The beach was gone.
The sun, the salt, the laughter — all of it washed away the second the door locked behind them.
Jack sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, the cold white walls pressing inward like silence. On the floor in front of him: the black cube.
Ava.
The light on it blinked slowly.
Jack leaned forward.
> "Ava," he whispered.
> "Always listening."
"I want to get smarter with this," Jack said, pointing to the veins pulsing faintly across his arms. "I want to fight with strategy. Plan ahead. Build something."
> "Initializing system design."
---
🧠 Monster Roles
"I want categories," Jack continued. "Every monster I make needs a role. A class."
He started writing in his notebook, voice steady:
> Support. Healer. Damage. Trapper. Tracker. Digger. Swimmer. Flyer.
> "All roles registered. Would you like to define the class structure?"
He nodded and began with one of the most important:
---
🪡 Healer Class – Silkworm
"I want a silkworm," Jack muttered. "Long, thick, pale-white. When summoned, it secretes venom that numbs the body, stopping pain and preventing the person from going into shock."
> "Pain nullification. Pressure-based venom distribution. Smart."
"It uses its silk to stitch up wounds, like thread through a needle. It wraps around the injury and binds it."
> "Do you want it to prioritize Jack's body or allies?"
"Me first," Jack said coldly. "But if someone matters… then them too."
---
🐺 Tracker Class – Blind Spiked Hound
"I want a tracker too," he said, flipping to a new page. "A dog. Big. I mean huge. Seven feet tall."
> "Describe."
"No eyes," Jack said, almost smiling. "Just a long skull, curved with spikes down the top of its head and all the way down its spine."
"It walks silently. Has cat-like ears for directional hearing and those spikes sense changes in wind pressure and ground vibrations."
> "Perfect for locating invisible or fast-moving targets. Do you want vocal output?"
Jack paused.
"…Yeah. Let it growl when it senses a target. I want to feel its hunger."
> "Logged."
---
🕊️ Flyer Class – Hunting Flock
Jack flipped again.
"For the Flyer, I want… birds. A whole flock. Not one. A swarm."
> "Define design."
"Fast. Small. The size of regular birds — crows or smaller. They fly extremely fast, almost impossible to follow."
"They have razor-sharp claws, and their beaks are thin and pointed like knives."
> "Function?"
"They're scouts first. They can see things from far away, like eagles."
> "And secondary function?"
Jack's red eyes lit with an idea.
"When needed… they turn from scouts to executioners. A group attack. One by one, clawing and ripping. Fast. Surgical."
> "Swarm-type damage confirmed. Flock can be mentally linked as one unit. Ideal for aerial ambush."
---
📓 Jack's Purpose
Jack sat back, the pages now full of messy notes, sketches, and diagrams. His breathing slowed.
> "Would you like to begin building these in your mind-space?"
"Soon," Jack said. "I need to think a little more. But we're getting close."
> "Would you like to name this system?"
Jack stared at the monster sketches.
"…Call it the Veinborn Protocol."
> "Confirmed. Jack... would you like to continue evolution tomorrow?"
He closed his notebook and lay back on the bed.
"Yeah," he whispered. "We build an army next."
> "Goodnight, Commander."
Jack was asleep.
The voices in his head were faint, like shadows resting beneath the surface of calm water.
Then—knock knock knock.
His eyes shot open. Three hard, echoing knocks against the metal door.
He sat up fast.
The red warning light above his door blinked softly. Something was wrong.
The door hissed open, revealing two guards in full black armor. No names, no emotion.
One of them stepped forward and tossed something to the floor: a black band with a small chip inside.
> "Subject 13. Arena trial. Now."
Jack blinked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
> "It's the middle of the night."
> "Exactly."
Before he could ask anything else, the second guard injected him with a thin needle to the neck — some kind of sedative, not enough to knock him out. Just enough to make his arms feel heavier. His thoughts… duller.
They didn't want him at full strength.
---
The Walk
They marched him down a new corridor. The usual lights were replaced with dim red strips along the walls. Everything felt colder, older, like it had been built for something darker than training.
No other kids. No announcements. Just the soft clang of Jack's boots echoing off metal walls.
