Somewhere underground...
Dr. Kellen's breaths came in rapid, panicked gasps.
His shoes pounded against polished white tiles as he sprinted through a dim hallway, clutching a black briefcase like his life depended on it. Overhead lights flickered violently—buzzing—then popped, one by one, plunging the corridor into an ominous red glow.
"Warning. Containment breach. Protocol: Hollowborn."
The robotic voice echoed from the intercom, repeating like a heartbeat.
"No... not this... not now," Kellen muttered. Sweat streamed down his forehead, fogging up his glasses.
His coat snagged on the corner of a railing and tore. He didn't stop.
Behind him—nothing.
And that's what terrified him most.
No footsteps. No breathing. Just silence.
But he could feel it.
The trembling floor. The metallic taste of dread thick on his tongue.
He rounded a corner—and froze.
A scientist lay slumped against the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. Deep claw marks raked across the metal door beside the body.
Kellen backed away, trembling.
"No, no, no..."
A soft, wet clicking echoed from the corridor behind him.
Then—a shadow peeled itself from the wall.
His scream was brief.
The briefcase hit the ground with a dull thud. The lights buzzed once more... then silence.
From the far end of the hall, a soft hum began to rise—digital, rhythmic, unnatural.
A faint shimmer hovered above the briefcase.
Then it faded into darkness.
Later. Somewhere else. The city of Monridge.
The scent of stir-fry, sesame oil, and dish soap filled the cramped interior of Steele's Bite, a small corner restaurant tucked into an alley near the train station. A cracked bell above the door jingled every time it opened, though it never quite hung straight.
Inside, the air was thick with the sizzle of food and the warmth of home.
"Alex, ginger!" came a voice from the kitchen.
"On it!" Alex shouted, grabbing a ceramic bowl of chopped ginger and darting into the back.
He was seventeen, with dark, messy hair that refused to stay flat and eyes that always looked like they were thinking about something else.
His mom, Mei Steele, mid-thirties, hair tied back in a ponytail, worked the wok with practiced skill. Her apron was stained, but her spirit never looked tired.
"How's the front?" she asked without looking up.
"Dead. Just the early birds. And Mr. Takeda ranting again—something about garlic being the key to immortality."
Mei smirked. "He's not entirely wrong."
Alex watched her for a second. Tired eyes, faded smile—but tough as ever.
Since Dad vanished five years ago, it'd just been the two of them.
"Hey, Mom?" he said quietly.
She paused, glanced at him.
"I'm fine," she said before he could finish. "You worry too much."
"I just—"
The bell jingled.
Two boys entered.
Darren and Blake.
Alex saw them through the kitchen window and his stomach dropped.
"Great," he muttered.
"What?" Mei asked, reaching for a jar on the shelf.
"Nothing. Takeda again," Alex said quickly and left the kitchen.
Mei gave him a suspicious look but got distracted as a cup of salt tumbled from the shelf.
Out front, Alex stepped up to the counter, calm but clearly annoyed.
"What do you want, Darren? Blake?" he asked.
Darren and Blake—classmates and notorious bullies. Ever since that incident got them humiliated in the cafeteria—an accident, really—they'd been on Alex's back every chance they got.
And now they'd found the restaurant.
"Well, well," Darren said, strolling up to the counter like he owned the place. "Didn't know you worked here. Cute apron."
Blake snorted. "More like grease monkey."
Alex sighed and wiped his hands. "Kitchen's closed for clowns. Menu's outside."
Darren grinned. "Real funny. Acting tough with Mommy nearby?"
Mei peeked from the kitchen, eyes narrowing.
"Can I help you boys?" she asked, voice cool and steady.
"We're just saying hi," Darren said with mock sweetness.
"I think you've said enough. Either order something or get out," she said flatly, then returned to the kitchen.
Alex grabbed a tray, ready to take it to a table when Blake shoved him from behind.
"Aww, hiding behind your mommy again?"
Alex stumbled, almost dropping the tray but caught himself.
He saw his mom watching. Customers turning their heads.
These guys had the nerve to pull this crap in her restaurant.
He clenched his jaw. Not anger. Resolve.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's give the customers a show."
Darren and Blake plopped onto stools, snickering.
