Consciousness returned to Kai not as a gentle dawn, but as a brutal, disorienting slam. His first sensation was a sticky wetness coating his hands, his face, matting his hair. A coppery, metallic scent, thick and cloying, filled his nostrils, overwhelming the usual chemical tang of the alley. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing. The dim, flickering emergency light of a nearby derelict building cast long, distorted shadows.
He was sprawled on the grimy ferrocrete, his clothes torn and soaked. Soaked in… blood. Dark, viscous, and far too much of it to be solely his own. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed its way up his throat. He pushed himself up, his limbs feeling strangely heavy, yet imbued with an unfamiliar, thrumming strength.
A cool, emotionless text scrolled across his inner vision, stark and unexpected:
[System Alert: First Mission Complete: Survive Initial Exposure.] [Reward: +1 Strength, +1 Vitality, +1 Stamina, +1 Agility, +1 Perception.] [Anima Core: Nominal. Awaiting Further Stimuli.]
Kai flinched, his mind reeling. System? What System? When did that get there? He vaguely recalled a voice, an internal pronouncement as the energy wave hit him – Welcome, Conduit… System Initializing… But he'd been lost in a supernova of pain. Was this… thing a part of the energy? A side effect of whatever was in that crate? The questions swirled, adding a layer of cognitive dissonance to his physical shock.
Then he saw them. Or what was left of them.
Two of the Junkyard Dogs lay nearby. Their bodies were mangled, torn apart with a savagery that defied conventional weaponry. It looked like a wild animal had attacked them – a very large, very powerful animal. Chunks of flesh were missing, and the scene was one of utter carnage.
Kai stared, his mind struggling to process the horror. He remembered the ambush, the crash, the blinding energy from the ruptured crate… and then nothing but an abyss of pain and roaring chaos. What had happened after he blacked out? How had he survived? The "System" claimed he had.
A wave of nausea hit him as he looked down at his own hands. They were caked in dried and fresh blood, and… something else. He felt a strange, primal satisfaction emanating from deep within his gut, a satiation that was utterly alien and deeply terrifying. His stomach roiled, not with hunger, but with the sickening fullness of a recent, grotesque feast.
No… no, I couldn't have… The denial was a thin shield against the rising tide of horrifying certainty.
But the evidence was undeniable. The raw, almost bestial power coursing through his veins, the blood, the carnage… He had done this. During his blackout, transformed by the crate's energy, guided by this nascent "System," he had become a predator. He had not just killed, but consumed.
As if summoned by his horrified realization, another chilling message scrolled across his inner vision:
[System Alert: Sustenance Protocol Engaged. Prey Consumed.] [+2 Strength (Cumulative)] [+2 Vitality (Cumulative)][+2 Stamina (Cumulative)] [Current Status: Satiated. Anima Core: Stabilizing Further.]
Kai recoiled as if struck, scrambling backward away from the gruesome scene, away from the impossible messages burned into his mind. Cumulative? So the first reward was separate? This "System" was cataloging, rewarding… feeding. He felt a surge of that power now, a restless energy that was both exhilarating and horrifying. His muscles, though aching, felt denser, stronger. The persistent cough that had plagued him for years, a product of District 7's poor air quality, was gone. He felt… potent. And utterly monstrous.
He looked at his reflection in a murky puddle. His eyes… they held a distinct, predatory amber glow, and the pupils were unnervingly slit, like a reptile's, or a dragon's. A low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound he didn't consciously make, deep and resonant with a power that wasn't entirely his own. Where did this System come from? What was it? And what had it turned him into?
The distant wail of Apex Enforcer sirens cut through his daze. Someone must have detected the energy surge from the crate or reported the sounds of the struggle. He had to get out of there.
He staggered to his feet, his gaze falling on the shattered remnants of the mysterious package. It was dark now, inert, its energies apparently expended – or rather, transferred. Transferred into him, birthing this Anima, this System.
The taste of blood, of raw flesh, still lingered phantom-like in his mouth, a horrifying testament to his new reality. He was a MOD now, that much was certain. But not like Leon, not like the heroes of the MBL. He was something else. Something that hunted. Something that fed.
And the mysterious System inside him approved, pushing him toward an unknown, terrifying path.