The atmosphere in Dr. Machinist's lab was always charged with a mix of tension and madness, but this time, it was different. The room buzzed with an energy more potent than the hum of machinery or the crackle of volatile experiments. Akuma stood at the center, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light as if summoning the weight of centuries past.

The team—Anna, Jason, and Goji—stood on one side, visibly uneasy. Dr. Machinist was at his workstation, tinkering with a vial of electric-blue serum, but his focus had shifted entirely to Akuma.

Akuma’s voice, deep and commanding, cut through the air. “There is something I need to share, something you all deserve to know. You, Anna, Jason, Goji—you call yourselves the ‘New Genocide Trio.’ But the title you bear is older than you realize.”

Jason frowned, crossing his arms. “What are you talking about?”

Akuma’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Sixty-five years ago, during the peak of the Tori no Ichizoku’s reign of terror, there was another trio. Their names echo through the annals of destruction: Doku, Aliyah, and Toya Kurai. They were known as the original Genocide Trio.”

The revelation hit like a bombshell. Anna’s cybernetic eyes widened. Goji’s jaw dropped. Even Jason, ever the skeptic, looked visibly shaken.

“And?” Jason pressed, his voice betraying a hint of unease.

Akuma stepped forward, his crimson gaze piercing into each of them. “They were my blood. Doku, Aliyah, and Toya Kurai were my descendants—linked to me through the gift of blood and power I passed down.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the faint crackle of Dr. Machinist’s machinery.

Dr. Machinist finally broke the silence, laughing nervously. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying the original Genocide Trio—those maniacs who poisoned, bombed, and slaughtered countless innocents—were your offspring?”

“Yes,” Akuma replied flatly, his tone devoid of emotion.

Machinist froze, his expression shifting to confusion as realization dawned. “And if they were connected to you… does that mean…”

Akuma turned to face him fully. “You too, Machinist. You carry my blood. Your gift of lightning manipulation—one of the rarest abilities—did not come from thin air. You inherited it from me.”

Dr. Machinist stumbled back, his ever-calm demeanor shattered. “No… that’s impossible. You’re telling me that you’re my father?!”

“Yes,” Akuma said simply. “You are my son.”

Jason’s voice trembled with disbelief as he turned to Akuma. “And us? What about us?”

Akuma’s gaze shifted to the New Genocide Trio. “You, Anna, and Goji—you are also tied to me through the blood gift. I had suspected it for some time, but it became clear as I observed your abilities. The power, the ruthlessness... you carry my legacy, whether you like it or not.”

Goji looked horrified. “We’re… related to you? To the Akuma?”

Anna, ever the pragmatist, narrowed her eyes. “If this is true, why tell us now?”

“Because the time has come for you to understand what you are a part of,” Akuma said. “The Genocide Trio is not just a title. It is a lineage—a legacy of destruction and dominance. You are the heirs to that legacy, as were Doku, Aliyah, and Toya Kurai before you. It is in your blood, as it is in mine.”

Machinist, still reeling, stumbled back to his workstation and gripped the edge of the table. “This… this changes everything. I thought my lightning manipulation was a freak mutation, but to know it came from you...” He trailed off, his mind racing.

Jason’s fists clenched. “You’re telling us this like it’s some great honor. But all it does is make me sick. You’re saying we’re part of the same bloodline as monsters like Toya Kurai?”

Akuma’s voice hardened. “Toya Kurai, Doku, and Aliyah were many things, but they were not weak. They embraced their power and made their mark on the world. You may despise them, but you cannot deny the strength of their legacy.”

“Strength?” Jason spat. “They were genocidal maniacs! That’s not strength—that’s madness!”

Akuma took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over Jason. “Madness and strength are two sides of the same coin. You, Jason, stand here because of the blood gift that flows through your veins. Do not forget that.”

Anna, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “If this is true, then what’s the point of telling us? What do you expect us to do with this information?”

Akuma’s gaze softened, just barely. “What you do with it is up to you. But know this: the blood that binds us carries both power and a curse. How you wield it will determine whether you rise above those who came before you or fall into the same darkness.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The room fell silent again, the weight of Akuma’s words sinking in. The New Genocide Trio exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence shaken by the revelation.

Dr. Machinist, though still visibly unsettled, broke the tension with a sardonic laugh. “Well, isn’t this a family reunion for the ages? Who would’ve thought I’d be working alongside my… father and siblings all this time?”

Akuma ignored him, his attention fixed on the trio. “You have a choice to make. Embrace your legacy or reject it. But remember this: no matter what you choose, you cannot escape the blood that flows through you.”

With that, Akuma turned and strode out of the lab, leaving the others to grapple with the bombshell he had just dropped.

As the door closed behind him, Jason let out a shaky breath. “This is insane. I’m related to him. To them.”

Anna placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression unreadable. “Whether we like it or not, this changes everything. But it doesn’t define us. We decide who we are.”

Goji, still pale, muttered, “Yeah, but how do you outrun blood?”

Dr. Machinist smirked, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “You don’t, Goji. You embrace it. And if I’m any example, you use it to make the world tremble.”

