Mira’s alabaster hair whipped around as she recoiled in shock. She had spent the last three hours watching videos and reading articles, neglecting to shower or change her sports clothes, now filthy with grime and green stains after two days of horrific adventures. She hadn't even informed her family that she was still alive, clinging to the faint hope they might check on her themselves. That tiny hope had long been extinguished by the cold blizzard that had become her heart.
And at this moment, none of that mattered as she stared at the small screen in her hand, transfixed by the sight of a young man jumping from the fifth story of a building. His face was hidden by a black hoodie, but her instincts screamed danger. She felt an overwhelming urge to put down her phone and flee, much like when she had fallen into the lion pen at the zoo as a child.
The memory of the lion staring at her, as if she were insignificant, resurfaced from a long forgotten crevasse in her psyche. Her body reacted now as it did then, paralyzed by the same fear as if in the presence of a superior being, capable of snuffing out her life like a blizzard could terminate a candle's tiny flame.
She clicked her tongue however, "Still not as powerful as that creature."
She'd witnessed two mighty beast fight mere hours before, and she had fallen in love with their display. Seeing the winner tear its opponent to pieces and feast on its entrails, awakened a deep desire in her heart. She seemed to crave something that she'd been deprived of her whole life, and the young man on the screen had somehow found a way to have what she desired.
Despite replaying the video countless times, watching him fall her mind expected him to splatter upon impact. But again, as he landed, she gasped, unable to suppress her reaction.
The young man landed in a gentle squat, causing the ground to crack in a web-like pattern beneath him. She had heard rumors of the military creating superhumans by altering genetic makeup, but she dismissed them as urban legends. Could the rumors be true? Yet, his brazen behavior made her doubt it was a government action. She believed they wouldn’t be so obvious.
Just as she was about to rewatch the video for the hundredth time, she heard approaching footsteps. She identified them as two distinct sets with different cadences. Her heart instantly turned chaotic, and if it wasn't for the emotional turmoil that had arisen in her heart, she might have realized how odd it was for her to discern this, given her lifelong poor hearing.
As the footsteps grew louder, her distress intensified. Her beautiful face was masked by anxiety, her heartbeat racing as if she were about to face that monster in direct combat and all she had to fight with was her bare naked body. For a moment, she felt returning to that cold underbrush was not a bad idea.
Knock! Knock!
Two violent knocks rattled the door, her body trembling with each one. She didn’t respond, her throat constricting her desire to speak out.
A small giggle slipped through the door. “Do you think she’s dead?”
“You asked the same thing when she had the flu. Shut up!” another voice, similar to the first, responded. Despite the offended tone, Mira recognized that cheery voice. It lacked any sympathy she hoped for.
“Whatever!” replied the first voice. “We won’t find out standing here!”
Bang!
The door burst open, and two tall young women with jet-black hair sauntered in, shocked to find Mira gazing indifferently at her phone. Their mouths dropped open, anger clouding their expressions as they realized Mira was ignoring them.
The one who had questioned Mira’s demise spoke first. “You're really weird, sister!” Her companion frowned and grabbed her hand, but she shoved her back violently. “No! I’m done holding back. Today I’ll give her a piece of my mind. She just stood there without saying anything, wanting to make fools of ourselves! Look at her face, it’s just like when Mother died. The same bored expression, annoyed at having to attend her own mother’s funeral.”
“Stepmother.” Mira’s cold lips parted briefly, making the distinction. Her stepsister’s shock was evident, her mouth and eyes wide.
She turned to her sister as if she might cry at any moment, then stormed out. The remaining young woman pursed her lips, her eyebrows knitting in a frown. She looked at Mira as if she wanted to say something but changed her mind seeing her engrossed watching the video playing on the phone. “Father sent us to check on you.”
“Three hours after I arrived? That must be a record.” Mira’s voice responded emotionless.
Her stepsister turned to leave but paused before closing the door. She sighed, “Honestly, you’re probably right. It’s a record when it comes to you.”
The door shut with a gentle thud, and Mira waited until the footsteps faded before slamming her head into her pillow.
Magh!
A long but muffled scream echoed, quickly absorbed by the cold and thick walls of her room. They were built to maintain silence above everything else.
