In its desire to contain the uncontainable and to use what cannot be controlled, mankind has brought upon itself many different disasters. This continues into the modern era, even after the catastrophe, that turned most of the continent into a devastated land, inhabited only by ugly beasts, escaped from laboratories, or people, who will probably become their lunch.

Unlike the ruins scattered everywhere, the city of Finopp stands proud, with high walls protecting it from any outside dangers. Inside, people live safely as they did before the unfortunate event. Finopp is connected to the other cities by a network of underground tunnels, linking them into a web of the last islands of humanity on the continent. And the remaining humans thrive, making new discoveries and striving to terraform the lands outside, to restore the beauty of their country once again.

Edward was biology major, dreaming of helping the people behind the walls to change the country for the better. In his final year, they were to study genetic modeling and alteration of the human body and Edward was looking forward to it. A humanity that could equal the power of the mutated creatures behind the wall, or even the deities, seemed such a distant, but at the same time close dream, that he was impatient to hear the words about it from their wise teacher. Daydreaming, he didn't notice the lamppost, which he smashed his forehead into. His ears rang, but it wasn't the damage that bothered the guy, it was the...the very presence of the pole on this street. He'd lived in this town his whole life, but he could have sworn there wasn't a pole here. He shrugged his shoulders and walked onward, toward the institute.

But as he turned around the corner, he stood in a stupor. In front of him instead of a bus stop stood a high-rise building, whose design was very different from the rest of the city. There was no light in a single window... Edward turned around and was about to walk back, but he crashed into something. There was a completely transparent wall in front of him. He tried to go around it, but he was surrounded by walls on all sides. Trapped like an insect in a jar. And then darkness descended on the city...

"Object c-0434-Cambion detained, proceeding with transportation," the voice came from all sides, echoing off the walls of the small room where Edward was now. Thoughts flew frantically through his mind, and his fear grew. He started pounding on the walls of his confinement chamber, but it was to no avail. Suddenly he felt cold metal in his leg, followed by a flash of pain. He reached out for the needle, but instead of reaching for it, he collapsed on the floor.

Conversations could be heard outside, and the voice of one of the interlocutors was distorted by static.

-Subject has been placed in a sleep state, returning to the territory

-Acknowledged, we'll prepare the operating room. Dr. Muerte has already selected a project on which we can use such a durable creature. If it succeeds, it will be a great breakthrough! Colleagues abroad will be horrif-

The driver seemed to have turned off his device. All that could be heard behind the wall was a heavy sigh and a couple of loud curses towards the aforementioned doctor. All those words remained in Edward's mind like a blur of letters that he would never remember.

A bright light cut through his closed eyelids. When he opened his eyes, he found himself tied to a medical table. Slowly, thoughts began to return to his mind, filling him with fear. He tried to break free, but to no avail - his limbs were securely bound with straps. After a few minutes, Edward realized that he wouldn't be able to break free, so he began to just look around the room. From the first glance, he was being held in an operating room. There were life-support devices hanging on the wall, wires from which ran to the guy's body, monitoring his parameters. On the other side there was a wall of glass, behind which there was a corridor, with an entrance to the same operating room. There on the table, under the care of several people, a man wriggled in pain, emitting a glow from his eye sockets that lit up the room. But suddenly he went limp, collapsing onto the table and never moving again. The doctors didn't lift a finger, looking at his pulse, which had become just a running line.

Before he could even think about what had happened, Edward heard the door behind him swing open, letting in several scientists. One of them stood out from his colleagues, a head taller than the others. There was no mask on his face, and from his long right sleeve could be seen a shiny, chrome-plated prosthetic hand, extending up to his shoulder. When the man got close enough, Edward could read the inscription stitched into the shoulder of his labcoat. Dr. Alex Muerte.

-Look, our cambion is awake. Don't try anything, or else – he pointed to the device around the guy's neck – we’ll end our cooperation sooner than I'd like. Do you understand?

Edward nodded in panic, staring at the doctor. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. He realized that he probably wouldn't be coming home.

-Come on, don't cry. I hear you're interested in biochemistry, right? So are we. If you don't resist, you'll help us make a huge breakthrough. And if you do... We'll just find another, more suitable organism, - the scientist said, and then ordered his assistants to set up an IV. A rack of blood bags was brought to the table, but instead of the usual red liquid, Edward saw a strange black fluid that didn't reflect light. He felt a cold touch on his arm and saw an IV needle being inserted under his skin. He watched in horror as the black liquid slowly flowed down the tube until it reached his arm.

The beginning of the end.

