VILLIAN BORN

And nothing, not even her grief over Ash's death, would stop her from seeing it through.

As she barreled out of the building, the world outside greeted her with cold wind and the faint sounds of sirens in the distance. But she didn't care. She was done. The world had broken her once—but now, it would see what happened when she broke it right back.

And there would be no turning back.

The wind howled through the streets, a bitter, icy gust that tore at her skin and burned her eyes. But Nana didn't feel the cold. No, she was beyond that now. Ash's blood still stained her hands, the memory of his lifeless body a constant presence in her mind. It was a weight she couldn't shake, but she wouldn't let it break her. She had no room for weakness, not anymore.

She sprinted through the alleyways, her boots pounding against the wet concrete, her breath sharp in the frigid air. The city seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of her, a labyrinth of neon lights and darkened corners, but she had no destination in mind. There was no plan, no map—only one goal: survival.

The hum of vehicles zoomed past her, oblivious to the chaos she'd just left behind. The world moved on, indifferent, as though nothing had changed. But everything had changed. For Nana, the game had just begun.

She darted into a narrow side street, the shadows swallowing her whole. Her heart raced, but her mind was cold, calculating. She could still hear the shots ringing in her ears, feel the heat of the gunfire, the weight of every life she had taken. The anger surged within her, a fire that burned hotter with every step.

But there was something else, too. Something darker. Something deeper.

She had tasted power now, and it was intoxicating.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp click of footsteps behind her. She whipped around, her hand instinctively reaching for her gun, her finger poised on the trigger. A figure emerged from the shadows—a woman, tall and elegant, dressed in a sleek black coat. Her eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

"You're good," the woman said, her voice a low purr. "But you won't get far. Not with all the blood on your hands."

Nana tensed, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the woman up and down. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

The woman smiled, a cruel twist of her lips. "A friend. Or maybe an enemy. That's for you to decide. But I can offer you something—something that'll help you take this whole city down."

Nana didn't trust her. She never trusted anyone, not after everything that had happened. But the woman's words lingered in her mind. Take the city down.

"You want to play the hero?" Nana sneered. "I'm no hero. I'm something else entirely."

The woman stepped closer, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "Good. I don't need a hero. I need someone who can burn it all to the ground."

Nana felt a flicker of something—an echo of the rage that had consumed her since that night, when she first realized the truth. The truth about her past. About the lies she'd been fed. About the people who had used her, discarded her, and then tried to control her.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. This was it. This was the moment she had been waiting for.

"Tell me what you want," Nana said, her voice steady, despite the storm swirling inside her.

The woman's smile widened. "Follow me," she said, and without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing into the darkness.

Nana hesitated for only a moment before following her. This was a game, and she was done being the pawn. It was time to take control.

They walked through the winding alleys, past abandoned buildings and dimly lit corners, until they reached a small, nondescript door. The woman knocked twice, and the door opened, revealing a group of people gathered inside—men and women in suits, their faces grim, their eyes calculating.

"This is where it all starts," the woman said, her voice almost a whisper now. "We have everything we need to take the city, to burn it to the ground. And you, Nana, are the key."

Nana stepped forward, her mind already whirring with possibilities. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was about power, about bending the world to her will.

She looked around the room, her gaze lingering on each face. They were all in it together, all part of the same game. And she was at the center of it all.

"Tell me how it works," Nana said, her voice cold, filled with resolve.

The woman smiled again, a glint of admiration in her eyes. "First, we eliminate the people who stand in our way. And then, we take everything. The money, the influence, the power."

Nana nodded, her heart pounding. She wasn't just part of this plan. She was the architect.

"We burn it all down," she said, her voice low and steady, filled with a sense of purpose she hadn't felt before.

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. And then, someone laughed. A deep, guttural laugh that echoed through the room.

"We'll burn it all down," the woman said, her voice now a sharp whisper. "And when the smoke clears, we'll be the ones left standing."

Nana smiled.

This was it. The beginning of something new.

And no one—not even Ash's death—would stand in her way.

As the door to the meeting room closed behind her, Nana felt the power surge within her. She was no longer a victim. She was a force to be reckoned with. The city would burn, and she would be the one to light the match.

The storm inside her had only just begun.

The dimly lit room felt almost suffocating, the heavy silence between them pressing down like an invisible weight. Nana's eyes never left the woman's face, studying every inch with a predator's gaze, searching for anything that didn't quite belong. The woman, her lips painted in a thin, artificial smile, seemed unbothered by the tension, but Nana wasn't fooled.

Nana tilted her head slightly, a mockery of curiosity, her voice deceptively soft. "Your skin," she began, her words drawing out slowly, "It's… incredible, isn't it? So smooth, so flawless. How do you keep it so… perfect?"

The woman blinked, clearly pleased by the compliment. She leaned in slightly, as if proud of her beauty. "Years of care, darling," she said, her voice lilting with practiced charm. "A few secrets, but nothing too difficult to maintain."

Nana nodded as if intrigued. She even allowed herself a smile, though it was laced with something darker. "It's truly remarkable," she murmured. "I bet most would be jealous of it."

The woman's smile deepened, her pride swelling at the attention. But Nana wasn't really listening. She wasn't interested in the woman's pride or the pretense of elegance she wore. No, Nana had other plans.

In a fluid motion, her hand darted out, swift and sure. The knife, sharp and gleaming in the dim light, appeared in her palm almost too quickly to follow. She slid it carefully across the woman's jaw, her movements deliberate and calm. The blade traced a line along her cheek, the perfect skin splitting open like silk, revealing what lay underneath.

The woman's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in shock. "What… what are you doing?" she gasped, her composure faltering for the first time.

