As his consciousness matured, Bai Chunian gradually regained control over his body. He sat quietly in the incubator, staring down at his hands.
His hands and feet had not fully evolved into humanoid form; in the glass reflection, he looked terrifying, almost monstrous.
He tucked his claws under his chest and abdomen, lying in a daze. The cold, heavy alloy chains and the electric collar around his neck pressed him down, preventing him from raising his head.
He vaguely remembered living through all this before; now, it was as if his memories were replaying, yet he could not fully wake from the tangled mess of consciousness, trapped in fear and trembling, unable to escape through biting or struggling.
The lock of the incubator lifted. A researcher in protective gear bent down, unclasped his restraints, and carried him out, placing him onto a handcart. The collar was secured again as they moved him toward the ecological chamber.
This was Bai Chunian’s first encounter with another experimental subject: a developmental-phase dodder omega, plant-type glands, abilities favoring entanglement and predation.
The childlike face awakened the darkest, filthiest memories in Bai Chunian. The dodder omega had just evolved from an infant, appearing like a three- or four-year-old child. Bai Chunian’s size was similar, but the contest between a beast-class alpha and a non-toxic plant-class omega was utterly one-sided.
Unsure what to do in the ecological chamber, Bai Chunian’s initial fear was diluted by the joy of seeing a peer. He crawled over and curled up beside the dodder omega, seeking comfort.
However, the chamber’s misting tubes were pumping a mania-inducing drug. Stimulated by the substance, both experimental subjects began tearing and tangling with each other. Blood stained the floor.
Bai Chunian no longer remembered where the dodder omega went—he only recalled that it disappeared and that his stomach was full.
The flashback made him cover his mouth in distress as the researcher carried him into the ecological chamber. He dug his claws into the box edge, desperately trying to resist entry.
The dodder omega sat inside, tilting its head and staring blankly at Bai Chunian’s struggling form.
“I’m not going in. Let me go.” Bai Chunian thrashed, his blade-like claws tearing a long gash through the researcher’s protective suit.
The resistance triggered an alarm. Moments later, a team of researchers and security personnel stormed in, restraining Bai Chunian’s limbs and neck with steel forks and injecting sedatives.
He braced with his hands; they instantly hardened like steel. Twisting the forks free, he lunged at the nearest researcher, tearing through the protective suit and shredding the fragile human body within.
Upon touching the researcher’s shoulder, the man was instantly compressed into a blood-red glass orb. All others near him were similarly crushed into black-and-red glass beads, raining down with crackling sounds.
Bai Chunian knew he had lost control but could not stop.
The real Bai Chunian remained unconscious. Lan Bo clamped him in his jaws, holding him with his fishtail as they crawled swiftly through the forest.
Red-throated Bird reinforcements pursued them relentlessly. When news reached M Port of the train shipment being intercepted, more members surged forward, aiming to eliminate the IOA operatives.
They were poorly timed and underestimated their opponents. The attackers swarmed only to be instantly obliterated, reduced to crimson glass beads falling like hail, some shattering, others rolling into crevices.
The m2 ability Bai Chunian unconsciously unleashed while unconscious had exceeded its intended limit. It did not require direct touch or even knowing a name—proximity alone meant death.
Lan Bo, nearest to him, bore the brunt. Holding Bai Chunian, he too was affected, a layer of glass forming on his skin. Some scales were damaged or peeled away, but he was not transformed into glass beads.
Lan Bo clenched Bai Chunian’s collar tightly, enduring the pain silently. He could not cry out; he would not let the little lions be harmed.
Luyan, Bi Lanxing, and Xiao Xun kept a distance, while Han Xingqian stood between them and Bai Chunian. His spiral horn extended a few centimeters, shielding them from the obliteration, though the glass-like residue seeped and solidified from his back as well.
Han Xingqian calmly tore the hardened glass from his back to prevent further corrosion. His skin was stripped in the process, but his healing ability slowly restored the damage.
Xiao Xun quickly supported Han Xingqian, draping his arm over his shoulder and guiding him into a small rocky crevice to shelter and rest.
“Be careful, Han-ge.” He took off his jacket and draped it over Han Xingqian’s back, instinctively releasing a calming pheromone to ease the pain.
Xiao Xun knelt properly beside him, methodically taking bandages from his backpack and tending to the wounds.
Han Xingqian, lost in thought, remained still under the jacket.
At this point, all they could do was contact headquarters to report. Once connected, Yan Yi personally responded.
“Progress going smoothly? How’s Xiao Bai?”
“The shipment’s been intercepted.”
Yan Yi: “That’s good. Send it back to Headquarters Medical Association immediately. There should still be a way to save him. I’ve already ordered Professor Zhong to prepare the equipment ahead of time.”
“They detonated it. All the cargo is destroyed.”
A long silence followed. When Yan Yi finally spoke, his calm tone carried a trace of surprise and tremor: “Destroyed?”
Han Xingqian pressed his fingers to his brow, closing his eyes in resignation. “Xiao Bai was triggered into a rampage, killing indiscriminately. Lan Bo dragged him into the forest.”
“Protect the others. I’m coming myself.”
“Yes, President.”