Alex walked to the counter, returned with a plate of wobbly, questionable leftovers—and slid it hard across the counter.
It smacked onto Darren's jeans. Sauce splattered everywhere.
Silence.
Then a chuckle from the back.
Even Mei cracked a smirk.
Blake reached for a napkin but slipped on a stray ice cube and crashed into the mop bucket.
Laughter erupted.
Alex kept a straight face.
Darren's cheeks flushed red. He stood up, seething.
"This isn't over," he hissed.
"No," Alex said dryly. "It's just dinner time."
They stormed out.
Mei joined him and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"I know I always say don't provoke people... but that was very satisfying."
Alex grinned, but worry crept in. Trouble was definitely on the way.
That night...
The streets were quieter than usual.
The restaurant was about to close.
Alex zipped his hoodie and tightened his backpack straps.
"You leaving already?" Mei asked.
"Yeah."
"I could drive you—"
"It's fine, Mom. I'm close. I'll walk."
As he stepped outside, the bell jingled faintly behind him. He felt... off. Not afraid, just uneasy.
He cut through the alley shortcut. The city lights above flickered. Steam hissed from a manhole.
Then—
"Well, well…"
Darren and Blake again.
Alex turned, heart sinking—but not surprised.
"Thought you'd strut home like a hero?" Darren sneered, a pipe hanging in his hand.
"Guys, c'mon…" Alex took a step back, but they boxed him in.
"You think making us look like idiots is gonna fly?"
"No, I—"
Blake shoved him. Alex fell hard.
"Guys, stop—" he tried to rise, but Darren punched him in the gut. He crumpled.
Blake landed a couple kicks. "Still funny, huh?"
Alex grunted, crawling to escape.
Darren swung the pipe and hit him across the face. Blood trickled down Alex's forehead.
Darren grabbed his shirt, lifted him up, and slammed him into the alley wall.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Alex croaked.
Blake smirked beside Darren.
"Next time, maybe you'll—"
Then—they heard it.
A low, gurgling growl. Wet. Inhuman.
All three froze.
Behind the dumpster, red light flickered. A shape emerged—crawling like a spider.
Pale, dislocated limbs. Hollow eyes. Like a corrupted video game character come to life, only worse. So much worse.
"What the—" Darren's voice broke.
Blake stared, paralyzed.
Alex's breath caught.
The creature looked at them, crouched—and lunged.
Alex ducked. Blake screamed and bolted. Darren followed, stumbling.
The creature turned to Alex.
His legs wouldn't move. He tripped over a crate. Fell.
It loomed over him, jaw unhinging impossibly wide—
A brilliant flash of blue light exploded.
A girl landed mid-air with a burst of power.
Alex stared, slack-jawed.
She had medium-brown hair, a glowing tech-lined bodysuit, and sunglasses. She flicked her hand, and a digital panel appeared midair.
[TARGET LOCKED. SYNCING.]
She swiped. Glowing code whipped around the creature, binding it.
With a fluid spin, she summoned twin blades of light and slashed in elegant, deadly arcs.
The creature shrieked, shuddered—then dissolved into glittering particles.
In the distance, a portal flickered open. Something clattered out—a strange, handheld console, pulsing faintly.
The girl lowered her blades. "Too easy."
Then she looked at Alex.
"You okay?"
Alex blinked. Looked at her—really looked.
She was different. Stunning, yes—but... not quite human.
Still, something stirred in his chest.
"I... I think so," he muttered.
She offered her hand.
He took it, rising unsteadily.
Then his eyes fell on the device on the ground.
Before he could ask anything—she was gone.
Vanished.
He turned, checked both ends of the alley—empty.
The pain in his forehead flared again.
He sighed—and spotted the console.
It pulsed, softly humming.
He picked it up, glancing around, uneasy.
"What is this? What was that thing? What the hell just happened?"
He stopped walking. Held the console up.
It flickered to life.
Alex yelped, dropping it.
It hovered.
[SYSTEM BOOTING…]
[USER IDENTIFIED: ALEX STEELE]
[WELCOME TO GENESIS]
Alex stared.
Blood dripped past his eyebrow. He wiped it with his sleeve.
And deep inside—something stirred.