The fluid began to enter his bloodstream, engulfing the blood cells and building its own. Edward shrieked in pain and arched up on the table, feeling as if liquid hot iron had been pumped through his veins. The vessels on his body grew darker, as if wrapping his body in a web of black. Tears sprang from his eyes and he began to squirm with even more force, but two assistants grabbed his hands and pressed them against the table, preventing the needle from slipping out. The scientist stood in the corner, smiling. As time passed, the screams gradually subsided, changing to sobs. Edward's eyes examined what he could see from his lying position. Veins and capillaries shone through his skin with a dark network of connections, and his skin itself was slightly paler. Closing his eyes, he passed out from exhaustion. The scientist disconnected the boy from the emptied IV and ordered his assistants to take him to the cell. They carefully removed his limp body from the medical table and, with a quick glance in the scientist's direction, wheeled the body down the corridor.

Dr. Muerte, making sure he was alone, pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

-This is Alex. Subject c-0434 survived the procedure and was sent to a holding cell. No, he's not conscious. Yes, we checked his vital signs, he should be awake. Yes, I realize it's costly, but you have to understand, this subject is not human. It's a cambion, they're stronger than ordinary mortals. The experiment will be a success; you don't need to threaten me. Wait, what? A time limit? If the subject survives, it will take at least half a yea- How long?! You realize how little – the other side hung up. The phone in the mechanical hand crackled, then went straight to the trash can, hitting its bottom with a clatter. The superiors couldn't tolerate hundreds of failures, but they wouldn't listen to demands. They wanted to see results.

Edward opened his eyes slowly, rubbing them with his hands. Darkness was all around him, and he was lying on the hard bed. His head was buzzing, but other than that, there was no pain. He swung his legs off the bed and looked around. It was as if he had been put in a prison: there were two flat mattresses in the room, fixed to the wall, and a mirror with a small sink. To his right was a grate of transparent polymer through which the dim light from outside oozed. Outside he could see dozens of similar cells, each with people in them...to some degree.

He got out of bed and walked over to the mirror. Around his neck was a metal collar with a red light, blinking every now and then. His clothes had been changed to a set of white shirt and pants, and his old clothes had probably been burned. The veins on his face showed through a bit of black, but not as obviously as he could remember. His skin was pale; apparently his new 'blood' had caused that. Edward measured his heartbeat, which was frighteningly infrequent, then unbuttoned his shirt and looked at his body. There was a web of black vessels running from his heart, intertwining in bizarre patterns and spreading all over his body. Tilting his head, he began to examine his hair-the roots of it had begun to darken, taking on the same color as his veins.

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"Apparently, the effect is gradual. It's going to get worse soon..." - the boy thought to himself before returning to the bed. He sat down on its edge and began to examine his palms. His fingertips showed the knots and tangles of black capillaries. Edward took a deep breath through his nose and brought his finger to his teeth, biting into the skin. A dark liquid, more viscous than normal blood, slowly dripped onto his palm.

-What have they injected me with...? - He whispered under his breath, in a shaky voice.

A quiet female voice came from the other side of the corridor.

-They don't like it when you do things to yourself. They can punish you for it.

Edward looked in the direction of the voice. In the semi-darkness, he could see the outline of a girl sitting near the bars. There seemed to be some sort of branch, coming out of her body...or a tail.

-Who are you? - He asked, peering into the darkness

-My name is Eve, but that's not important. Look at the ceiling - the boy raised his head and saw vines coming from the vent. Surprised, he turned his head back towards the corridor.

-Put your palm against it. I'll help you - Eve said in a quiet voice, trying not to wake the others. Edward reached out for the vine, which immediately wrapped around his palm. He felt the wound on his finger tighten with something. When the plant released his hand, he looked at his palm in surprise. There were black petals covering the bite wound.

-They'll be gone soon, but in the meantime, you'd better get some rest. After the operation, you shouldn't strain yourself." After these words, the woman's silhouette was seen to move back to the bed. Eve laid on her back and didn't say anything further.

Edward thanked her in a whisper and laid down on the bed as well. Slowly drifting off to sleep, he noticed that the vine was no longer visible from the vent.

A bright fluorescent light illuminated the living section. After a while, reluctantly, the boy opened his eyes. There were sounds of walking and talking. Edward raised himself up on the bed, and he could see the true size of the compartment. Dozens of cells, lined up on two floors, where people were held in twos, if not more. Children, the elderly, and people as old as himself. And they all stood out in some way... On the second floor, a little girl threw a ball to her cellmate without touching it with her arms, and the latter simply returned it with one of his six hands, repeating the process. In another cell, twin brothers were playing tic-tac-toe, drawing symbols in the air out of literally nothing. Glancing at the cell where Eve was, he saw her standing at the sink, rinsing something in her hands. But he didn't have time to see what it was, for soon there was a beep, after which the doors to the cells opened. People began to emerge from their cells and line up as the guards counted them. Edward hurried to his place, too.