Her stepmother had died of lung cancer at forty-five. Her father, devastated, had stopped speaking to Mira ever since. She knew he didn't love her, but his silence initially felt like a part of her heart was torn out. Eventually, that void, like any void ever, commanded to be filled by something, and in the absence of love, anger and apathy took root.
She lifted her head from the pillow and replayed the video once more. Watching it for the hundredth time, she finally put the phone down and headed to the shower.
Soaking in the tub, she stared listlessly at the ceiling, contemplating her life’s potential endings. Skewered, maimed, disemboweled or with plants growing out of her stomach, it didn't seem to matter. She realized that, regardless of how it unfolded, no one would care about her death.
Her eyes turned cold, and she picked up her phone, dialing her butler’s number. A longtime friend of her biological mother, he was the only person she remotely trusted.
“Albert, prepare the car. Yes. Plan the shortest trip to Alexander High. When?” She glanced at the blue numbers ticking away on her hand and smiled. The images of those two beasts fighting were seared into her mind. And so was the power that the youth could access. She would seize that type of power and then... “Right now!”
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She leaped out of the tub, drying her body hastily, ignoring the various bruises and cuts. The forest loomed in her memory, vivid and unforgettable, as if she had fallen in love for the first time. She could remember her neck becoming sore as she picture craning her neck to gaze at the canopy high up in the sky. She laughed hysterically, donning another tracksuit, this time ignoring the usual white she wore, and instead for the first time choosing a black one, with a hoodie to cover her wet hair. Three days ago she would have detested something so boring, but for some reason, she was enamored with the jet black color that seemed to devour all the light that dared approach.
She liked what she saw in the mirror, and grinned and headed for the mansion garage, ignoring her siblings and almost running to the black sedan waiting at the castle entrance.
She nodded to the graying man, casting a cold glance back at the massive structure she had learned to love to hate. “Let’s go, Albert.”
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“How did you find my address?!”
Ace looked puzzled. The person in front of him resembled Norman, but something felt off. This one’s height reached all the way to his shoulders, and his features were more handsome as well.
“Are you Norman’s brother?”
Norman’s shocked expression turned deadpan, and he pulled Ace into the apartment, cautiously checking to see if anyone had seen them together. Noticing no one on his floor had come out to check the voices, he heaved a sigh of relief.
"Get inside. My neighbors almost called the cops on me this morning. I don't want to cause another scene."
Ace, confused by what he meant, scrutinized the young man who seemed like a superior version of Norman. He pursed his lips, feeling an odd familiarity but needing to test it to be sure. His mind churned, and he devised a plan.
“What’s one million thirty-seven times eight hundred and thirty-seven, divided by—”
“Stop, stop! It’s really me. I don’t have any siblings.”
“Well, I can’t believe it,” blurted Ace, making Norman roll his eyes.
“Believe me, I've spent hours wondering why this happened. When I came back this morning, this face greeted me in the mirror.”
Ace was baffled. Although Norman’s voice was deeper, he recognized it but struggled to reconcile the name with this new face. Remembering what Norman had said just now, he asked. "Why did your neighbors almost call the cops on you?"
Norman shook his head and pointed to a large red splatter on the wall next to them. Ace's face turned grave, and his voice suddenly turned low as if he was afraid someone might hear him through the walls. His mind could only go to a single place seeing the smear of blood right here at the entrance.
"Who did you kill?"
Norman seemed to want to cry all of a sudden, but one couldn't tell if it was from sadness or happiness. "I didn't kill him, but I wish I did. When I came back, I heard screams out here at the entrance. My father was yanking my stepmom by her hair."
"And?"
"Well, I took a page out of your book and slapped him."
Ace turned to look at the patch of bloody wall, and when he looked down, he even saw a couple of teeth lying around. He clicked his tongue, thinking that Norman must've slapped the guy with a bat instead of his hands.
Norman continued, "What I didn't know was that my body had grown so strong that I almost killed him with that slap. Though I thought he deserved it, my stepmom begged me to let him go." Norman suddenly turned elated and Ace could see a deep satisfaction in his two eyes. "You should've seen his face, Ace. He looked at me like I was a monster. And I loved every second of it. I don't think that asshole is ever coming back."
