The Colosseum, Final call

The ground cracked under Silva's boots as he launched toward Raak. Dust swirled behind him like a storm.

Raak didn't move until the last moment—when Silva's fist neared his jaw, Raak leaned in.

And caught it.

His massive hand enclosed Silva's wrist like stone swallowing a dagger.

"Still predictable," Raak muttered, then drove his forehead into Silva's face.

The hit echoed like steel on steel.

Silva staggered back, blood trailing from his nose. But he was smiling.

"You're slower," he said.

Then—he spun, crouched, and uppercut Raak so hard he lifted off the ground and smashed through the nearest wall.

Meanwhile

Kiluar ducked under Talgor's spear again, blades flicking out in an elegant cross-slash.

"Do you ever shut up?" Kiluar hissed.

"I haven't said a word," Talgor growled.

"Exactly," Kiluar muttered, parrying a thrust. "You're too boring and too loud at the same time."

Not far off, Jinka leapt over a broken statue base, landing hard with both boots into Voro's chest. He grunted, slid back, and wiped blood from his lip.

"You're still angry."

"And you're still talking," she snapped.

Alph twirled one baton behind her back, sliding under her opponent's blade. Her strikes were deliberate—clean arcs. She wasn't wasting movement. Every strike was like punctuation.

The spider-limbed woman hissed and lunged. Alph caught both blades between her batons and forced them down.

"Messy technique," she whispered. "Beautiful waste."

Inside the Ship

Akira winced, grabbing the side of his head.

Ginto was scanning his vitals, frustrated.

"Your blood pressure's spiking. Neural activity is erratic—frontal cortex is lit up like a storm. What are you feeling?"

"I don't know. There's something in my skull," Akira muttered.

Shinko, kneeling nearby, gently held his hand.

"Are you hearing something? Someone's talking to you."

Akira shook his head. "But who?"

Shinko didn't answer.

Elsewhere: The City

Silva's punch launched Raak through a series of walls—stone, steel, and finally glass.

He landed in a public square, shattering tiles and benches.

Civilians screamed. Phones came up. Most ran.

Silva followed, crashing down from the rooftop with a thunderous thud.

Raak rose slowly, breathing heavily.

Then turned toward a man trying to crawl away.

He grabbed the human by the leg and snapped it backward.

The scream echoed across the plaza.

Raak dug his fingers into the exposed bone, twisted, and pulled.

The man collapsed unconscious. Raak rolled his neck.

Then he stabbed.

Silva blocked with his gauntlet, sparks flying.

"Human bones are tougher than I thought," Raak said, grinning.

He immediately switched hands and drove the shard into Silva's leg.

"Gurhh!" Silva staggered from the pain.

Raak yanked the bone free, then aimed for Silva's throat.

Silva ducked and countered with a brutal left hook, sending Raak crashing through a fountain.

Gunfire.

"DROP IT! BOTH OF YOU!"

Cops swarmed the square.

Raak turned slightly, amused.

Silva didn't even flinch.

Raak rose from the shattered fountain and screamed, charging again.

Their fists collided midair, shockwaves flattening the police cruisers behind them.

Bullets tore through the air, pinging off both men.

As their clash intensified, Silva pivoted, dropped low, and threw a rising punch that connected with Raak's ribs.

Boom.

Raak's body hurtled across the square, crashed into the hood of a squad car, crushing it completely.

He went still.

Breathing, but unmoving.

Silva approached calm. Steady.

Not a word.

A young officer broke ranks, charging with panic in his eyes.

Silva's hand snapped out.

Crunch.

The man's skull shattered in his grip.

Silva didn't break stride. His fists stayed clenched.

Back at the battlefield

Jinka landed hard, blade dripping with red and teal. She wiped it across her shoulder, eyes locked on Voro.

"Haa... haa... I'm gonna end you once and for all," she panted.

Voro spit blood. "You hit harder than before."

"I'm done with your nonsense," Jinka replied.

Kiluar rolled beside her, breath tight.

"Alph's holding her own. Barely."

Jinka nodded. "We keep going."

Suddenly, a shadow loomed overhead.

Boom.

Raak's limp body slammed into the ground between them, flattening a section of ruined steps.

Everyone froze.

Silva landed moments later, still silent, still breathing hard.

He dropped Raak's unconscious body at their feet.

The enemy crew paused.

No blades raised.

