Chapter 15: The Core Experiment

Alden's Overclock buzzed in his veins, steady and controlled for the first time since his capture.

The failed subjects twitched violently, their unstable bodies phasing in and out of reality, struggling to hold themselves together. They had copied Iris's teleportation, Felix's strength, and Alden's speed, but it was clear they weren't designed for this.

They were falling apart.

Specter's voice echoed over the intercom, calm as ever.

"Interesting. You've stabilized."

Alden clenched his fists. "Yeah, I figured out your little trick."

Specter tilted their head. "Did you?"

Alden smirked. He had.

At first, he thought his Overclock had been failing him. That it wasn't adapting fast enough.

But in reality, it was doing something else.

It wasn't just reacting.

It was filtering.

The failed subjects had tried to sync to him—tried to copy the way his body adjusted to combat. But they weren't complete.

Overclock wasn't just speed.

It was selection. Optimization.

And they didn't have that.

Alden exhaled sharply. "These things aren't built to fight like us."

Iris dodged a strike from one of the failing subjects, teleporting a few steps back. "You're saying they're… defective?"

Alden nodded. "Yeah. They can't handle the constant rewrites. Their bodies are stuck in a loop."

Felix cracked his knuckles. "So what you're saying is—"

Alden vanished in a burst of speed—then reappeared behind one of the failed subjects, driving a heavy punch into its back.

The subject convulsed, its flickering form destabilizing further.

"We break the loop."

Felix grinned. "Love that plan."

The fight resumed.

Felix launched himself at the next closest subject, his Titan's Might flaring, delivering a devastating punch that sent one of them crashing through the nearest wall.

Iris teleported rapidly, disorienting the ones trying to copy her, forcing them to glitch out of sync.

Alden wove through them with fluid, adaptive speed, countering their broken movements before they could fully attack.

One by one—the failed subjects collapsed.

Their bodies glitched uncontrollably, flickering in and out of existence—until they finally stopped moving.

Alden stood over them, chest heaving.

They had won.

But something still felt off.

Specter sighed over the speakers. "Impressive. You're learning faster than expected."

Felix rolled his shoulders. "I mean, I do lift a lot."

Specter ignored him.

Alden's fingers twitched. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

Specter took a step forward, standing at the observation platform above them. "Of course. This was merely another phase of testing."

Iris's expression darkened. "Testing for what?"

Specter raised a hand.

The room shifted.

A hidden door opened behind them, a sleek, mechanical panel sliding away to reveal a deeper section of the facility.

Beyond it—was something worse.

Alden's breath caught.

Inside the chamber, a massive containment tank loomed.

Thick, reinforced glass, filled with dense, glowing blue liquid.

And inside—something moved.

It wasn't like the failed subjects.

It wasn't glitching.

It wasn't breaking apart.

It was alive.

Specter's voice was quieter now, almost… reverent.

"This is the true experiment."

The figure inside the tank stirred.

Alden stepped forward, his instincts screaming.

This was bad.

He didn't know how—but he knew.

The tank hissed.

Steam poured out.

The containment locks began disengaging.

And then—

The figure inside the tank opened its eyes.

And it spoke.

"…Alden Cross."

Alden froze.

Iris sucked in a breath. "It knows you?"

Felix frowned. "I don't like that."

Specter simply nodded.

"Yes."

The final containment lock released.

And the thing inside the tank stepped forward.