lab

Abel stood before the massive gates of the laboratory located on the very outskirts of Zaun. The building, once a symbol of progress and the power of the chem-barons, now looked like a grim shadow of its former self. The walls were covered in cracks, from which poisonous mist seeped, and an ominous silence hung in the air, broken only by occasional sounds coming from within. Randel had given him a clear task: to deal with the chaos and, if possible, bring back whatever remained. But something about this silence was unsettling.

As Abel approached, he expected to see Randel's people, who were supposed to meet him and escort him inside. Instead, he was met with a grim sight: at the entrance lay several bodies in lab security uniforms, and on top of them, like predators over their prey, sat three thugs. Their faces were hidden behind filter masks, and their arms—or rather, one arm each—were replaced by mechanical prosthetics that glinted faintly in Zaun's dim light.

One of the thugs, the largest, with a prosthetic arm adorned with a snake engraving, raised his head and rasped:

"Hey, buddy, you're in the wrong place. Turn around and leave while you're still in one piece. Your boss Randel will handle this mess himself. There's nothing left to do here."

Abel froze for a moment, assessing the situation. His eyes slid over the bodies of Randel's men, then over the thugs. He nodded slowly, pretending to agree, and turned to leave. But at that moment, something sharp pierced his shoulder. He felt a slight prick, followed by a cold sensation spreading through his body. Abel turned and saw one of the thugs, the smaller one with a prosthetic resembling a crossbow, grinning as he lowered his arm.

"Well, kid, don't blame us, blame fate," the thug muttered. "We were ordered to silence anyone who knew about this. You, my friend, just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Abel looked at the dart sticking out of his shoulder and slowly pulled it out. The poison, which was supposed to paralyze or kill him, had no effect. His body, long adapted to Zaun's toxins, simply ignored it. He tossed the dart to the ground and looked at the thugs with cold calm.

"You made a mistake," he said simply, removing his gas mask.

The thugs exchanged glances, then the first one, with the snake prosthetic, stood up abruptly, his mechanical arm beginning to transform into something resembling a blade. The other two followed suit, their prosthetics also shifting, preparing for battle.

Abel didn't wait. He moved forward with such speed that the thugs barely had time to react. His toxic breath began to fill the space around him, and his body, hardened in the mines and battles with mutants, moved with precision and strength beyond that of an ordinary man. His first strike took down the nearest thug, knocking him to the ground and tearing the prosthetic from his arm. The second tried to slash at him with a blade, but Abel easily dodged, grabbed the thug's arm, and used his momentum to throw him to the ground.

The third, the one who had shot him with the dart, tried to retreat, but Abel was already upon him. His toxic breath began to take effect, and the thug coughed, losing his bearings. Abel ended the fight with a single precise strike, leaving all three lying on the ground amidst red blossoms.

He took a step back, surveying the results of the fight. These thugs were stronger than the usual street thugs, but even their mechanical prosthetics and training couldn't compare to what he had faced before. "This is nowhere near the level of Randel's enforcer," he thought, recalling Crom, whom he had fought earlier. The only thing that set these thugs apart was their prosthetics, but even those hadn't saved them.

Abel stood at the threshold, his gaze sliding over the half-destroyed walls, stained with shades of red and purple, bearing witness to something the world was never meant to see. The air was heavy, saturated with a strange, metallic smell that he recognized immediately—it was blood and some highly unstable chemical that, with every breath, caused a tingling in his lungs, followed by a wave of warmth spreading through his body.

Judging by the signs, Abel had found the first piece of the puzzle: Shimmer, the drug that turned people into monsters and destroyed everything it touched. The laboratory, once gleaming with cleanliness and advanced alchemical technologies by Zaun's standards, was now plunged into semi-darkness, its walls and floor covered in strange purple veins that pulsed like the heartbeat of some invisible entity.

Abel stopped at the entrance, removing the upper part of the protective suit he had taken from the smugglers. He knew his body had long adapted to toxins, but Shimmer was something new, something that could help him evolve. The purple haze slowly enveloped him, and he felt it seeping into his skin. His body momentarily expanded, muscles tensing, before everything returned to normal. He clenched his fist, feeling a slight numbness in his fingers.

"Yes, this is definitely Shimmer," he whispered, looking at his hands. "But will my 'adaptability' handle it without consequences?"

