“After two days, he stopped evolving,” Ray said quietly, staring through the reinforced glass. “But his mind is completely gone.”

  Inside the cell, the Craver twitched under dim red emergency lighting. Its elongated fingers scraped against the concrete in uneven circles. A low, guttural hum vibrated in its throat — not quite speech, not quite instinct.

  The thing had once been human.

  Kai kept his eyes on it a moment longer before speaking. “Your point?”

  Ray’s lips curved upward, not in amusement — but fascination.

  “There’s a new energy inside them,” he said. “We’ve confirmed it. It spikes during mutation, then stabilizes. We’re calling it Genesis Energy. GE.”

  Kai didn’t react.

  “It’s measurable,” Ray continued, tapping the tablet in his hand. “Cellular activity increases beyond known metabolic limits. Tissue repair accelerates. Muscle fibers thicken without traditional stress growth. But once the subject loses cognitive coherence…” He gestured toward the Craver. “Growth halts.”

  “So, they burn out,” Kai said flatly.

  “Not burn out. Plateau.” Ray’s silver eyes gleamed. “Something regulates it.”

  Kai’s fingers twitched once at his side. He didn’t like the excitement in Ray’s voice — not down here, surrounded by former colleagues chained behind reinforced steel.

  “And what does that mean?”

  Ray turned toward him fully now.

  “It means evolution isn’t random.”

  A sudden metallic clang echoed down the corridor.

  The Craver slammed its head against the bars. Once. Twice. Froth dripped from its mouth as red eyes locked onto Kai.

  Other cells responded — snarls rising like a distorted choir.

  Ray stepped back half a pace. “Temperamental today.”

  Kai didn’t move. He studied the creature’s muscle tension, the unnatural stamina in its violent movements.

  “How strong?”

  “Approximately one hundred and fifty percent baseline muscle output,” Ray replied immediately. “Bone density reinforced. Pain tolerance significantly elevated. Under emotional stress, performance spikes even higher.”

  Kai’s gaze remained steady.

  “How many more?”

  Ray’s expression dimmed slightly. “Confirmed cases are increasing. Quietly.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then Ray’s voice lowered.

  “Here’s the real question, Kai. Do humans generate GE naturally — or only after mutation?”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Kai glanced at him. “You’re suggesting we test it.”

  “I’m suggesting we consider it.” Ray leaned against the glass; eyes bright. “If SGV were the only driver, everyone would mutate the same way. A uniform outcome. But it’s different for each subject. Desire influence’s structure. Emotional instability accelerates transformation.”

  The Craver lunged again, chains straining.

  Ray muttered under his breath. “Primitive.”

  Kai finally stepped away from the glass.

  “How long before containment fails?”

  “I can’t say for sure, there were so many factors to consider.” Ray shrugged lightly. “You better take as today was the last day.”

  Kai exhaled slowly.

  “From this moment forward, you have full authority over Science and Technology department. Suspend all projects except SW and SGV. Redirect personnel and funding immediately.”

  Ray blinked once. “That’s a significant move.”

  “As you said we don’t have the luxury of incremental adjustments.”

  Kai’s tone left no room for debate.

  “We relocate to Bram in ten days.”

  Ray straightened. “Bram? Ten days?”

  “Every hour we remain exposed is a liability.”

  The echo of heels cut through the corridor.

  Both men turned as their conversation cut short.

  Linda stood near the entrance to the cell bay — frozen.

  Her eyes were locked on the Craver. Her shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly as her body tried to retreat without permission.

  Kai approached her calmly, resting a steady hand on her shoulder.

  “If you want your family safe,” he said quietly, “move them to Bram. Have them chipped.”

  She swallowed hard. “The chips… they don’t override free will?”

  “They regulate neural surges tied to extreme emotional spikes,” Ray answered before Kai could. “Think of it as a governor. A limiter.”

  Kai nodded. “You’re wearing one. You felt the stabilization.”

  Linda’s breathing slowed slightly.

  “Are we becoming like them?” she asked in a fragile whisper.

  Kai’s jaw tightened.

  “Not if we stay disciplined.”

  He looked toward Ray. “Without chips. Estimated failure rate?”

  Ray folded his arms.

  “Two out of three, conservatively. Anger. Lust. Greed. Obsession. Hunger. Everyone has a dominant drive. SGV amplifies it beyond restraint.”

  Linda’s fingers curled into her palms.

  “Best-case scenario,” Ray continued, “three to six months before national infrastructure destabilizes. That assumes cooperation from government and military.”

  Kai’s silence said enough.

  “Ten days,” he repeated. “Focus on results, Ray. Not hypotheticals.”

  Ray gave a slow nod.

  Kai turned toward the elevator.

  Inside, the quiet hum of elevator filled the space.

  Linda stared at the floor for several seconds before speaking.

  “Are we going to announce it?”

  Kai’s reflection in the elevator doors stared back — expression unreadable.

  “Not yet.”

  Her head lifted sharply. “But if people know early, they could prepare. We could prevent—”

  “Prevent what?” Kai cut in evenly. “Market collapse? Riots? Supply chain breakdown? Military fracture?”

  He voices out words by words with controlled pacing.

  “This information is a spark,” he continued. “If we ignite it without structure, it becomes an inferno. If the information leak from us, the first one to go down will be us.”

  Linda’s lips parted, then closed again.

  “We release it when we can control the fallout,” he said. “Not before.”

  She searched his reflection for hesitation.

  “Is that protection,” she asked softly, “or control?”

  For a moment, something flickered in his eyes.

  “I’m trying to ensure survival,” he answered.

  The elevator chimed.

  The doors opened.

  Kai stepped out, then paused.

  “I’m waiting for your decision,” he said without turning.

  Then he walked away.

  Linda remained still for a breath longer before following.

  General Daka sat behind his desk, the Voss proposal open before him.

  Containment projections. Mutation analysis. Civil collapse modeling.

  And chips.

  He leaned back heavily.

  “Damn fool,” he muttered — though he wasn’t sure whether he meant Kai or himself.

  An aide stood at attention near the door.

  “Send this to the President. Top Security clearance only.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And recall the entire TCF division. Active deployment readiness by tonight.”

  The aide saluted sharply and left.

  Daka rose and moved to the window.

  The city stretched below in perfect rhythm — traffic flowing, pedestrians laughing, neon lights flickering to life as evening approached.

  Order.

  Routine.

  Ignorance.

  He pressed a palm against the glass.

  If Kai was right…

  Then this calm was already borrowed time.

  And if he was wrong…

  Then the Voss Group had just lit the fuse themselves.

  Either way, the storm wasn’t coming.

  It was already here.