Awakening

The faint rustles of leaves outside the cabin barely registered against the low hum of tension in the room. Her gaze remained fixed on Quinn. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his face pale and drawn despite the faint energy radiating off him.

And the shadows---they had taken on a life of their own.

At first, Alexia thought it was just her exhaustion playing tricks on her. But as the hours dragged on, she couldn't deny what she was seeing. The shadows didn't move with the flickering of the fire she'd started in the corner fireplace. No, they moved on their own, shifting unnaturally, curling closer to Quinn like some sort of sentient fog. 

Her system's calm, robotic voice broke the silence:

[Subject 'Quinn' adaptation probability now at 78%.]

That was good, right?

"System," she murmured quietly, careful not to wake him, "What happens if the adaptation isn't complete? What will he be?"

[Outcome is indeterminate. Subject may stabilize with enhanced capabilities or become a higher-functioning infected.]

Her grip on the machete tightened. The idea of Quinn--this stubborn, infuriating man who had saved her life more than once---becoming one of them was unthinkable. But the shadows weren't trying to hurt him. If anything, they seemed... protective, like they were tethered to him.

Quinn groaned again, his body convulsing slightly before falling still. The shadows recoiled momentarily, then surged back, wrapping tightly around him.

Alexia shifted, muscles tense as she moved closer. "Quinn," she whispered.

No response.

She reached out, hesitating as her hand hovered above him. The heat radiating off him was palpable, but there was something else---a strange, almost magnetic pull. It wasn't natural. 

Her fingers brushed his shoulder.

The shadows reacted instantly.

They shot outwards, dark tendrils silthering across the room. Alexia yanked her hand back. stumbling as the inky blackness curled toward her before retreating.

Her system chimed again:

[Warning: Energy field unstable. Subject requires further isolation.]

Isolation? In the middle of the apocalypse? That wasn't exactly an option.

"You're really not making this easy, are you?" She muttered, glaring at Quinn as if he could hear her.

The shadows seemed to pulse in response, their movements slowing before receding back into his body.

Quinn woke up to darkness, though his eyes were open. Or.... were they?

The fever that had gripped him so tightly was gone, replaced by a strange clarity. His body felt lighter, stronger, yet unfamiliar.

A voice----not Alexia's---- echoed in his mind, low and whispery: You are ours now.

The shadows coiled around him, not as a threat, but as an extension of himself. He could feel them, like an extra limb he didn't yet know how to control.

Quinn sat up slowly, his body protesting with a dull ache. His eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cabin, and he saw Alexia sitting by the fire, her machete resting across her knees. She was watching him carefully, her posture tense.

"You look like hell," she said flatly.

He managed a smirk, though it felt forced. "Feel like it, too."

Her gaze flicked to the shadows pooling faintly around him. "You're... different too."

Quinn followed her line of sight, his brow furrowing as he raised a hand. The shadows responded instantly, swirling upward before dissipating. His stomach tightened.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

"Good question," Alexia said, standing. "You tell me."

The shadows didn't just move--they listened. They obeyed.

As he stared at the inky tendrils swirling faintly around his fingers, he could feel them, like a part of him he hadn't realized was missing. They pulsed with his heartbeat, shifting with his thoughts, as if they were alive.

"What did you do to me?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

Alexia didn't move from her spot by the fire, but her eyes didn't leave him. "I didn't do anything. You got yourself infected, remember?"

His jaw tightened at her bluntness, but the reminder sent a chill down his spine. The infected. He'd seen them up close---soulless, relentless monsters driven by some primal instinct to destroy. He flexed his hand, watching the shadows curl and flicker in response.

"I don't feel like them," he said, more to himself than her.

"Good," Alexia said dryly, though her grip on her machete tightened. "Because if you did, we'd be having a very different conversation right now."

Her words weren't exactly comforting.

He pushed himself, to his feet, ignoring the way his muscles screamed in protest. The cabin tilted briefly before his vision steadied, and he glanced down at his hands again. The shadows were gone now, receded back into him like they'd never existed.

But they were still there. He could feel them, coiled beneath his skin, waiting.

"System," Alexia said suddenly, her voice sharper now.

That was new.

He frowned, glancing at her system. "System?"

She froze; her expression momentarily blank before she shot him a look. "What?"

"You just said 'system'. What system?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, too quickly. "Just thinking out loud."

Quinn narrowed his eyes. She wasn't telling him something, but he was too distracted to press her. Instead, he turned his attention to the shadows, willing them to return. 

Nothing happened. 

His frustration flared, and for a brief moment, the room darkened. The fire in the corner seemed to flicker unnaturally, the shadows pooling around the edges of the cabin.

Alexia's machete was up in an instant, her body tense as she watched him.

"Quinn," she said slowly, "you need to get a handle on that. Fast"

"I'm trying," he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

The shadows receded again, leaving the room in silence. He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair.

"What the hell is happening to me?" he muttered.

Alexia hesitated before answering. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it kept you alive."

"Alive," he repeated bitterly, glancing at her. "This doesn't feel like living."

"You'd rather be dead?"

Her question cut through his frustration, and he looked at her properly for the first time. There was no judgement in her expression, just quiet intensity. She was watching him the way she always did, like she was waiting to see if he'd prove himself useful or become a liability.

Quinn clenched his fists. "No. I'd rather figure out what this is before it kills me---or you."

The way the room darkened when Quinn's emotions spiked sent a chill down Alexia's spine. The shadows were dangerous; she could feel it in her bones. But Quinn didn't seem like he was losing control---not yet at least.

She watched him carefully as he paced the cabin, his movements stiff but deliberate. He was trying to figure it out, to force the shadows to bend to his will. 

Her system chimed softly in her mind:

[Subject 'Quinn' has successfully bonded with unidentified energy source. Genetic adaptation stabilized. Current abilities: Shadow manipulation(limited). Potential for evolution.]

"Potential for evolution?" she muttered under her breath.

"What?" Quinn asked, turning to her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, but his narrowed eyes told her he wasn't buying it.

He took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "You're hiding something."

Alexia held his gaze, her mind racing. She couldn't tell him about the system---not yet. Not when she barely understood what it was or why it had chosen her.

"I'm trying to keep us alive," she said finally. "That's all you need to know."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't press her. Instead, he turned his attention back to his hands, flexing them experimentally. 

The shadow flickered briefly before vanishing again. 

"We need to figure out what triggers it," he said, more to himself than to her. 

Alexia sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Preferably before you accidentally suffocated me in my sleep."

He smirked faintly, the tension between them easing just slightly. "No promises."