The spiderlike woman clicked once, then stepped forward.

She lifted Raak across her shoulders without a word.

"I'm done with this. You leave now," Silva said, firm and cold.

Voro kissed his teeth and nodded once.

"We'll remember this."

They left.

No threats. No warnings.

Just silence.

Silva didn't look at anyone as he walked back toward the ship.

No words.

Only the sound of cracked stone beneath his boots.

Silva walked back toward the ship alone.

His boots hit the stone path with a slow, grinding rhythm. The heat of the battle still clung to his shoulders, but his face was unreadable—calm on the surface, but inside, something tightened.

The hangar ramp hissed as it opened, welcoming him into the dim light of the ship's interior.

He stepped inside.

And stopped.

His eyes locked on the medical bay—its lights were on.

Through the glass wall, Akira lay motionless on a hospital-grade bed. His body was lined with tubes, thick and thin, some glowing with soft pulses of light, others coiling into diagnostic machines. His chest rose and fell, but everything else was still.

Wires trailed from his temples. A soft, repetitive beep echoed.

Silva took a step forward, his voice unusually sharp.

"What the hell happened?"

Ginto, hunched beside the bed, didn't look up.

"He started with headaches. Mild spikes, nothing dangerous. Then... his body just gave out."

Silva blinked. "What do you mean gave out?"

"I mean everything stopped. Motor functions, organ signals. His muscles collapsed like unplugged machinery. I'm running his lungs and heart externally. One wrong line pulled, and he's gone."

Silva moved closer to the glass, fists clenched.

"Is it because of my cells?"

Ginto was silent for a beat.

"No... not directly. His muscular system adapted. That's not the issue. The problem... is his brain."

Silva turned.

"What about it?"

"It's... quiet," Ginto said. "Too quiet. No signals. Like it shut itself off. Voluntarily."

Silva's voice dropped to a whisper.

"You think... my cells did this to his mind?"

Ginto hesitated.

"Possibly. Not because of their structure, but what they may have triggered. The Varnak cells increased his cognitive threshold. They may have... opened doors."

Just then, Shinko entered—quiet as a shadow.

She approached the glass, resting two fingers on it.

"He hears voices," she said.

Silva looked at her. "What voices?"

Shinko's eyes never moved from Akira.

"A message. Like a warning. Someone... or something... is speaking to him. Not from outside. From within."

Silva narrowed his eyes.

"A psychic?"

Shinko shook her head.

"Physics needs some range. And if someone was linked to him, I would've sensed it. This isn't a connection. These messages... they spawn inside his mind. As if the thoughts were born there."

Silva stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

Just then, the rest of the crew entered the ship, exhausted, bruised, carrying the weight of their fight.

Barock was the first to see Akira through the glass.

"What the—?"

Jinka shoved past him, eyes widening.

"What happened to him?"

"Is he—?" Kiluar asked, voice tense.

"Not dead," Ginto said flatly. "But barely not."

Silva didn't turn to them.

Jinka narrowed her eyes.

"The cells, I told you he couldn't handle it. Human bodies aren't built for this."

"It's not the body," Shinko said. "He can hear something. Feel something. Something beyond the mind. That's what's doing this."

Alph stepped closer to the window, studying Akira.

"Wait—what do you mean 'cells'?"

Silva hesitated.

Then exhaled, and told her everything.

How he'd given Akira part of himself. How the cells were Varnak in origin—hyperadaptive, unstable. How they bonded with Akira's body instantly, even more effectively than Silva's had expected. Maybe too effectively.

Alph stayed quiet for a long moment.

Then said, softly:

"You know what's terrifying about humans?"

Everyone turned to her.

"They're new. Compared to us? They're babies. Still learning how to walk, as a species. But look at what they've done. They adapt faster than anything I've ever seen. Their curiosity—it's reckless. But it breaks limits. Most civilizations evolve slowly. Humans? They leap."

She glanced again at Akira, lying still beneath the hum of the machines.

"No doubt about it—something's brewing in there. He didn't just adapt to your cells. He's integrating them. And his mind—humanity's most dangerous weapon—is starting to use that new fuel."

She paused.

"And whatever's waking up in him... It's not something we've seen before."

Silva stared at Akira through the glass, his jaw tightening.

Outside, the stars didn't move.

Inside, the only sound was the quiet, steady beep of a machine fighting to keep a human body alive.