Project I (2)
The boy's transformation over time had been nothing short of remarkable.
His strength grew exponentially, nearly rivaling the finest athletes, his stamina was seemingly limitless, and his body healed from wounds that would cripple an ordinary person.
Akshat had seen this in the tests, had measured every increment of improvement, and yet… none of that was what intrigued him the most.
It was the hatred.
The silent, simmering hatred that the boy held for him.
Akshat was no fool—he knew exactly why the boy hated him.
The boy had endured hellish suffering at his hands: the experiments, the pain, the isolation.
And Akshat, cold and methodical, made no attempts to mend that wound.
He didn't care, his hyperfixation already beyond what would call healthy.
This was science—progress at any cost.
The boy was just another subject, another number in the file to him.
Despite knowing his crimes Akshat had made himself deluded to believe his decision to continue was correct.
But what intrigued Akshat most was whether that hatred would ever overcome the boy's conditioning.
It was late in the evening when it happened.
The boy had been sparring, testing his new limits, when Akshat, for the first time in a while, stepped out of the observation room.
He wanted to see up close just how far the boy had come. Perhaps it was hubris. Perhaps it was curiosity. Perhaps it was both.
The boy's eyes locked onto him immediately, and Akshat felt something shift in the air.
There was a sharpness in the boy's gaze—a clarity of purpose.
And then the boy moved.
Faster than Akshat had anticipated, faster than any human had a right to be. Before he could react, the boy's fist slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Akshat staggered back.
The boy's face twisted into something primal, his eyes glowing a bright, furious red.
Another strike followed, then another, each one landing with terrifying force.
Akshat felt his ribs crack, the pain blinding as the boy's enhanced strength battered him mercilessly.
He tried to defend himself, but it was useless.
The boy was stronger, faster, and more durable than him.
The guards moved to intervene, but Akshat raised a bloodied hand to stop them.
He didn't want them to interfere. Not yet.
He needed to see it. He needed to know how far the boy would go.
The boy's hands found his throat, squeezing with a strength that sent slight panic racing through Akshat's mind.
He could feel the life being choked out of him, his vision blurring, his thoughts growing sluggish.
The boy's face was inches from his own, those flickering red eyes burning with hatred.
Akshat gasped for breath, feeling his body break under the pressure.
This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for. The moment the boy would decide whether to kill him.
And then, suddenly, something shifted.
The boy's grip loosened, just for a fraction of a second, as his body stiffened.
Akshat felt the electrical inhibitors inside the boy's brain activate, sending a surge of agonizing pain through his nervous system.
The boy's expression twisted, not in anger, but in torment as the neural implants flared.
His hands shook violently as he tried to keep his grip on Akshat's throat, but the pain was too much.
Akshat, gasping for breath, managed to pry the boy's hands away, pushing him back.
The boy staggered, clutching his head in pain, his eyes still burning with that unnatural red glow.
He roared in agony, a guttural sound that echoed through the room, but he didn't move to attack again.
Akshat straightened up, every part of his body aching, blood trickling from his mouth.
His breath came in ragged gasps, but he smiled.
He had pushed the boy past his limits, past the conditioning, past the fear. The boy had almost killed him. Almost.
But the inhibitors had done their job. They had stopped him—barely.
"You could have done it, I'm happy " Akshat rasped, his voice hoarse, he didn't want to create a mindless weapon.
The boy, still clutching his head, glared at him with pure, undiluted hatred.
He didn't speak, but his eyes said everything.
He wanted Akshat dead. He wanted revenge for everything Akshat had put him through.
Akshat, however, simply smiled wider. "You'll have your chance again. I'm sure of it. But not today."
The boy slumped to the floor, his body shaking from the aftereffects of the inhibitors.
The guards, finally stepping forward, dragged him away, though Akshat could still feel the boy's eyes on him—burning, hateful, and waiting for the next opportunity.
As they hauled the boy back to his cell, Akshat leaned against the wall, wiping the blood from his face.
He knew the boy wouldn't try again.
After all he wouldn't live long.
---
Akshat stood in front of the machine, its metallic surface gleaming under the cold fluorescent lights of the lab.
The hum of the equipment was the only sound that filled the room, punctuated by the occasional drip of liquids from the vials hanging above.
He looked down at the empty cradle, its curved surface lined with complex mechanisms, wires, and needles. The design was his own—a hybrid of science and madness.
He spoke aloud, his voice breaking the silence.