The trio exchanged uneasy looks, the weight of their newfound legacy pressing down on them like a stormcloud. Whether they would rise above it or succumb to it remained to be seen.

The revelation of their bloodline had left the lab in a stunned silence. But the gravity of Akuma’s words lingered, like an oppressive weight pressing down on the room. No one dared to speak for what felt like an eternity, each lost in their own thoughts about what this revelation meant for their identities—and their futures.

Jason was the first to break the silence, his voice tight with anger. “We’ve been killing, fighting, and destroying for years, and now we find out it’s all because of some curse in our blood? That’s what you’re telling me?” He slammed a fist onto the metal table, the sound echoing through the lab. “What’s next, huh? Are we supposed to just follow in Toya Kurai’s footsteps, too?”

Anna, ever the calm one in the group, folded her arms. “It’s not a curse, Jason. It’s just… history. Power handed down from someone who’s lived far longer than he should have. But we’re not puppets. We make our own choices.”

Goji leaned against the wall, his expression clouded with unease. “That’s easy to say, Anna, but what if it’s true? What if everything we’ve done, everything we are, is because of him? Because of what’s in us?”

Anna shot him a sharp look. “What we are is a result of what we’ve done, not just where we come from. Don’t let Akuma’s melodrama get in your head.”

Dr. Machinist, who had been oddly quiet since Akuma’s departure, finally turned away from his workstation. “You’re all missing the point.” His tone was unusually serious, and for once, there was no trace of his usual sarcasm. “What Akuma gave us—what he gave me—isn’t a curse. It’s potential. Raw, untamed potential. And the question isn’t whether it controls us. The question is, what do we do with it?”

Jason scoffed. “Oh, great. Here comes the mad scientist lecture.”

Machinist ignored him, his piercing eyes locking onto Jason’s. “You think this is just some burden you have to carry? Let me remind you who Akuma is. He’s not just some ancient warrior or a monster from the past. He’s a living embodiment of power. If you carry even a fraction of that in your veins, it means you’re capable of things you can’t even comprehend yet.”

“Yeah, like turning into monsters,” Goji muttered.

Machinist’s lips twisted into a sly grin. “Or gods. It’s all a matter of perspective.”

Anna frowned. “You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” Machinist snapped, his voice rising. “You think I’ve spent decades perfecting my craft, creating weapons, drugs, and tools of destruction, just to let my potential go to waste? No. Akuma’s blood gift isn’t just some family heirloom. It’s the key to evolution.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. “You sound just like him.”

Machinist shrugged, unbothered by the accusation. “Maybe I do. But if you’d seen half the things I’ve seen, you’d understand. Akuma’s been alive for centuries. He’s seen empires rise and fall, left trails of blood across history, and yet he’s still standing. Why? Because he knows how to use what’s in him. You should be asking yourselves if you’re ready to do the same.”

Goji let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, because world domination worked out so well for the last Genocide Trio.”

Anna sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’re not here to become the next Toya Kurai, Goji. Or Doku. Or Aliyah. We’ve done enough damage as it is. Whatever Akuma thinks this ‘legacy’ means, it’s not going to control us.”

Machinist smirked. “Control is relative, Anna. Just remember that.”

Anna shot him a glare, but before she could respond, the lab’s doors slid open with a hiss. Akuma strode back in, his imposing presence filling the room. He carried with him a small, ornate box, its surface etched with ancient symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light.

“I see the discussion has been lively,” Akuma said, his deep voice resonating in the quiet. He set the box on the table and looked at each of them in turn. “This is not just a matter of bloodlines or gifts. It is a matter of choice.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in the box? Another family heirloom?”

Akuma ignored the sarcasm and opened the box with deliberate care. Inside was a vial of crimson liquid, glowing faintly, as if alive. “This,” he said, “is the concentrated essence of the blood gift. It amplifies what already lies within you, pushing your abilities to their absolute limit.”

The group stared at the vial in stunned silence. Even Machinist seemed taken aback. “You’re saying that thing… could make us as strong as you?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“Stronger,” Akuma said simply. “But it comes at a cost.”

Goji frowned. “What kind of cost?”

Akuma’s gaze darkened. “Your humanity. The more you rely on the power, the more it consumes you. It is why Toya, Doku, and Aliyah became what they did. They embraced the power fully, and in doing so, they lost themselves. You must decide if you are willing to risk the same.”

Jason took a step back, shaking his head. “You’re insane. You want us to inject ourselves with that stuff and turn into monsters?”

Akuma closed the box and looked at him calmly. “I want nothing from you, Jason. The choice is yours. But know this: the world you fight against will not hesitate to use every weapon at its disposal. If you do not embrace your power, you may find yourselves powerless when it matters most.”

Anna, who had been silent, stepped forward and placed a hand on the box. “And if we refuse?”

Akuma met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “Then you fight with what you have and hope it is enough. But know this—when the time comes, the enemy will not hold back. And neither will I.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Akuma’s words settling over them like a stormcloud. The vial in the box seemed to glow brighter, as if mocking them with its promise of power—and its curse.