The day bled into evening by the time I left Paul’s shop. My steps were slow, my mind a relentless churn of thoughts. After the chaos of the night before, I’d forced myself to keep a low profile today, slipping back into the role of Liz—the quiet girl behind the counter, the one who restocked records and counted change. But my mind wasn’t in the shop. It was still wrapped around the stolen vials, the Genesis serum, and the horrific transformation I’d witnessed in that video. My fingers twitched at the memory, as if the sickly green glow of that man’s veins was still etched into my skin.
The city seemed quieter tonight, the low hum of Neo Lyon’s neon lights and distant sirens muted as I made my way home. Every streetlight seemed to cast longer shadows, every alleyway seemed darker. I turned into my building and climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to get back to the apartment, back to the vials. I couldn’t shake the pull they held over me, the twisted allure of that liquid power sealed behind fragile glass.
Inside, the air felt thick, oppressive. I tossed my bag onto the table, my gaze drawn instantly to the vials lined up like silent sentries. The three vials of clear liquid glinted under the dim light, each one promising a future I wasn’t sure I wanted to face. Beside them lay the USB drive, its dark surface a stark contrast to the glimmering vials. I picked it up, the weight of its secrets grounding me as I considered everything I’d read.
Those files on the Genesis project made one thing abundantly clear: this serum had been designed for a single purpose—to create metahumans, regardless of the cost. Whoever it was that tailored them, the League of Chaos, or another such organisation with great resources, they were clearly devoid of morals.
The most disconcerting, however, was the involvement of The Vault or even the Red Hands. I know I have to lay low for now, but I also lack information.
“I really need to gather a network for my other side…” I whispered, as I went towards a drawer. It stored the little things I could salvage from the accident. Among those, laid an old laptop that barely worked anymore. It’d be enough for searching the metawiki, though.
Despite all my hate towards how the site worked almost like a cult worshipping metahumans, it was clearly a treasure trove for information on their target of worship before even the news could relay information, most of the time.
The clunky fan of my old laptop whirred to life as the screen flickered on, illuminating the small table in my dimly lit apartment. The interface was slow, and the Wi-Fi signal wavered, but eventually, I pulled up Metawiki. I’d used it before, mostly out of morbid curiosity, but now, I scanned it with a different intent.
“Know thine enemy, right…” As I whispered, I started typing on my keyboard. First, we’ll look at the known villain organisations that would be big enough to finance that Genesis serum’s research.
As the page loaded, I felt the weight of the vials on the table behind me, a reminder of the twisted science they contained. With a few keystrokes, I navigated through the basic directory of Metawiki, and there, in the notorious Villain Organisations section, I started to sift through the most infamous groups in Neo Lyon’s criminal underground.
The League of Chaos came up first, as it was also present pretty much everywhere on the Earth with people living. I clicked on it. A grainy logo filled the screen—a red, handprint-like smudge that mirrored its members’ destructive tendencies. The organisation had roots that stretched back decades, and though their membership and tactics had evolved, their mission hadn’t changed: to instil fear and distrust in metahuman society. However, their primary aim was chaos itself—random attacks, public unrest, and a desire to make civilians fear metahumans. It was unsettling but didn’t align with the precision of the Genesis project.
“Not exactly subtle enough for something so… scientific,” I muttered, scrolling past pages of details on their known members and tactics.
I went to the next entry on the list. Again, a group that is active around the world and not only Neo Lyon: The Gilded Forge.
They were known as a large meetup for the brightest, craftiest and most immoral metahumans in the world. They tended to build contraptions or plans to steal or embezzle money so they could build even bigger contraptions.
"…Nothing concrete that would fit a bioweapon." I kept scrolling through the Metawiki entry, frowning as I reached the footnote sections. The Gilded Forge was too tech-oriented, more likely to build machines or weapons than fund a biochemical project as grim as Genesis. But I couldn’t ignore them completely. If they partnered with the right people, they could provide the resources for something like this.
Frustration churned in my gut as I scanned through entry after entry, each one falling short of the profile I needed.
Reaching the last entry, I clicked on the Red Hands hyperlink. The article was really short, clearly noting the supposedly small size of the group.
"Primarily a street gang with minor affiliations and a history of small-time crimes, including extortion, burglary, and minor theft," the article read. "Known to operate in the Brotteaux District, primarily targeting local businesses and occasional high-stakes robberies with minimal casualties. Minimal metahuman activity reported. Nothing new since last time?"
The page was really succinct, apart from what I used to pinpoint their next attack, I noticed the comments on the article.
MetaEyes69: What’s really weird about them is that they are clearly led by some metahumans wearing red gloves, but the dude showed up like 3 times, during their first few activities and since then he's been missing from.
LowProfileV: So you are telling me they named their organisation after their leader and then didn’t make actual costumes to fit the name? lololol
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
GravitasN1Fan: I think you missed the point when MetaEyes said the leader hasn’t appeared since their debuts. Think he’s ded?
MetaEyes69: Dunno bout that, but they should have ransacked the whole Brotteaux District at least once by now. Any clue why they aren’t enlarging their territory?
LowProfileV: You forgot that there are other groups maintaining territory in the city doing their stuff. Like real groups.
MetaEyes69: Sure, but why Brotteaux? Moon-Eaters half control the district normally, yet they attack business there?
The discussion stops here, with the last comment being posted yesterday, a few hours before the attack I thwarted on the Vault.
