Apocalypse Baby

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

Adam's voice was low, tight with shock and disbelief.

Alex, confused by the intensity of Adam's reaction, responded calmly. "I didn't realize how stupid it was until I almost died. But hey, I survived—and I'm stronger than ever. That's what matters."

"Is it?" Adam shot back, voice rising, tinged with frustration. Whether Alex realized it or not, he was an asset—someone with rare potential. Watching him throw it all away over recklessness made Adam seethe.

"You do realize you could've died, right?" Adam said, stepping closer.

"I know it was reckless," Alex replied evenly. "But I needed more power. Fast. The final phase of the legacy trial is here. I couldn't afford to be weak."

"So you gambled with your life?"

"That wasn't the plan," Alex admitted, shrugging. "But that's how it played out—and it paid off."

Adam's voice sharpened, not loud, but biting. "Barely. Do you know how many players die trying to force breakthroughs like that? How many explode mid-absorption? Or end up twisted into something that doesn't even recognize itself in the mirror?"

"No, I don't," Alex said with a shrug. "Does it matter?"

He didn't understand why Adam was so worked up. What happened had already happened. There was no point crying over it now.

Adam exhaled harshly, shaking his head. He paced once, then turned back, his glare cutting. "It matters. Look at you. You're mutated. You've burned through every system safeguard."

Alex glanced down at his hands, turning them over. Lines of glowing energy pulsed faintly beneath the skin, like veins filled with liquid starlight. "I'm still me, though."

"No. You're not."

Adam pointed at him—at the lines across his body, the horn sprouting from his temple, the eerie glow in his eyes. "Is that human to you?"

"That reminds me." Alex tilted his head. "What exactly are these?"

He completely ignored Adam's question.

Adam froze for a moment, then sighed. Of course Alex didn't care. He understood now—Alex was "You could've died, Alex," Adam said flatly, stepping forward. "Do you understand that? Not metaphorically. Literally. Dead. Gone. Game over."

Alex nodded once, eyes calm. "It was reckless. I know. But I didn't have a choice. The final phase of the Legacy Trial is here. If I'd entered it the way I was before…" He shook his head. "I would've been eaten alive."

"So you decided to gamble with your life?" Adam's words cracked like a whip.

"It wasn't meant to be a gamble," Alex said. "It just turned into one. And it paid off."

Adam's jaw clenched. "Barely. Do you have any idea how many players die forcing breakthroughs like that? How many go into overload, combust mid-absorption? Or worse, mutate into something they can't even recognize in the mirror?"

Alex gave a small shrug, completely unbothered. "I don't know the stats. Don't think it really matters now, does it?"

That casual response hit Adam like a punch to the gut. His shoulders tensed. He turned away, paced once, then spun back around, fire sparking behind his eyes.

"It does matter," he said, voice rising. "Look at you."

Alex glanced down at his hand, slowly turning it palm-up. Energy pulsed beneath the skin like glowing circuitry, alive and humming with something not entirely natural.

"I'm still me," he said quietly.

"No, you're not." Adam pointed, finger shaking. "You've burned through every system safeguard. You've rewritten your biology. Look at the lines. The glow in your eyes. The horn forming under your hairline. Is *that* still human to you?"

Alex cocked his head, ignoring the accusation. "I was going to ask about those, actually. The lines."

The sudden change in topic threw Adam off for a heartbeat. His lips parted, then closed. He exhaled sharply, frustrated.

Of course Alex didn't care.

Of course he'd ignore the point and chase after the next piece of the puzzle. Adam knew now—knew the type of person Alex really was. The type that ran into fire without checking if it burned. The kind who'd sacrifice comfort, safety, even his *soul*… if it meant he came out stronger.

Still, Adam answered.

"They're pathways," he said finally. "Your body wasn't ready for the energy you forced into it. So it adapted. Fast. It carved new channels through your system—just to keep you from exploding like an Emi-grade core grenade. And this"—he gestured at Alex's whole body—"this is the price you paid."

Alex met his gaze, unblinking. "Hmm."

Adam stared at him. "You really don't care that you lost a part of your humanity?"

There was a pause.

Not long. But deep.

Then Alex answered. Quiet. Unapologetic.

"If this is what it takes," he said, "then it's the right path. Besides…"

He looked away, toward the dim sky above them.

"I don't think I've felt human in a long time. Not really. Not after what I've seen. What I've done."

The silence that followed was heavy. Adam looked like he wanted to argue—but didn't. His jaw tightened, lips pressed in a grim line. His gaze swept over Alex's face again, but this time, the frustration had dulled into something heavier. Something more conflicted.

Then, slowly, Adam sighed.

"I suppose the change was necessary," he said. "But I still wish you'd taken a slower path."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Why does it matter what you wish?"

But Adam pressed on. "That said… mutation or not… I still want you in my faction. As a Chosen."

Alex blinked.

Of course.

Of course Adam would make the pitch now. Still clinging to his goal.

"I already told you," Alex muttered, rolling his eyes. "I'm not interested."

"You don't know what you want," Adam snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Adam crossed his arms. "Join me. Join my banner. You're strong enough now to qualify. I've seen your fights. The way you think. The way you adapt. You've got massive potential—and I need people like that. People who don't flinch in the fire. People who understand what's coming."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "And what *is* coming?"

Adam didn't answer.

The silence stretched, tension thick in the air.

And then, a voice broke through it—smooth, calm, and tinged with amusement.

"You're making recruitment offers already?"

Alex turned.

A figure approached, slender and poised. He wore light armor woven with threads of silver and green. Long, ash-blonde hair flowed past pointed ears, and his emerald eyes gleamed with a mix of quiet mischief and sharp intelligence.

An elf.

He moved with effortless grace, no threatening aura, yet somehow his presence landed like a dagger—gentle, but unmistakably dangerous.

He stopped a few paces away, gaze flicking between them. His eyes lingered on Alex just a little longer.

"Well, well," the elf said. "The infamous human. You're even more interesting up close."

Alex didn't respond. He just stared, still and alert.

The elf smiled faintly. "Relax. I'm not here to fight… not yet. Just thought I'd introduce myself before the slaughter begins."

He extended a hand—not to shake, just as a formal gesture. "Name's Kaelen."

Alex didn't take it. He studied Kaelen's face, searching for a motive.

Kaelen didn't seem offended. If anything, he looked entertained.

"I couldn't help overhearing," Kaelen said, glancing at Adam. "Recruitment's cute. Really. But he won't join you. Not when better offers are out there."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Stay out of this, Kaelen."

"Just offering perspective." Kaelen turned back to Alex, his gaze gleaming with sly admiration. "You've taken an interesting path. But don't worry—we elves admire that kind of defiance."

Alex tilted his head. "Really? Is that why you threw away Sylen?"