Harley Sawyer wasted no time.

The moment he locked onto Yazmina’s location, his consciousness surged through the factory’s network, abandoning his current body.

Somewhere nearby, another unit activated.

Metal limbs stilled, the screen of his former form flickering into darkness as he transferred.

A sharp hum filled the air as a new body whirred to life. A heavier frame, built for durability. A cold, metal hand curled around the handle of a loaded tranquilizer.

He had no intention of letting her escape.

The glowing eye on his screen head flickered—locked onto its target.

Then, he moved.

---

Yazmina ran.

Or rather—she moved.

It wasn’t the frantic, desperate flight of prey.

It was something otherworldly.

Something beautiful.

Her body barely touched the ground before she was airborne again, her every motion fluid yet unnervingly sharp. Her nine segmented tails—long, gleaming black with a faint metallic sheen—lashed out like extensions of her will, piercing the walls, gripping ledges, pulling her forward with lethal grace.

Her beauty was sculpted from both nightmare and allure.

Skin still pale and flawless, shimmered beneath the dim industrial light, the sharp contrast between human softness and inhuman terror making her all the more mesmerizing.

Yazmina’s breath was ragged, her body moving on sheer instinct.

Her surroundings were a blur—rusted walls, cracked floors, the dim, suffocating darkness of the factory’s lower levels. But she didn’t care.

She didn’t know why she was running.

Only that she had to.

The weight of her own body was unfamiliar. Alien. Her movements weren’t her own—too fast, too precise. Her scorpion tails lashed out with every motion, embedding themselves into the floor and walls to pull her forward, her entire body propelling through the corridors like a beast hunting for prey.

But she wasn’t hunting.

She was escaping.

From what?

From who?

And then—

"STOP."

A deep, commanding voice.

Yazmina froze.

Her feet skidded against the metal floor, her tails instinctively slamming down to steady her—cracking the ground beneath her.

Tails reacting violently—barbed tips striking into the steel beneath her, creating a deep, resonating crack. Dust and debris trembled from the impact.

Slowly, she turned.

Her glowing red eyes locked onto the source of the voice.

There, standing at the end of the corridor, was something that shouldn’t exist.

A tall, imposing figure.

Metal limbs. A long, pristine white lab coat.

And where a head should be—

A screen.

A single, glowing eye flickered across its surface, locked onto her with unwavering precision.

Yazmina’s breath caught.

She didn’t know him.

And yet—

That voice.

It felt like a drill boring into her skull, unearthing something that had been buried deep within her fractured mind.

A memory.

"Watch where you’re going.”

"Head of Special Projects. And you must be Dr. Yazmina. The elusive scientist who never leaves the lab"

"You wound me, Doctor. I was hoping for a more… pleasant introduction.”

The main entrance.

She remembered the sharp static crackle of his voice. The mechanical indifference behind it.

A sharp sting.

Her vision blurred. Fragments of the past flooded her mind in rapid succession—moments she couldn't fully grasp.

Her body trembled.

Something inside her resisted.

She was supposed to run.

But her body—her tails—

They refused.

Her scorpion tails thrashed violently, digging into the floor, sending deeper fractures across the metal plating.

The ground beneath her groaned in protest.

Her chest tightened.

Why was he here?

What was happening?

Her own voice screaming. The sound of a gunshot.

Pain.

Yazmina flinched violently. Her inhumanly red eyes flickered with something raw.

Fear?

No.

Something darker.

Her scorpion tails lashed, their barbed tips carving deep grooves into the floor as her body trembled.

The ground beneath her groaned.

She was losing control.

Harley’s single eye narrowed.

He had seen unstable test subjects before.

But this—

She was different.

His grip tightened around the tranquilizer gun.

With precise aim, he fired.

A sharp hiss—

The dart embedded itself into her side.

Pain.

Another gunshot.

A burning sensation tearing through her flesh.

Yazmina’s entire world cracked.

Her breathing became erratic, her pupils dilating as the past collided violently with the present. The sensation was the same—too similar to when she had been shot before.

Her lips parted, trembling.

This was—

This was just like before.

Something inside her snapped.

A sharp, piercing shriek tore from her throat.

And then—

She moved.

It was not wild.

It was lethal.

Terrifying but Beautiful.

Her body lunged forward, tails slamming into the walls, ripping apart the corridor with raw, monstrous strength.

Harley barely had time to react.

"Restrain her."

His command echoed through the network.

From the shadows, more mechanical bodies surged forward.

Harley’s enforcers—each one identical to him, with the same cold, glowing eye. They moved in unison, lunging at her, metal limbs outstretched to subdue—

But they weren’t fast enough.

Yazmina was a blur, her body twisting, her tails lashing out like whips.

One of her tails lashed forward, impaling an enforcer straight through the chest. Another whipped across the air, sending a second body crashing into the walls.

Sparks erupted as bodies shattered against the force of her strength.

Her hair cascaded in a storm of silver silk, catching in the air as she twisted, her movements both inhuman and mesmerizing.

Harley’s screen flickered.

She was too strong.

Too fast.

He fired again.

The tranquilizer hit.

She barely reacted.

Her slit pupils dilated, her red eyes glowing like molten fire, so striking it was almost hypnotic.

Harley’s eye twitched.

He needed more force.

Then—

A massive shadow loomed behind her.

A figure, towering, monstrous in size.

It moved fast—far faster than something its size should have been capable of.

Its twisted, towering silhouette loomed over them both, its presence almost imperceptible in the chaos.

Harley’s singular eye flickered toward it.

And in that instant—

A massive mechanical needle-like hand reached out—

But Yazmina didn’t notice.

She was still spiraling.

Still thrashing.

Her tails lashed wildly—

Until the Prototype moved.

It reached out—

And with unnatural precision, it caught her.

Firmly.

Gently.

Yazmina gasped sharply, her body twisting violently against its hold, but the Prototype did not let go.

Her breath hitched, her lips trembling.

Her lashes fluttered.

Her beautiful, blood-red eyes flickered one last time.

The tranquilizers were finally taking effect.

Her scorpion tails—once wild and uncontrollable—began to retract.

Segment by segment, they pulled back into her spine.

Until she was human again.

Until she was still.

Harley watched, silent.

Then—

She collapsed.

Her body went limp in the Prototype’s grasp.

Her hair fell over her face in waves of white, cascading like silk onto the metal floor.

The Prototype slowly lifted her.

Its massive hands, grotesque yet eerily gentle, curled around her delicate frame.

Yazmina’s breathing was shallow, her lashes fluttering faintly. The tranquilizers had finally won—but even in unconsciousness, she looked otherworldly.

Her soft lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling in slow, uneven intervals. Strands of silver silk clung to her face, damp with sweat, framing her fragile yet unnervingly inhuman beauty.

Harley’s screen flickered with static.

This had been too close.

Too dangerous.

But now—

He had confirmation.

Yazmina was no longer fully human.