One year had passed.
Ethan stood on the edge of a ruined highway, gazing at the desolate landscape before him. The world had not changed, but he had. His body was no longer the same—it had become something else entirely. Stronger. Faster. More resilient than any human had the right to be.
The transformation had begun out of desperation. When he fell into that military outpost, shattered and broken, he had barely survived. The wounds he suffered at the hands of the Level 3 mutant had pushed his body past its limits. Medical supplies were scarce, food was even scarcer, and the nearest convenience store was miles away. He had no choice.
He had to eat.
The first bite had been the hardest. The mutant flesh was rancid, its texture rubbery and wrong, but the hunger was stronger than the disgust. He forced himself to chew, swallow, and endure. What he hadn't expected was the effect it would have on him.
Days turned into weeks, then months. His body, once on the verge of collapse, became something else entirely. The more mutant flesh he consumed, the more his body adapted. His muscles grew denser, his bones tougher. His reflexes sharpened, his speed increased, and his endurance became nearly limitless. He healed at an unnatural rate. Wounds that should have taken months to mend closed in days. Scars faded, strength surged, and with it, a new hunger began to stir within him.
He had become something more than human. And yet, he still clung to his mind. To his will. To his name.
Ethan.
A new world awaited him, and this time, he wouldn't just survive.
He would dominate.
The First Hunt
His boots crunched against the cracked pavement as he descended into the remnants of an abandoned city. One year ago, he would have been cautious, creeping through the ruins with his weapons at the ready. Now, he moved with confidence, his senses heightened, his instincts razor-sharp. He no longer needed to fear the mutants.
They needed to fear him.
A group of runners—Level 2 mutants—screeched as they spotted him from a distance. They moved fast, their elongated limbs propelling them forward with inhuman speed. Before, they would have been a death sentence. Now, they were merely prey.
Ethan inhaled deeply, feeling the energy coiling in his muscles. Then he moved.
In an instant, he closed the distance, his speed matching theirs. One of the runners lunged, claws outstretched—he ducked, grabbed its arm, and twisted. The sickening snap of bone echoed through the street as he wrenched its limb clean off. Another pounced from the side—Ethan pivoted and drove his fist through its chest, crushing its ribcage with sheer force.
The last one hesitated, its instincts warning it that something was wrong. But it was too late. Ethan lunged, grabbing the creature's skull in both hands and twisting violently. The head separated from the body, black blood splattering the ground.
It was over in seconds.
He exhaled slowly, watching as the corpses twitched in their final moments. The hunger stirred again, but he ignored it. He didn't need to eat—yet.
He wiped the blood from his hands and continued forward.
The Next Step
One year had passed since his fall.
One year had passed since he had been broken.
Now, Ethan was reborn.
And it was time to see just how far he could go.