Ace imagined it wasn't only him that had benefited from the trip, but it was still a shock to have his speculation proven right. Thinking of this fact, the sense of urgency only grew. But he had another speculation that he hoped would be proven wrong, but deep down he knew the chances were not on his side.
Ace said, "You aren't the only one who grew stronger, Norman."
Norman rolled his eyes, "Please stop. You could do this even before we left."
"You don't understand. However much you think you've improved, multiply it by ten when you apply it to me."
Norman shivered when he imagined the implications, and he suddenly pulled out his phone to play a video for Ace. A video of a young man whose face was obscured by a black hoody, jumping from a fifth-floor window.
Ace felt a strange familiarity. Seconds later, it clicked. “That’s me, isn’t it? Word spreads too fast!”
“Why didn’t you keep a low profile?" poked Norman. "Jumping from the top floor of our high school? Are you...”
Ace knew what Norman next word would be. He didn't blame him for misunderstanding, for in his mind, keeping a low profile was imperative.
“You don’t get it, Norman. I don’t have time. Every second counts.”
Norman was confused but listened. He knew Ace wasn’t a genius, but calling him average-minded was a mistake. He knew there had to be a good reason to justify his behavior.
Ace continued, “Something happened in that world to us. I’m stronger, my mind sharper, my bones unbreakable. I weigh a hundred and eighty pounds, but this morning I supported two thousand pounds on my shoulders. And I can run faster than—”
“A car?” Norman interrupted. He’d seen videos of Ace overtaking cars, moving with the agility of a cheetah but with a human form. It was awe-inspiring but didn’t explain why Ace was revealing this to the whole world. “I grew in strength from being in that world as well. On the first night right before the ants attacked, I broke my pushup record five times over. By now, I can probably do an infinite number of them and not tire out. I have grown five times stronger, and then another ten times on top of that. And the source of my power is in my apartment. But with every second that passes, that thing that made me gain such power gets one second closer to wasting away.”
“Well, what is it?!” Norman shouted, irritated but now demanding to know what he was talking about.
Ace grinned. “Wolf meat!”
Norman’s eyes widened in shock and he didn't dare believe. He gasped, “You defeated one of those wolves?”
Ace was suddenly trembling with fear at the thought of facing such a monster in battle. He swiftly clarified. “No! I found one dead after it fought something else and lost. I carved some meat off the carcass. I’m not that strong!”
Norman’s shock faded, and he sighed in relief. He couldn’t imagine a human defeating such a beast and didn't know what would happen to the world if such a human existed. Wouldn't such a person be capable of conquering the world? “So, I was right in saying it might not be the apex predator?” he added.
Ace confirmed. “Exactly. But I need your help to preserve the meat. Do you have cash? A good freezer costs at least five hundred bucks.”
Norman shook his head. “You can’t leave it in your motel room. Move it to a safe location. Warehouses with freezing capabilities near Golden Dragon City cost thousands for transport and storage. We need five thousand, but getting it without drawing attention is impossible.”
Ace nodded, frustrated. “What do I do? I can’t steal. Too many eyes are on me. Figure something out, Norman. The meat is spoiling, and the authorities might find it. That's why I was in a rush to get here and even risked having people find out about my strength. I had speculated that I wasn't the only one to be enhanced after being transported, but hearing your confession about your dad, only confirmed it for me. You think the party is going to want superhumans running around, and being physically above the law?”
Norman couldn't help but agree with Ace's assessment. The government would definitely step in and try to control the transmigrators and everything they brought back. In that case, Ace rushing was the best course of action as the clock was ticking on the time they had before the government stepped in. Norman realized their biggest problem wasn’t the meat spoiling, but its potential confiscation. Despite current peace and liberties, he knew the authorities’ dark past. Murder, torture, infanticide, organ theft, and worse. They seemed angelic if you obeyed but would treat you and your children worse than dogs if you threatened stability.
As Norman was beginning to wrap his mind around the potential outcomes, footsteps loudly echoed from the hallway, stopping right at Norman's apartment door.
Knock!
Knock!
Two loud knocks made their hearts skip a beat, the worst outcome appearing in their minds. They looked at each other, and they could see the same thing reflected in their eyes. Damn, they are fast!