Xiao Xun moistened gauze with drinking water, cleaned Han Xingqian’s wounds, and applied some hemostatic ointment. After a long hesitation, he gathered courage to ask, “Lan Bo and Instructor Bai… are they different from us? Even at high differentiation levels, their abilities are excessively strong—unlike naturally evolved differentiation abilities.”
Han Xingqian had been pondering how to control Bai Chunian and almost forgot Xiao Xun. He was about to answer when footsteps came from outside the cave.
He assumed it was Lu Yan and Bi Lanxing, but a stranger appeared instead—a messy-haired omega peeking inside, antennae like butterflies twitching atop his head, eyes squinting as he smiled: “Excuse me, where’s Bai Chunian? I lost track of him.”
Xiao Xun stood alert, lifting his sniper rifle and activating the J1 universal dashboard to assess the stranger’s intentions.
Domino waved repeatedly, smiling. “Hey, little one, call your guardian out to speak.”
“I’m the one,” Han Xingqian replied.
Domino extended a hand. “Experimental Subject 2412, Golden Flash, gland prototype: Solar Flash Butterfly. You may call me Domino.”
Han Xingqian hadn’t expected him to admit his identity so openly. He stared calmly and asked, “What do you want?”
“I heard there’s a golden cocoon nearby. I came to M Port to help. I was going to heal the Enforcer, but the Electro-Phantom snatched him away, running so fast I lost track.”
“Don’t waste time. The Enforcer has already been pushed toward deterioration. Soon, you’ll have a super beast,” Domino said, exaggerating with tiptoe gestures. “Huge—one bite could flip a helicopter. Anyone near him turns into glass beads.”
Bai Chunian was a level-9 mature subject. Compared to other experimental subjects, his abilities were stronger but more prone to deterioration; strong stimulation could even skew his evolutionary trajectory.
Han Xingqian pressed against his wounds, standing. “What do you want to do?”
“My M2 ability—Butterfly Illusion—is a transport-class skill. I can manipulate events within consciousness, either saving or destroying someone at will,” Domino said with a sly squint. “Honestly, his deterioration benefits us too, but now isn’t the time to sacrifice the Enforcer. Only I can save him.”
Xiao Xun stiffened. In Domino’s omega data, the last entry read: Level: 6. This, along with consumption rate, marked the subject’s status.
He had learned a little about experimental subjects: consumption indicated the development from the nurturing phase toward maturity, while level represented the strength of a mature subject. The data made sense.
Domino suddenly looked at him, lifting Xiao Xun’s chin with his antennae. “What are you afraid of? We were created by you. I have no shame in my existence. I even wrote it down for you to see.”
Xiao Xun nervously brushed the antennae off his skin, but as soon as he touched Domino, the omega’s body dissolved into a swirl of golden mist.
The mist reformed elsewhere into Domino, holding a crimson-winged butterfly on his fingertip. On its wings, golden data flowed—memories plucked from Xiao Xun’s mind.
“Oh, thanks for the directions. I’ll be off.”
Domino unfurled golden-red butterfly wings and vanished from the cave, leaving a scattering of shimmering gold dust.
Bai Chunian had been dragged deep into the valley forest by Lan Bo. A layer of glass-like coating covered Lan Bo’s body, and each movement tore away patches of dark-blue scales, exposing tender red flesh.
Bai Chunian lay on the ground as Lan Bo coiled around him, incessantly kissing and stroking his hair.
Still asleep, his mind entangled in chaotic memories, Bai Chunian unleashed annihilation to twist and crush any approaching researchers into glass beads, yet an endless tide of attackers pressed on, stabbing him with steel forks and pinning him into a pool of blood.
A crimson butterfly flew in from the open lab door, landing above Bai Chunian.
A surge of water followed, flooding the lab and sweeping everyone away. Cold water filled his nose, the suffocating helplessness dragging him toward the floor.
The chaotic noise faded, replaced by a strange, lingering hum that soothed him.
Underwater, a pair of arms caught him. Instinctively, he clung tightly, the oxygen mixed with the scent of White Spiraea allowing him to breathe again.
“Randi.”
The deep-blue merman swam upward, holding the still-immature little creature in his arms, infusing calming pheromones into every bone.
The small boy clutched the only body that gave him safety, curling with quiet whimpers.
Lan Bo stroked his soft hair, pressing his head against his chest as they rose to the water’s surface.
Bai Chunian clutched Lan Bo’s arm tightly, his sharp nails scratching the skin, and stammered, “Are… you going to kill me?”
“No.”
“It hurts…” Bai Chunian buried his face against Lan Bo’s neck, pleading, “Save me.”
Lan Bo gently patted his back. “There, there.”
The immense comfort calmed Bai Chunian. He rested his head against Lan Bo’s nape, his young bones beginning to stretch, his sharp claws evolving into fully jointed fingers. His legs grew long and straight, his white hair tinged with black, and even the bone structure of his face gradually perfected toward something beyond human.
Lan Bo whispered in his ear, a gentle, magnetic voice laced with affection:
“Siren blasyi kimo, fanshi, tlanfi, haosy, claya siren milen.”
(May the Siren grant you beauty, talent, health, and the ability to hear divine guidance.)