The dim, artificial lighting buzzed faintly overhead, flickering in and out as if it, too, sensed the shift in the air.

And in the center of it all-

Yazmina breathed.

For the first time in seven years, the stagnant stillness in her chest broke. A sharp, ragged inhale tore through her lungs, her body trembling with the force of it.

The cold air burned as it rushed down her throat, searing through the emptiness that had consumed her for so long.

Her body felt heavy, like she had been submerged in tar, her limbs sluggish and foreign. It was as if she had forgotten how to move, how to be.

Her vision was hazy, the world around her swimming in and out of focus. Darkness still clung to the edges of her mind, whispering, pulling, trying to drag her back under.

But something inside her resisted.

Something was different.

Her eyes flickered, adjusting to the dim light. At first, everything was wrong-blurry, distorted, shifting between shadow and clarity.

Her mind flashes to distant memories she didn't know.

And then she remembered a voice.

Dripping with something she couldn't quite grasp.

"You were made for this, Yazmina."

The words slithered through the darkness of her mind, curling around her consciousness like vines. She couldn't see the speaker. Couldn't place where she had heard it before.

Only the whispers remained.

"You were always meant to become this."

Then-flashes.

A dimly lit room. The scent of iron thick in the air.

Her own hands-drenched in blood.

A pair of scissors, their silver edges glinting under the light. The crimson droplets sliding down the blades.

Then-blackened.

Her eyes twitched.

Blinding light seared into her vision, but something was wrong.

The world around her was unfamiliar.

Had she been sleeping?

For how long?

She tried to think, but her mind was like shattered glass-fragments of memories scattered, sharp yet incomplete.

Her name...

She knew her name.

Yazmina.

Yes. That was right.

But beyond that...

Nothing.

The past was a blur, slipping through her fingers like sand.

She struggled to move, her body sluggish, foreign. A strange pressure built in her chest, spreading through her limbs like liquid fire.

Then-another sensation.

Something crawling beneath her skin.

She gasped, sitting up suddenly, her breath hitching. Her nails dug into the sheets, a tremor running through her spine.

Something was wrong.

Her heart pounded erratically, a strange weight pressing against her back.

Something was moving.

Something was trying to come out.

A sharp pain tore through her, and she let out a strangled cry as something burst from her back.

Long. Heavy. Sinister.

Nine large, segmented tails stretched out behind her, gleaming black with a faint metallic sheen. Their barbed tips twitched, shifting like living creatures of their own.

She gasped for breath, her entire body trembling.

Her right arm ached. She glanced down-black veins slithered up her pale skin, twisting like ink spreading through water.

But her left arm remained untouched. Flawless.

Her reflection glimmered in the metal wall before her.

She was still human.

Still beautiful.

But now-something more. Something eerily striking.

Her red eyes glowed brighter, her pupils now slit like a cat's.

She looked like a nightmare.

And yet...

She couldn't bring herself to be afraid.

Because deep down-

It felt right.

---

Harley Sawyer's screen flickered as he examined the latest vial of Yazmina's blood under the microscope.

Seven years.

Seven years of testing. Of experimenting.

And still, no real answers.

Her blood was unlike anything he had ever seen. It defied logic, shifting between states that no organic matter should be capable of. Even in isolation, it pulsed faintly, as if something within it was still alive.

Harley leaned back, his single eye twitching. This was useless. The Prototype had given him nothing to work with.

Then-

BOOM.

A deep, earth-shaking explosion echoed through the factory.

Harley's head snapped up.

That came from her chamber.

Without hesitation, he stormed out of the lab, his metal feet clanking against the floor. The factory trembled around him, dust falling from the ceiling as the alarms blared.

By the time he reached the chamber-

The room was in ruins.

A massive hole gaped in the floor, leading into the deeper, untouched layers of the factory.

And Yazmina-

She was gone.

Harley's screen flickered with static. His hands clenched into fists.

She had awoken.

And she had vanished into the depths.

A mechanical hum reverberated through the ruined chamber, followed by the distant wail of alarms echoing through the facility.

Harley Sawyer's screen flickered, static crackling across its surface as he stared into the abyss below.

She had broken out.

Harley tilted his head, his single eye narrowing.

"She can't make a hole like that if she's still human."

He turned sharply, his voice a low, mechanical command through the intercom.

"Deploy the others. Now."

Across the factory, heavy metal footsteps activated in unison.

They were like him-tall, humanoid machines, each one adorned with a glowing screen for a head. Cold, precise, obedient.

"Find her. Immediately."

A chorus of acknowledgments crackled through the speakers as his mechanical bodies dispersed, branching into every possible escape route.

Harley wasted no time. He pivoted, switching to the CCTV feeds across the factory.

His eye darted between screens, scanning through the facility in rapid succession.

Flickering cameras revealed long-forgotten hallways, rusted doors creaking open from the shockwave of her escape. Dust and debris drifted in the stale air.

And then-

There.

A flash of movement.

A dark figure moving erratically through the lower levels, shifting between shadows.

It was her.

---

Deep Below

Yazmina ran.

Or rather, she moved.

Her body felt foreign-like it was acting without her input, her mind struggling to keep up.

Her feet barely touched the ground before she was leaping again, propelled forward by something alien.

Something behind her.

She didn't need to turn to know. She could feel them-nine heavy, segmented scorpion tails curling and lashing out with each movement.

The metallic black exoskeleton gleamed even in the darkness, the ridged texture shifting with every precise motion. They were an extension of her, twisting and stabbing into walls, hooking onto ledges, dragging her forward when her legs faltered.

She was using them to move, to control her momentum-pulling herself up, launching herself forward, pivoting mid-air.

But she wasn't thinking.

Her body was moving on instinct.

Because she wasn't running in the way a human did.

She was hunting for safety.

But she didn't know where she was going.

Her mind was a shattered blur.

Memories flashed-

A searing gunshot. The sharp crack of a bullet tearing through her flesh.

Then-blood.

Dripping down trembling fingers.

Dripping onto silver scissors.

Then-nothing.

Her thoughts were fragmented, her past slipping through her fingers like smoke.

What was happening to her?

Why couldn't she remember?

She pressed a shaking hand to her temple, trying to force clarity, but the static in her mind only grew louder.

Keep moving.

The whisper wasn't her own.

And yet-she obeyed.

Her scorpion tails struck the ground, vaulting her forward again. She didn't stop to think.

She only knew one thing:

She had to get away before something found her.

---

Harley's gaze remained fixed on the screens, watching as Yazmina moved deeper into the factory's untouched layers.

She was fast.

Too fast for a human.

A sharp, flickering glow pulsed within Harley's singular eye, the screen crackling with static as he locked onto her location.

"There you are."

He turned to his enforcers, already disappearing into the corridors.