The guards approached each person in line, asking something and scribbling it out on their clipboard. Edward stood beside Eve, greeting her.

-You do not look so good - she said with a sad smile, - my petals died yesterday after touching your blood. How are you even on your feet?

He was surprised to hear that. But on the other hand, it made sense, because if the liquid hurt him, it would be all the more deadly to the plants.

-At least I feel better than I did yesterday - he replied, then looked at his palms. The blood vessels were no longer so prominent, but the skin was noticeably pale. And at the site of yesterday's bite, there were neat stitches that seemed to tighten the wound.

Edward was brought out of his thoughts by a guard snapping his fingers in front of his face. The guy jumped in surprise and looked up at the guard.

-Your number is sewn into the inside of your shirt collar, if you haven't noticed. Read it to me, - guard said in a monotone voice.

A little confused, he pulled back his collar and dictated:

"c-0-4-3-4"

The guard flipped one page on the tablet, then a second. Then the guard looked at him in surprise.

-с-0434? Is that right? - Edward nodded his head as he watched the guard pull out a walkie-talkie - Cell number 42, I need two men. We need to get the subject to the designated scientist.

If Edward could, he would have gone pale. His heart raced with fear again, and he shook his head. Quick footsteps were heard from the other end of the corridor.

-Please step out of the line and do not resist.

A guard grabbed the boy's arm, but he began to struggle, shouting incoherently. One of the guards kicked him in the ribs with a rifle butt, which stopped the screaming. The boy's eyes blurred with pain, and his legs went limp. The guards twisted his arms and dragged him toward the exit, while the other subjects looked at him with a look of sorrowful sympathy.

-Is that common around here? - The light-haired guard turned his head to his colleague - the contract didn't spell out all the details.

-The important thing is that you get paid for it. It may not be the prettiest job, but it's still a job.

-Yes, but it didn't say anything-

-Listen here -he poked his finger into the chest of his blond colleague - it doesn't matter what was said and what wasn't. You work here now. You have to maintain order. If something breaks it, you try to fix it first, and then, if it doesn't work, you eliminate the problem. Got it?

-Yes...

The doors, the lights, the rooms-it was all blurring together in Edward's eyes. It seemed that the blow had hit him in the solar plexus, so he was on the verge of losing consciousness. But after a while, he was finally able to raise his head. He was being led up to the familiar operating room. The guy didn't twitch, not only because of weakness, but also because of helplessness. It was clear that he couldn't break free, and even if he could, the collar would probably kill him.

Edward was placed on the table, strapped down again. The same scientist who had changed his life forever yesterday stood with his back to him. Taking a syringe from the table, Dr. Muerte turned to face the boy, smiling as he had last time.

-You are a very lucky man, - he said as he injected the syringe into his vein, -you were able to wake up today, which means that your body can really serve science. You can be proud of yourself.

The scientist took from him a syringe full of blood, which was now dark and viscous like tar. He put the syringe in the refrigerator and swung the IV machine over to the boy, where the bag with the devil's mixture was hanging again. Edward simply closed his eyes.

Agony.

The pain was no worse than the first time, but he already knew he couldn't die from it. Gritting his teeth, he felt the poison spilling through his veins, mixing with the old dose and eliminating what was left of his biological blood. And though his mind was able to withstand the pain, his body was not. After a while, the boy lost consciousness.

Anticipation. Stasis. Edward stood in an open field where there was nothing, not even the sun. Boundless fields of emptiness, shrouded in darkness. He tried to at least see his body, but he couldn't. It was as if the darkness around him had swallowed him up. And then, in the middle of the void, there was a whisper. The barely audible words cut loudly through the fabric of silence, rushing past him. But no matter how hard he listened, he couldn't understand the words. The whispers grew louder and louder, as if surrounding him. Suddenly it went quiet as quickly as it had begun. Edward sensed that he was not alone. Someone was clearly standing in front of him. Someone who could see him clearly. Someone who had lived here for a long time. There was a cold palm on his shoulder. Gaining courage, Edward opened his mouth, but all he felt was a sharp pain in his stomach. Streams of blood ran from the hole, intertwining and leaving a cold, wet trail behind them. The boy fell to his knees, covering the gaping hole in his body with his palms. And the whisper came back again, filling his mind....