“So they were clearly looking for the Genesis vials and didn’t fear the Moon-Eaters attacking them? They are clearly working for some bigger organisation, or even maybe for the Moon-Eaters?”
I read the final comment once more, frowning. The Moon-Eaters—New Moon’s notorious self-named nemesis. Known for their ruthlessness and wide network of contacts in the city’s underbelly. Their influence had seeped into many Districts, Brotteaux included, marking the areas as their territory. If the Red Hands were acting under their protection, it would explain why they dared to operate so openly.
I drummed my fingers against the keyboard, the realisation weighing on me.I glanced back at the vials on the table, feeling a sense of dread settle over me. I had no idea what these were truly capable of, but in the hands of an organised crime group, they were undoubtedly a weapon.
“Whatever the fact, I’ll have to be cautious as Replica, the wiki talked about one metahuman in their ranks. Whether he is alive or not, he could be a danger for me….”
Scrolling back up on the page, I try to find mention of the leader or anything, but the page is still as empty as it was a few minutes ago.
“And it’s pretty much an unknown enemy…” I wondered if I should ask the wiki for more info on the Red Hands meta, but knowing how the internet worked, I decided against it. Best not to leave any digital footprint…
After thinking with myself for a few seconds what I should search for on the site, my hands moved almost by themselves, typing a familiar name.
“No results… Good, I am still under the radar for now.” Despite the small relief, I also felt weirdly disappointed. I know it’s been barely 24 hours since my first appearance and being known wouldn’t help me at all. But this slight disappointment couldn’t quite go away despite all my rationalisation.
Pushing my feelings away, I went to the more forum-like part of the site, where everything and anything was discussed. My goal was to see if there were any news in Neo Lyon that didn’t make it to the TV because they were too small for it to be covered.
The forum was bustling with chatter about Neo Lyon’s most recent disturbances—smaller incidents the news wouldn’t cover. Threads titled ‘Brotteaux Fire Incident - Metahuman Rumors?’ and ‘Fights in the Lower Districts: New Vigilante or Rogue?’ dotted the page. Each post was filled with speculation, theories, and half-baked conspiracies.
Among them, there was one thread that caught my eye: “Red Hands vs. Moon-Eaters turf war? Recent Escalations in Brotteaux.”
I clicked on it, and the page opened to an array of posts filled with rumours, theories, and a few photos of vandalised buildings marked with the Moon-Eaters’ symbol. Apparently, tensions had been rising in Brotteaux, with the Red Hands pushing harder and more frequently against the Moon-Eaters' grip in the district. Posts from alleged locals spoke of increased street fights, strange sightings, and more recent attacks on businesses.
AnonymoUser: “Heard from a friend that there was a break-in at some club in Brotteaux last night. They didn’t get away with much, but rumour is they were looking for something specific. Anybody know what?”
GravyLover101: “It’s all about territory. They want to edge the Moon-Eaters out. But this is the Red Hands—since when did they start aiming big?”
“Since when indeed…” I thrummed my fingers in the beat of one of Mel’s favourite song
The rhythmic drumming of my fingers against the keyboard faded as I pieced together the story unfolding in Neo Lyon. The Red Hands were stirring up trouble in Brotteaux, taking risks and shifting their focus from petty theft to something bigger—potentially at the command of the Moon-Eaters. But what was it about the Genesis serum that made it worth such escalation?
I leaned back, feeling the weight of the new questions stacking up in my mind. Metawiki was a solid starting point, but it was clear I needed real information, something that hadn’t been sifted through by the chaos of Neo Lyon’s underground gossip mill.
“Alright, Replica,” I murmured, looking at the neatly discarded costume of my other self sitting atop the table. “If I’m going to continue to live, I can’t just lurk in forums and hope the truth shows up on Metawiki.”
I stood up, stretching out the tension in my shoulders. The city outside my window was a maze of darkened buildings, its edges blurred by a hazy glow from distant lights. Seeing how the Red Hands had been serious with how they tried to steal from The Vault, then they wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate against someone who dared to mess with them.
I picked up one of the vials, feeling the cold glass against my skin as I considered the possibilities. The serum could be dangerous; I had no way of knowing what kind of effect it might have on me. Yet, the drive it ignited in me was undeniable. With a little more knowledge, I could be ready to deal with metas like those in the Red Hands—and perhaps others who might be hunting me in the near future.
The thread from the forum lingered in my mind, replaying fragments of conversation about the Moon-Eaters' hold on Brotteaux. If the Red Hands were in conflict with them, it would mean the Moon-Eaters had an interest in the serum or, at the very least, the territory that was caught up in it. And if they were willing to fight over the turf, then the serum might be more than just another street drug; it could be a gateway to a kind of metahuman power Neo Lyon had never seen before.
I held the vial up to the light. “Whatever you are,” I muttered, “you’ve caused enough trouble to be worth a war.”
A notification pinged from my laptop, the tinny sound cutting through the room’s silence. The forum thread I had left open earlier had a new post from AnonymoUser.
AnonymoUser: So uh, take this with a grain of salt. But I know someone who knows someone and all that jazz who might know a dude working with the Red Hands. Dude’s real speedy with his car and all that so he tends to take uncommon driving jobs. Anyway, apparently he was asked to get some package in the outer edge of Brotteaux. And by package I mean some Red Hands along with money or whatever they stole from their last attack.
“Looks like I’ll be getting some answers sooner than I thought,” I murmured, slipping the mask over my face and securing the hood of my makeshift suit.