Nana didn't answer. She only kept the knife moving, peeling away the illusion like the layers of a cheap mask. Beneath the delicate skin was a different story—synthetic, mechanical, artificial. It was nothing like the soft, human texture the woman had pretended to be.

Nana's lips curled into a cold smile. "I thought so," she whispered, her voice dark, almost pleased. "You were never real, were you?"

The woman, now fully exposed, stumbled back, her hands instinctively trying to cover the wound where her true form had been revealed. But it was too late. Nana had already seen it all.

"You were just a puppet," Nana continued, her voice becoming colder, sharper. "A thing. A fake."

The woman's attempts to maintain her composure were futile. Her breathing quickened, her panic rising, but Nana had already made up her mind. The woman was a threat, a lie, an obstacle. There was no room for her in Nana's world.

Nana took one step closer, the blade gleaming in her hand. "And now," she said with a sense of finality, "You're nothing."

With a flick of her wrist, the blade sliced through the air. The woman didn't have time to react as the cold steel struck. The last thing she saw was the glint of the knife, and then… nothing.

Nana stepped back, watching the woman crumple to the ground, her artificial skin torn and bleeding. There was no satisfaction, no triumph in her eyes—just the cold satisfaction of knowing she had removed another threat from her path.

She didn't need to explain. She didn't need to justify it. The woman had lied, and now she was gone. That was all that mattered.

Nana took a moment, letting the silence settle around her. The room felt empty now, the lingering echo of the woman's presence fading away. She had made her choice. And she was never going back.

She wiped the knife clean slowly, methodically, and then tucked it back into her sleeve. She wasn't interested in the world of pretenses and lies. No, Nana had bigger plans. There was a world to reshape, and she would do it on her terms.

She walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the stillness behind her. The game had changed. And Nana was now playing by her own rules.

Nana stepped over the lifeless body of Ash without a second glance. His blood slowly pooled beneath him, dark and still, but her eyes didn't falter. There was nothing left in them—no regret, no satisfaction. Just cold, unshaken emptiness. The hallway seemed quieter now, hollow. The distant hum of machines and flickering lights barely registered in her mind as she moved forward, her boots echoing softly against the sterile floor.

Outside, the night wrapped around the city like a suffocating shroud. Neon lights flickered in the distance, casting fractured colors onto rain-slick streets. Nana found herself sitting at a grimy food stall tucked between crumbling buildings. The sharp scent of oil and burnt meat clung to the air, mingling with the bitter cold. She didn't order anything. She just sat there, motionless, staring ahead.

The small television bolted to the corner of the stall flickered to life with static.

"Breaking News. Famed scientist Dr. Kale, renowned for his groundbreaking work in biological augmentation, has been found dead in his private facility. Authorities are investigating the scene, though no suspects have been identified. Sources claim the laboratory was left in disarray, and—"

The reporter's voice blurred into background noise. Nana's gaze remained distant, her expression unmoving. A flicker of light from the screen danced across her pale skin, casting shadows

Nana stepped out of the room, her footsteps unnervingly steady against the cold, sterile floor. The air was still thick with the metallic scent of blood, but it barely registered to her. Her eyes, void and glassy, drifted toward Ash's lifeless body sprawled awkwardly on the ground. His head lolled to the side, the once lively spark in his eyes now extinguished.

She stared at him, but there was no grief, no hesitation—only emptiness. Just another obstacle cleared. Without a second glance, she walked past him, the echo of her heels tapping in rhythm with the quiet hum of the facility.

Later that night, she sat alone at a dimly lit street food stall, its flickering neon sign casting pale blue light over the wet pavement. The air was cool, the streets unusually quiet. She sat still, hands wrapped around a warm drink she barely touched.

The small television perched in the corner crackled to life, the static fading into the sharp, rehearsed voice of the news anchor.

"Breaking news tonight—Dr. Kale, one of the world's most renowned scientists, has been found dead inside his private research facility. Authorities are investigating the scene for leads, but no suspects have been identified. Dr. Kale was known for his groundbreaking work in bio-mechanical integration. His sudden death has sent shockwaves through the scientific community."

A picture of Dr. Kale appeared on the screen, smiling behind his glasses, unaware of his impending doom.

Nana's expression didn't flicker. She stared at the screen in silence, taking in the words like distant noise. Then, slowly, the corner of her mouth lifted, a faint, cold smile curling upward.

She placed the untouched drink on the counter, the glass clinking softly, and stood up.

The night air greeted her as she slid into the car. The engine purred to life beneath her hands, and without hesitation, she drove off, weaving through the empty streets. The city blurred past, distant lights smearing across her windshield.

Eventually, she reached her secluded dormitory. The building stood in silence, shadows draped over its walls. She entered quietly, moving deeper into the cold, metallic interior.

In the corner of the room, the machine awaited her—a towering steel structure, sleek and ominous. A single pod stood open, its interior glowing faintly.

Nana undressed without pause, revealing the cold, gleaming plates of her mechanical frame beneath. Joints of polished metal, subtle grooves along her artificial limbs—a perfect symphony of flesh and machine.

She stepped into the pod, and the door slid shut with a hiss.

Mechanical arms extended, whirring softly as they began their work. Layers of synthetic flesh stretched over cold metal, veins of artificial blood pulsing beneath pale skin. Her face smoothed, skin seamless and soft. Fingertips that had been steel were now warm, delicate.

Moments later, the pod opened with a slow exhale of steam.

Nana stepped out, fully human in appearance—warm skin, soft hair, every inch a woman untouched by violence. But beneath the surface, the machinery still purred, cold and precise.

She crossed the room to a sleek record player resting on a nearby shelf.

With deliberate grace, she placed the needle onto the vinyl.

Soft, vintage jazz crackled through the speakers, the warm, mellow notes filling the sterile room.

Nana closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief sway to the rhythm.

Today had been a victory.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.