Moving further in, Abel began to notice the horrific aftermath of the experiment. Mutated bodies lay everywhere. Their eyes were empty and unfocused, their skin darkened, and their limbs deformed beyond recognition. Some were still breathing, but their bodies were so distorted that it was hard to tell where the human ended and something else began. The purple hue of their skin pulsed as if energy from the Shimmer flowed beneath it. It seemed this wasn't Shimmer but a very distant and unstable prototype.

Abel approached one of the mutants, curled up on the floor. Its stomach was bloated, and its skin was covered in hard growths. With a cold, almost emotionless gaze, Abel extended his claws and with difficulty made an incision in the mutant's abdomen. Inside, he saw what he expected: organs were deformed, veins had grown to incredible sizes, and muscles had become so dense they resembled stone. The Shimmer caused unstable mutations, akin to evolution but without control. The body couldn't withstand such pressure and was destroyed from within.

"Randel is definitely working with Silco," Abel muttered, examining the mutant. "But why?"

He stood up, surveying the room. In the distance, a loud roar echoed, followed by a blow that made the walls tremble. Abel tensed. He moved toward the sound, weaving through the mutilated bodies and pools of blood mixed with the purple glow of Shimmer. The air grew thicker, and the light dimmer.

Soon, he found himself in a deeper part of the laboratory. This place was clearly the heart of the experiment. Around him stood flasks with unknown substances, plants, and animals trapped in glass containers. Some were still alive, but their forms were so distorted that it was hard to tell what they once were. In the center of the room lay the remains of scientists—their bodies torn apart—and next to them stood a broken cage.

Abel realized this was where they had been cultivating Shimmer. But something had gone wrong. His attention was drawn to movement in the far corner of the room. There, amidst the debris and blood, stood a creature. It was enormous—over two and a half meters tall. Its muscles were swollen to incredible sizes, its skin darkened and covered in growths, and beneath it pulsed purple blood. The creature was clearly under the influence of drugs, but that didn't make it any less deadly.

Abel watched as the monster repeatedly slammed what remained of one of the scientists into the ground. Each blow was accompanied by a loud roar and the shaking of the floor. The pit where it was driving the body grew deeper, and blood and Shimmer splattered in all directions.

"The culprit," Abel whispered, assessing the situation.

He knew fighting this creature head-on would be madness. But he had no choice. The Shimmer he had absorbed gave him a chance. His body was already adapting, and he felt strength gradually filling him.

"Alright," he said to himself, preparing for battle. "Let's see who's stronger."

The monster, sensing his presence, slowly turned. Its eyes, filled with rage and pain, locked onto Abel. The roar it let out was so loud that Abel felt as if his eardrums might burst from the pressure.

Abel removed his gas mask again, hoping he wouldn't have to put it back on every time.

Gradually, with each breath, his toxic breath escaped. White smoke, saturated with toxins, began to fill the room, enveloping everything. Abel hoped it would quickly slow the mutant down, giving him an advantage. But he was wrong.

Despite its size, the mutant was incredibly fast. Its movements were sharp and precise, each strike accompanied by a gust of wind that barely missed Abel. The mutant's blows left deep craters in the ground, and the laboratory walls shook from the force of its attacks. Abel, relying on his experience, didn't try to inflict serious damage. Instead, he focused on tendons, trying to limit the mutant's mobility. But every time he got close, the mutant threw him back with incredible force.

"He's too strong," Abel whispered, feeling his muscles tremble. "I can't take him down like this."

His toxic breath, which usually affected everyone nearby, had no effect on the mutant. The creature continued to attack, its movements growing more aggressive. Abel desperately dodged, but fatigue began to take its toll. His body, accustomed to toxins and pain, was now faltering under the onslaught of this monster.

And then the unexpected happened. The mutant, which had been fighting straightforwardly until now, suddenly changed tactics. Its leg, like a hammer, struck Abel in the chest, sending him flying. Abel crashed into a wall of Shimmer barrels, which collapsed on him with a crash. The chemicals spilled, drenching his body, seeping into every pore, every wound.

At first, Abel tried to get up, but the pain that overwhelmed him was unbearable. It felt as if thousands of needles were piercing his body, his bones grinding to dust, and his eyes and brain melting from the heat. He screamed, but the sound was drowned out by the mutant's roar as it approached to finish him off.

