Lucian's eyes flew open in horror.
He staggered out of his hospital bed, legs trembling beneath him, his mind spinning with the nurse's words—words that clung to him like a cruel echo:
"Dr. Jane didn't make it. She died in the accident."
The scream built in his throat as he stumbled down the corridor, each step a desperate lurch toward the ward where Jane's body lay.
As he turned the corner, he froze.
Two hospital staff were wheeling a stretcher out of the room, a white sheet drawn over a lifeless form.
Lucian's heart sank. It felt like drowning—like the world had emptied itself of air.
He reached out, hand trembling, as though touching the sheet might somehow undo the truth beneath it.
"Jane…"
His voice cracked, a fragile whisper. "No… this can't be happening."
The staff paused, their faces etched with sympathy. One of the nurses gently stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on his arm.
"Mr. Lucian," she said softly, "please… you need to rest. You've been through so much."
But Lucian shook his head, eyes locked on the shrouded form.
"I need to see her," he murmured, barely audible.
The nurse hesitated, then gave a slow nod.
"Okay. But please—prepare yourself."
Lucian nodded, a hollow motion of grief.
With practiced care, the nurse peeled back the sheet.
Jane's face emerged—pale, still, and heartbreakingly serene. Lucian's breath caught in his chest.
He reached out and touched her cheek with trembling fingers, cold beneath his touch.
"Jane," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. I should've protected you. I should've saved you."
The staff stood back, giving him space, their expressions grave.
They understood: this wasn't just the loss of a colleague.
This was the loss of a love—deep, soul-tethered, and now, forever severed.
Lucian stepped out of the cab, his body still sore, his mind far worse. The apartment loomed ahead—familiar walls now cloaked in uncertainty. He paid the driver without a word and climbed the stairs, each footstep echoing louder than it should have.
Inside, the silence pressed in like fog. He dropped his keys on the table and sat heavily at his desk, the laptop blinking to life as he powered it on. His fingers trembled slightly as they hovered above the keyboard.
He typed:
"Mutation. Supernatural abilities. Energy in the body after trauma."
Dozens of links appeared. Articles. Forums. Government redacted files. Fringe science blogs that bordered on madness. But Lucian scrolled, desperate for answers—anything that might explain what was happening to him.
Yet no words on the screen could quiet the storm inside his head.
Jane.
Her name whispered through his thoughts like a ghost.
Her pale face beneath the sheet.
The guilt. The weight. The accident.
And the energy—whatever it was. It hadn't left him.
He snapped back to the screen, trying to focus. But then—
A tingle.
Lucian paused.
A strange warmth stirred in his fingertips.
He looked down.
A soft blue light was blooming from beneath his skin. At first, it was faint—just a flicker—but then it grew, like a flame fed by invisible air.
His breath caught.
The glow spread, crawling along the contours of his fingers like liquid electricity. It danced in the darkness, reflecting off the laptop screen, painting his face in shades of blue.
"What… the hell?" he whispered.
A hum filled the air—not from the machine, but from within him.
Energy. Alive. Vibrating through his veins like static waiting to snap.
Lucian stood up sharply, his chair scraping against the floor, eyes fixed on his hands.
Were they still his?
The light pulsed—once, then again—each time brighter.
His heart raced. Panic crept in.
Was he becoming something else? Was this the reason Jane died? Was he the cause?
The blue light surged—brighter, blinding—and then, in an instant,
the apartment went dark.
The laptop screen blacked out. The overhead light fizzled. The hum of electricity vanished.
Only the soft, dying glow of Lucian's hands remained—like embers after a storm.
One final pulse.
And then… nothing.
Lucian stood alone in the dark, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. His heart thundered like a war drum.
What was happening to him?
And worse—
What would happen next?