Chapter 3 — The Anomaly Awakens

The adrenaline was still surging through Xander's veins when the dust settled.

Around him, the battle was over. GeneCorp's shock troopers lay defeated, some unconscious, others retreating back to their drop ships. The rebels moved quickly, grabbing what they could from the smoldering convoy before pulling back into the shadows of the undercity.

But none of that registered for Xander.

All he could feel was the strange, burning electricity thrumming beneath his skin. His heart raced, but his body felt weightless. His senses were sharper than they had ever been — he could hear the subtle drip of leaking fuel, the crackle of sparking wires, even the panicked breath of the last retreating trooper more than fifty meters away.

Mara's voice cut through the haze.

"Xander!"

She grabbed his arm, shaking him.

He blinked and looked at her, disoriented. Her face was pale, eyes wide with shock and something else — fear.

"You moved like… like nothing I've ever seen," she whispered.

He stumbled back. "I didn't… I don't know how."

Before Mara could respond, Voss's voice crackled in their earpieces.

"Fall back to Sector Delta. We'll regroup underground."

Mara gave him a final look — a mix of awe and uncertainty — and tugged his arm. "Come on."

They ran through the twisted metal remains of the battle site, down side alleys slick with rain and grime, deeper into the labyrinthine maze of the undercity. Xander's mind reeled.

What just happened to me?

He hadn't imagined it. He'd felt his body react faster than thought, stronger than any normal human. It was instinctual — as though something buried deep within his DNA had suddenly woken up.

The moment they reached the hidden access tunnel and descended the rusted ladder back into the rebel safehouse, Mara confronted him.

"Talk," she demanded, crossing her arms.

Xander sat down hard on a crate, breathing heavily. "I don't know. I swear, Mara. I didn't know I could do that."

"You were faster than the drones. You disarmed a shock trooper like it was nothing."

He buried his face in his hands. "I thought I was normal."

Mara crouched in front of him, studying his face. "You're not. And I think GeneCorp knew it long before you did."

Before he could respond, Voss entered, his cybernetic eye flashing with urgency.

"We need answers," Voss said bluntly. He looked between them. "Mara told me what she saw."

Xander exhaled shakily. "It just… happened."

Voss nodded slowly. "Your body reacted to danger on an instinctual level. GeneCorp doesn't label someone Omega-Class without reason. You're more than just an anomaly — you're a genetic wild card."

Xander looked up at him, desperate for clarity. "But why? What does that mean for me?"

Voss rubbed his jaw. "It means they failed to control you. Every experiment they've run has been predictable — until you. You are something they didn't intend to create. And they're terrified of what you might become."

Xander swallowed hard.

Voss gestured for them to follow. "There's someone you need to meet."

He led them deeper into the undercity, beyond the rebel encampments and into an ancient maintenance sector long abandoned by the city's infrastructure authorities. The walls were lined with old data terminals, their screens flickering weakly.

In the center of the chamber stood an elderly man, hunched and frail, wearing a long coat filled with data chips and ancient wiring. His eyes were hidden behind cracked lenses, and his hair was a wild nest of silver and white.

"Dr. Elias Holt," Voss introduced. "Former GeneCorp lead geneticist. He resigned years ago."

The name struck Xander like a bolt of lightning.

Holt turned slowly, his eyes focusing with difficulty. When he spoke, his voice was soft, gravelly.

"So… you're the boy."

Xander nodded hesitantly.

Holt approached with a shuffle. "I was part of the team that worked on Project Omega. Back then, we dreamed of rewriting humanity's limits. But GeneCorp… they twisted it."

Xander's breath caught.

"You're not a mistake," Holt continued. "You're the final prototype. The only one that survived."

Mara looked between them, stunned.

"What did they do to me?" Xander asked hoarsely.

Holt's expression was filled with both pride and regret. "They spliced you with adaptive genetic sequences derived from hundreds of enhanced strains — strength, speed, rapid cellular regeneration, heightened perception. But unlike other subjects, your genome didn't reject them. Instead, it integrated… and evolved."

Xander sat down heavily. "So I'm… a weapon."

"No," Holt said gently. "You're evolution."

Xander's stomach twisted. "But I can't control it."

"You will," Holt assured him. "The triggers are instinctive now, but with training, you can harness it."

Voss cut in. "GeneCorp will do anything to reclaim him."