"The boy was a step forward," he muttered, pacing slowly around the machine. "A leap, even. He could have been unstoppable, but... he burned out too quickly. The power consumed him." Akshat paused, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he could massage the thoughts into coherence.
"No, he consumed the power, like a starving beast, until there was nothing left for his body to sustain itself. A fault in his biology... no, a fault in my design."
His gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing as he turned back to the machine.
He lifted one of the vials, swirling the purple liquid inside before slotting it into its place.
"Fuel. He lacked fuel," he continued, his tone growing more resolute as he spoke to himself.
"The energy necessary to evolve, to sustain that level of transformation—it all broke down too soon. And the gene strain… too impure. The compatibility wasn't there. The serum was pushing against a wall that his body didn't have the quality to break through. He had resilience, yes. But resilience isn't enough."
Akshat let out a breath, lowering himself into the cradle, the metal cold against his skin.
He stretched out his arms, allowing the straps to bind him down, his fingers gripping the armrests.
"But this time… I've corrected it. My blood... my genes. They are superior. No more impurities." He glanced at the intricate network of wires that fed into his veins, the sharp needles gleaming ominously. "And this time, I won't make the same mistake of running out of fuel. I'll absorb the power in stages. Controlled. Measured."
His voice softened as he leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling of the machine that loomed above him.
"There's no one else to test it on now. No more trial runs. No more sacrificial lambs. If this fails…"
He chuckled, a humorless sound. "No, failure isn't an option. Not anymore. I've invested too much."
With a deep breath, Akshat pressed a button on the armrest.
The machine responded instantly, the cradle hissing shut around him.
The sound of the sealing chamber was like a finality—no turning back.
"Let's see what becomes of me now," he murmured as the first needles plunged into his skin.
His eyes fluttered for a moment, the initial pain sharp but brief.
The serum began its work quickly, coursing through his bloodstream, his heart pumping it faster and faster.
Electrons surged through the cradle, crackling energy that made his skin prickle as the rotating feild turned on.
His veins began to glow, the purple light of the serum manifesting within him, spreading from his arms to his chest, down his legs, up his neck.
The sensation was both agonizing and exhilarating, like being set ablaze from the inside out albeit slowly.
"Pain... is to be expected," he whispered, his breath shallow as his body began to tremble.
His eyes snapped open, glowing a fierce purple as the transformation accelerated.
"But this… this is evolution. True evolution."
The fire inside him grew, coursing through every cell, forcing his body to adapt, to change.
His muscles tensed, bulging slightly as they decayed, his skin tight against the surging energy beneath.
His bones ached, but they, too, were reforming—strengthening.
His thoughts became muddled as the serum took deeper hold.
He could feel something tearing at the edges of his consciousness, a singular emotion threatening to consume him.
"No…" he growled, his voice low and strained. "I am not like the boy. I control this power. It will not consume me."
And then it began.
Akshat felt the first wave hit him like a jolt of lightning.
The machine hissed and groaned, its mechanisms whirring to life as the electrical field intensified.
He gritted his teeth, feeling his muscles seize under the current, every nerve in his body lighting up in sharp, unbearable pain.
The serum, coursing through his veins, began to pulse with a new intensity, its effects deepening as the electricity fed it.
His veins glowed brighter, the purple light pulsing rapidly like a flickering bulb as his skin tightened and his heart pounded harder in his chest.
93 Bpm was what the Screen read.
His body convulsed, the pain building as his muscles rippled and stretched beneath his skin.
The sensation was not just of growth but of something being forcibly rewritten—his biology bending to the effects of the serum, shifting and evolving.
His bones creaked under the pressure, lengthening and cracking as they struggled to keep up with the accelerated transformation.
He could feel the strain deep within, like something was trying to rip him apart from the inside out.
"More... fuel," Akshat managed to rasp, his breath shallow as the pain threatened to overwhelm him.
Suddenly, the machine around him shifted.
A second hiss filled the room as a new mechanism came online.
Akshat's eyes widened in realization as he felt sharp needles pierce deeper into his veins.
The machine began to draw out his blood slowly, methodically, as if siphoning away his humanity.
In its place, the serum flowed in, replacing more and more of his natural blood with the glowing, unnatural substance.
The second wave hit him harder than the first.
His body buckled, and he could feel his skin beginning to peel, the serum burning away the outer layers, exposing raw muscle and tissue beneath.
His blood, what little was left, began to evaporate upon contact with the serum, small flickers of flame igniting across his skin.
Akshat's mind reeled from the sensation, but he forced himself to stay conscious.