"No..." Abel whispered, feeling consciousness slipping away. "I can't... die here..."

But the pain was too much. His body, immersed in Shimmer, began to change. Muscles expanded, bones cracked, skin stretched to its limit. Abel lost consciousness, but his body continued to transform. It grew, becoming larger, stronger. The mutant, ready to deliver the final blow, stopped. Its foggy gaze fixed on what was happening before it. Even in its clouded mind, a sense of fear arose.

Abel, now no longer human but something greater, rose. His body, massive and muscular, was covered in purple veins that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. His eyes glowed red like embers in a furnace. The mutant retreated, sensing the threat. But Abel gave it no chance.

With incredible speed, almost invisible to the eye, he slammed into the mutant, his claws sinking into its chest. The mutant's skin, seemingly impenetrable, began to tear under Abel's assault. He didn't think, didn't plan—he acted on instinct, like a beast. His claws tore through flesh, blood spraying in all directions. The mutant screamed in pain, trying to fight back, but Abel was unstoppable.

The mutant, desperate to survive, began tearing at Abel's back with its claws. But even that didn't stop him. Abel continued to attack, his movements growing more ferocious. The mutant's blood mixed with Shimmer, creating a strange, pulsating mass that covered the laboratory floor.

Finally, the mutant fell. Its body, mutilated and broken, lay on the ground, and Abel collapsed beside it, his chest heaving, his eyes still glowing red. He looked around, his consciousness slowly returning. The laboratory was destroyed, the walls stained with blood and Shimmer, the air filled with the stench of death.

Abel lay on the floor of the ruined laboratory, his body still pulsing with the residual effects of Shimmer. Around him, amidst the devastation and chaos, beautiful flowers had bloomed, their petals a deep blood-red, their stems shimmering with purple light. They seemed alive, as if feeding on the energy left after the battle. The air was thick with a sweet, almost metallic scent mixed with the tang of Shimmer. It was both beautiful and eerie.

His consciousness slowly returned, but his body was still in turmoil. "Blood is worth more than life" and "adaptation" worked in unison, trying to cope with the excess of Shimmer. Abel's muscles swelled into grotesque growths, then shrank back to human proportions. His skin darkened with purple veins, then lightened, becoming almost translucent. His hair, now reaching his waist, was damp with sweat and blood, and the glowing scars that once marked his skin had vanished, leaving behind smooth, almost childlike flesh.

Abel felt the energy absorbed from the mutant flowing through his veins, strengthening and calming him. It was a strange sensation—as if his body was undergoing a second birth. He couldn't move, but he felt no pain. Instead, he felt every cell in his body rearranging, adapting to the new conditions. "Blood is worth more than life" seemed to redirect all its power to support this process, as if understanding that only this way could Abel survive.

Several hours passed before his body finally stabilized. Abel opened his eyes and slowly stood, looking around. The laboratory was in ruins, but the flowers that had grown from the mutant's blood still bloomed, their petals gently swaying in the toxic air. He approached one and cautiously touched it. The flower was warm, and its sap, dripping onto his hand, caused a slight tingling.

"Strange..." he whispered, looking at his hands. They looked the same as before, but he felt different. The power now pulsing within him was new, unfamiliar. He felt... renewed.

Abel glanced back at the mutant's body, now almost entirely consumed by the flowers. They wrapped around it, as if trying to hide the traces of what had happened. He knew he had to move on. Randel was waiting for a report, and the laboratory, despite its destruction, still held secrets that could be useful.

He began to make his way through the ruins, his legs slightly unsteady, but with each step, he felt more confident. Soon, he found what he was looking for—a room with records. Most were damaged, but a few remained intact. Abel sat at one of the tables and began sifting through the data.

The more he read, the clearer the picture became. Randel and Silco were indeed collaborating, but their experiments with Shimmer were far from complete. For now, they, along with several other chem-barons, were trying to create a new weapon in the form of Shimmer, but more often than not, they ended up with what Abel had seen today—a result of the drug's extreme toxicity. The mutant he had fought was one of those failed experiments.

Before leaving, he glanced once more at the flowers. They continued to bloom, their beauty starkly contrasting with the devastation around them.

"Well," he whispered, "let's see what happens next."