Holt nodded gravely. "They'll never stop. Not until they dissect him or destroy him."

Xander stood slowly. "Then I fight."

Mara placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll fight."

Holt reached into his coat and pulled out a small device — a data cube. "This contains everything I know about Project Omega. Training protocols. Genetic stabilization techniques. You'll need it."

Xander took it with trembling hands.

Holt looked at him with something like hope. "They wanted to create the perfect soldier. Instead, they may have created their worst nightmare."

---

The following days were a blur of preparation.

Mara took it upon herself to train Xander in combat basics. At first, he was clumsy — unsure of his own strength, hesitant to strike. But each session unlocked more of his instincts. He learned to move faster, anticipate attacks before they happened, and recover from injuries that would incapacitate any normal human.

But with each breakthrough came fear.

He could feel the changes inside him — his reflexes too sharp, his body healing too quickly, strength surging in moments of anger or panic. It was as if his DNA was learning with him, adapting to every challenge.

At night, he lay awake staring at the data cube, terrified of unlocking something he couldn't control.

One night, Mara found him alone on the training floor, drenched in sweat.

"You're pushing too hard," she said softly.

"I have to," he rasped.

She sat beside him. "You're not alone in this."

He looked at her, the weight of fear clear in his eyes. "What if I lose control? What if I become… something worse than them?"

She took his hand. "Then we'll pull you back."

Xander let out a shaky breath. "You believe that?"

"I have to."

---

Meanwhile, Voss coordinated the next phase of their rebellion. With GeneCorp tightening their grip on the lower sectors, it was only a matter of time before they discovered the rebels' hidden base.

"We can't just hide," Voss said during a strategy meeting. "We need to strike first."

Plans were laid out for a high-risk assault on a GeneCorp research facility rumored to house data on Project Omega — and possibly, the whereabouts of Xander's parents.

Xander volunteered immediately.

"I need to know," he said.

Mara and Voss exchanged a look, then nodded.

The night before the mission, Holt gave Xander one final piece of advice.

"Trust your instincts," the old scientist said. "But never forget your humanity."

Xander clenched his fists. "I won't."

---

The mission began at dawn.

A small team infiltrated the outskirts of the GeneCorp compound, disabling perimeter defenses and slicing into surveillance feeds. The facility was a towering structure of steel and glass, humming with energy and guarded by drones and armed patrols.

Xander felt the now-familiar surge of power within him as they approached the outer gates. He focused on controlling it, breathing steadily.

Mara whispered in his ear. "Ready?"

He nodded.

Voss's voice came through the comms. "Go."

The team moved swiftly, using EMP grenades to disable the drones and silenced weapons to take down guards. Xander led the charge, his reflexes honed to a razor edge. He disarmed enemies before they could blink, his movements almost a blur.

They breached the facility's main lab. Inside, the walls were lined with vats of genetic samples, monitors displaying sequences of engineered DNA.

Holt's voice crackled through Xander's earpiece. "Find the central terminal. Download everything."

Mara worked the console, fingers flying across the interface.

"I've got something," she whispered. "Project Omega logs… and a location tag."

Xander's heart leapt.

"Your parents," she confirmed.

Suddenly, alarms blared.

"Security lockdown initiated," a cold automated voice echoed through the facility.

"We have a company," Voss warned.

GeneCorp enforcers flooded the corridors, plasma rifles charged.

Xander stepped forward. "I'll hold them."

Mara grabbed his arm. "You can't take them all."

Xander met her gaze with calm determination. "I have to try."

She hesitated — then nodded. "We'll cover your escape."

The corridor doors burst open.

Xander moved.

He was faster than before, his body reacting with perfect efficiency. Bullets and energy blasts seemed to slow as he weaved between them, disarming one enforcer, disabling another with a strike to the chest that dented their armor.

But they kept coming.

A shot grazed his side, burning flesh — but the wound closed almost instantly.

His strength surged, but so did something darker — a primal instinct whispering that he could destroy them all if he let go completely.

He fought to stay in control.

The last enforcer fell, and silence returned.

Mara and the others rejoined him, eyes wide with awe.

"You're… unstoppable," she breathed.

Xander shook his head. "Not unstoppable. Just determined."

They escaped into the night, data secured, mission successful.

But as they disappeared into the shadows of the undercity, Xander couldn't shake one thought:

This was only the beginning.