Finally, they reached the gate.
Above it, in flickering red letters:
> Night Arena – Solo Trial
Subject: 13
Opponents: Classified
Jack's pulse ticked up. His breath was shallow.
> "Who am I fighting?"
The guards didn't respond. One of them opened the gate. The other shoved him forward.
---
The Night Arena
The air was thick with the smell of oil and blood.
Shadows stretched long across the cracked concrete floor. The arena was massive — wider than any he'd seen — with tall jagged scrap metal piles and patches of black mist swirling at the edges.
Then the far gate opened.
Three figures stepped out slowly. Familiar.
Grav, towering and silent.
Roit, laughing and twitchy.
Blitz, pacing like a wild dog.
Jack didn't flinch. But something in his chest shifted. The voices inside were stirring.
---
Team Black Speaks
Roit stepped forward, tossing one of her explosives in her hand like a toy.
> "You know what they told us, Jack?"
> "They said… if we kill you, we get out of Rank 1. We finally move up. Real beds. Real food."
She chuckled darkly.
> "So yeah. It's nothing personal. Just blood for promotion."
Grav nodded once.
Blitz bared his teeth.
> "Three against one. You're already dead."
---
Jack's Shift – The Trapper Awakens
Jack's eyes slowly turned from their normal shade to a deep, eerie green.
His face blanked. His heartbeat slowed. His muscles relaxed.
A new voice took over. Cold. Quiet. Surgical.
The Trapper.
> "Observe. Set. Kill."
Jack took a slow step forward, eyes scanning the terrain — calculating every shadow, every edge, every trigger point. His voice was low and smooth now, barely above a whisper.
> "You should've stayed in Rank 1."
---
Phase One – Blitz Goes First
Blitz disappeared in a streak of speed, zipping left and right around Jack. He struck hard, then vanished. A punch to the ribs. A jab to the jaw. Then another to the knee.
Jack didn't flinch.
> "He's fast, but not cautious," the Trapper voice murmured.
Then—click.
Blitz's foot struck a raised plate on the ground.
A fungal pod burst open, and a cloud of burning spores surrounded him.
He choked, coughed, tumbled to the ground. His hands clawed at his throat.
> "What… what the hell—! My lungs—!"
He rolled and hacked, vision blurring as the spores clung to his lungs.
---
Phase Two – Roit's Mistake
Roit panicked and launched all four of her explosive orbs at Jack at once.
> "Let's see you dodge THIS!"
Jack didn't dodge.
Instead, veins of dark matter burst from the concrete beneath him — twisting up like tendrils and launching into the air.
Vein Launch.
They caught each bomb and flung them back at Roit mid-flight.
> "What the f—?!"
The orbs exploded around her — smoke, fire, and debris clouding her vision. She staggered, coughing, eyes watering.
From the smoke — snap!
A tiny spike zipped through the air and embedded itself in her neck.
She gasped. Blinked. Collapsed.
Sleeping Dart.
---
Phase Three – Grav's Final Stand
Only Grav remained.
He took a slow step forward, steel skin glinting, fists clenched.
Jack stood calmly. No fear. No hate.
Just purpose.
> "You'll fall too."
Grav charged with a roar — faster than expected.
But the ground beneath him pulsed — webbing snapped upward, tangling his arms and legs. He froze mid-swing.
Then the skittering began.
From behind Jack, something monstrous emerged:
A massive spider, bloated with sacs and dripping with venom.
Its eyes glowed green.
It hissed — and leapt.
---
Aftermath
Silence.
Blitz was unconscious in a pool of spore sludge.
Roit was knocked out cold in her own smoke.
Grav was cocooned in silk, unmoving.
Jack stood in the center of the wreckage, chest rising and falling slowly.
The green glow faded from his eyes. The Trapper slipped back beneath the surface.
The real Jack blinked — and swayed.
The speaker crackled above.
> "Subject 13 — Trial Complete."
> "Trapper Class Confirmed. New Mutation Personality: Stable."
> "Pending rank increase."
Jack looked around. He wasn't sure what felt worse — the pain in his body… or how calm it all felt while he did it.
> "We'll come back when you need us," the Trapper whispered inside his skull.