"This... this is... progress," he whispered through gritted teeth, his voice barely audible over the whirring machinery.
He felt the serum fuse with his bones, hardening them, while his muscles grew denser, more powerful.
His senses sharpened; his hearing grew more acute, his vision tinged with the eerie glow of the serum in his blood.
Every cell screamed in agony, but the transformation continued unabated.
Then came the second stage.
The electrical field ramped up further, surging with greater intensity.
Reaching a mark of 102 V/m close enough to rip out electrons from metal.
Reaching Akshat's body was thrown into violent spasms, and the serum now coursed through him like liquid fire.
He could feel it replacing his blood, burning away what was left of his human weaknesses.
His bones were no longer just cracking—they were shifting, warping, becoming something stronger, more resilient.
His muscles, already bulging with unnatural strength, began to tear apart as they expanded, only to heal themselves instantly, larger and more powerful than before.
Akshat's vision blurred, a purple haze clouding his sight as the serum continued its invasion, burrowing deeper into his organs, his brain.
He felt his heart strain to keep up with the rapid changes, each beat echoing like a drum inside his skull.
His thoughts became fragmented, scattered by the overwhelming flood of sensations.
As more of his blood was drained, the serum took over entirely.
His body was now almost entirely dependent on it for survival.
His skin, charred and burned in places, was regenerating but was tougher, thicker.
His bones, once fragile under the strain, now felt indestructible.
His muscles ached, but with every contraction, he could feel their newfound strength—a strength beyond anything human.
In the midst of this torturous evolution, Akshat felt something else stir within him.
It was not just his body that was changing.
The serum was working its way into his mind, shifting his thoughts, dulling the pain, heightening his instincts. His consciousness flickered, torn between the searing pain and the exhilarating power coursing through him.
The machine pulsed one last time, and the electrical field reached its peak. Akshat's body arched in the cradle, his mouth open in a silent scream as the final transformation took hold.
---
3rd person PoV
The lab was a scene of chaos and awe, the air thick with electricity and tension.
Akshat's transformation had exceeded anything they could have imagined, and yet, no one had been prepared.
The moment the cradle burst open with a deafening explosion, shards of molten metal shot across the room, and the force knocked several lab workers off their feet.
And , as the smoke cleared, their eyes were drawn to a single figure.
Akshat emerged from the wreckage, his body a terrifying sight—molten skin hanging in charred fragments from his frame, with purple cracks glowing like magma from within.
His skin, appeared as if it had been forged in the fires of hell itself.
Arcs of lightning shot from his body, crackling and dancing between the floor and the machines, the sheer energy emanating from him making the air hum.
The lab workers and guards who had approached, instinctively backed away, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination.
Akshat hadn't informed anyone of his plan—this was beyond any protocol, beyond any level of caution.
His pristine lab was now filled with a wild, uncontrolled energy discharge.
Akshat, however, seemed to care little for this.
He raised his hand slowly toward the sky, eyes glazed with a singular focus.
The purple glow in his veins intensified as electrical pressure built up within him, growing stronger with each passing second.
He could feel it—an inhuman control over the lightning coursing through his body, like a storm waiting to be unleashed.
His mind was blank, filled only with the raw sensation of power.
It was as if the serum had burned away everything but this—his connection to the forces of nature themselves.
His hand began to tremble as the electrical energy gathered at his fingertips, and with a sudden, violent release, he shot a massive arc of pure thunder from his hand.
The arc blasted through the roof of the lab, tearing it apart like paper, and shot into the sky above.
The clouds above the facility lit up in a brilliant display, the lightning spreading out in a beautiful but terrifying root-like pattern.
One arc triggered another, then another, until the entire sky seemed to be alive with crackling light.
Bolts of lightning struck all around the lab campus, one after the other in rapid succession, as if the heavens themselves had been awakened by Akshat's power.
For a moment, the world was nothing but light and sound.
Thunder roared in the distance, echoing off the mountains, while the ground beneath them shook with the force of nature's fury.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the lightning storm began to wane.
Akshat felt the power slipping from his grasp, his control fraying at the edges.
His muscles, once filled with energy, began to weaken, and the searing heat in his body subsided.
He swayed on his feet, his vision blurring as the strength left him.
His hand fell to his side, limp, and his body crumpled under the weight of exhaustion.
The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the lab, torn apart by the force of his own action.
Then, darkness.
All in all Project I or Indra was an astounding succes.
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Stones and Reviews Please.
And if you haven't noticed the original world isn't exactly ours its different!