piece of rotting meat," I muttered through gritted teeth, watching the last traces of Elijah's mark dissolve in the sink like the pathetic parasite it was. "S-class my ass."
I carefully used my hidden purification abilities to seal the worst blood vessels, keeping the energy signature minimal and undetectable. Can't have the system picking up abilities I'm not supposed to possess. Then came the bandages, layer after layer until the wound was properly dressed and hidden.
A fresh shirt completed the transformation back to Dr. Shen An—cold, clinical, untouchable. The pain was still there, a constant reminder of what I'd just endured, but it was manageable. Professional.
*Elijah's going to pay for this little gift. With compound interest.*
The doorbell rang with the cheerful chime of impending doom.
I froze, surgical scalpel still in my hand, blood still under my fingernails. Nobody should know where my quarters were located. Nobody should be able to access this level without maximum security clearance.
Through the peephole, I saw something that made my blood run cold despite the adrenaline still coursing through my system.
A thin figure stood in the hallway, barefoot and pale as death itself. Subject 06—Zero. The legendary killing machine who felt no pain and knew only violence, who'd been programmed to be the perfect weapon. He clutched a filthy teddy bear to his chest like a child's security blanket, and a black blindfold covered his eyes.
But somehow, impossibly, he was looking directly at my door.
"Doctor," he said, voice flat and mechanical as computer-generated speech. "I can smell you through the door. You smell... interesting. Sweet. Like something I want to take apart piece by piece. Can I see what's inside you?"
**[LIVESTREAM CHAT]**
→ @BloodRose_666: ZERO IS AT HIS DOOR THIS IS VERY VERY BAD
→ @ChaosQueen: The killing machine somehow found him
→ @ShadowLord: How did he even get to the residential level?
→ @OmegaLover: RUN RUN RUN GET OUT OF THERE NOW
→ @Anonymous_7749: This is how horror movies start
I should have been terrified. Any sane person would have barricaded the door and called for emergency backup. But looking at this barefoot kid with his dirty stuffed animal, all I could think about was the bacteria he was tracking through my sterile living space.
*Priorities, Shen. You just performed surgery on yourself and you're worried about floor hygiene.*
I opened the door without hesitation.
Zero tilted his head like a curious bird, nostrils flaring as he caught my scent more clearly. Behind the blindfold, I could sense his eyes tracking my movements with predatory precision.
"You smell like... like home. Like safety and warmth. But also like pain and metal and blood." He paused, processing the conflicting sensory input. "Like something I want to protect and something I want to break at the same time."
"You're not wearing shoes," I said, looking down at his bare feet with the kind of professional disapproval I'd reserve for a patient who'd ignored basic medical advice. "Do you have any idea how many pathogens you're tracking? This entire hallway is now a biohazard zone."
Zero blinked behind his blindfold, clearly not expecting a lecture on hygiene from someone he'd come to potentially murder and dissect.
"Get inside," I ordered, stepping aside with the authority of someone who'd spent years dealing with difficult patients. "Bathroom. Wash your feet. Thoroughly. Use the antibacterial soap—the blue bottle, not the green one. If you track any more filth through my quarters, I'm throwing you and that mangy bear into the medical waste incinerator."
For a long moment, Zero just stood there, his head tilted at an angle that suggested his programming was trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Then, with the mechanical obedience of someone who'd been conditioned to follow orders from authority figures, he shuffled inside.
**[LIVESTREAM EXPLOSION]**
→ @BloodRose_666: DID HE JUST SCOLD A KILLING MACHINE ABOUT FOOT HYGIENE?!
→ @ChaosQueen: THE AUDACITY THE ABSOLUTE UNHINGED AUDACITY
→ @ShadowLord: He's treating Zero like a misbehaving child who tracked mud inside
→ @Anonymous_0001 donated 10,000,000 credits: "MOST INSANE POWER MOVE IN HUMAN HISTORY"
→ @OmegaLover: This man has zero survival instincts and I'm here for it
I watched Zero pad toward the bathroom, still clutching his bear like a lifeline. The kid moved like a predator even when following simple instructions—all coiled violence and lethal grace wrapped in the body of someone who looked like they'd never had a proper meal.
*Four down, two to go. And this one wants to take me apart like a broken toy to see how I work.*
The wound on my back throbbed in rhythm with my heartbeat, a constant reminder that I was running out of time, patience, and probably sanity. But looking at Zero's thin shoulders and bare feet, I couldn't help but think he looked less like a killing machine and more like a lost child who'd never learned how to be human.
*This job is going to be the death of me. Literally. But at least the hazard pay is excellent.*
From the bathroom came the sound of running water and what might have been the first genuine human action Zero had performed in years.