34;RESULTS

The month had passed swiftly, marked by grueling training sessions, rigorous tests, and endless practice in mastering the Hunters' powers. The camp had evolved into a place of hardened warriors, its air thick with sweat, determination, and the faint bitterness of despair. Among the Hunters, none had garnered more whispered rumors, more hushed conversations, than the one known only as C66.

Inside the practice room, Leo stood silently, his dark blue eyes fixed on the block of titanium-grade steel ahead of him. The room was sterile and cold, designed to test the limits of even the most advanced Hunters. Its walls bore the faint scars of past training attempts—blasts, burns, and cuts from other recruits testing their powers. But none of the previous damage compared to what was about to happen.

Leo's chest rose and fell steadily as he prepared himself. He could feel the familiar pull of transformation bubbling beneath his skin. Closing his eyes, he let it overtake him. His human pupils dissolved into slitted, serpentine eyes of the deepest blue, their intensity capable of freezing a man's soul. A single curved horn erupted from his forehead, gleaming an otherworldly cobalt. His tattoos, once dormant, lit up his skin like ancient runes pulsing with energy.

He raised his arm toward the steel block, the target illuminated under the harsh, sterile lighting. Then, without a word, the air behind him shimmered and twisted as white, razor-sharp bones materialized from nothingness. They hovered around him, their sharp edges glowing faintly, forming a deadly halo of destruction.

With a sharp motion of his hand, the bones shot forward like missiles, slicing through the air with an ear-piercing whistle. They struck the titanium block with surgical precision, punching holes through the unyielding metal as though it were mere paper. Each impact left behind perfectly circular wounds, a testament to the power and control Leo had gained in just a month.

The bones dissipated into mist, fading back into nothingness as Leo lowered his hand. Behind the reinforced glass, a soldier monitoring his training stood frozen, his jaw slack in disbelief. "Amazing," the soldier murmured. "Just within a month... how did he get so precise?" His voice carried awe but also a trace of fear.

Leo glanced briefly at the damaged steel block before turning on his heel and leaving the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He stepped out into the camp, a sprawling landscape of makeshift tents and training areas that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The Hunter camp was a place like no other. It was a fusion of chaos and order, a crucible where humans-turned-hunters honed their skills amidst a backdrop of hardship. Tents were scattered haphazardly, their tattered fabric flapping in the dusty wind. Narrow pathways wove between them, creating a maze of dirt trails where recruits walked with determined strides or rested with weary expressions.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like a vision of hell. The air was filled with the sound of shouts, grunts, and the occasional crack of energy as Hunters sparred or tested their abilities. Yet to those who lived there, it was the only home they knew—a place of pain, survival, and the faint hope of reclaiming Earth.

Leo walked through the camp with purpose, his expression unreadable. He was a towering figure among the Hunters, not just for his physical prowess but for the aura he carried. People didn't meet his gaze; they averted their eyes, whispering his name as he passed.

As Leo passed by one of the open spaces used for sparring, a commotion broke out. Two Hunters were locked in a brutal freestyle fight, their movements raw and chaotic as a crowd gathered to cheer them on. One of the fighters, a burly man with glowing red scars, was thrown backward by his opponent and sent hurtling toward Leo.

The crowd fell silent as the man crashed into Leo, the impact staggering the fighter but barely making Leo flinch. The burly Hunter scrambled to his feet, his bravado replaced by sheer terror as he realized who he had bumped into.

"C66…" someone whispered from the crowd. The name rippled through the gathering like a shockwave.

The burly Hunter stammered, his face pale. "C66…" he echoed, his voice trembling. His muscles, honed from weeks of training, seemed to fail him as he stood frozen under Leo's cold gaze.

Leo's serpentine eyes locked onto the man for a brief moment, his expression as sharp and cutting as the bones he summoned. The crowd held its breath, waiting for something—anything—to happen. But Leo said nothing. He simply turned away and continued walking, his horn retracting and his tattoos fading back into his skin. The burly Hunter collapsed to his knees, drenched in sweat, as the crowd began murmuring again.

"C66… he scares me," one of the onlookers muttered.

"Every time those eyes fall on you, it's like staring into the abyss," another added.

The fear of Leo spread like wildfire among the Hunters. To them, he was a monster, a being as terrifying as the Formlings they were meant to fight. None of them knew the truth of Leo's heart, the kindness that once dwelled within him. All they saw was a cold, merciless warrior who had long since shed any semblance of humanity.

Leo didn't care about the whispers or the fear he inspired. As he walked through the camp, his thoughts were far away, lost in memories of a life he could never return to. His family—his father, his half brother—haunted him like shadows, their faces etched into his mind as reminders of what he had lost.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. There was no time for pity, no space for regret. Leo knew the truth that few others did: he had only three years to live. The scientists had confirmed it. The transformation into a humanic Formling was a temporary solution, a fleeting reprieve before the inevitable decay.

But Leo didn't fear death. If anything, he welcomed it. His purpose was clear, carved into his very soul. He would spend every remaining moment hunting down the creatures that had destroyed his family, his planet, and his humanity. If he could bring them to extinction, then his life—no matter how short—would have meaning.

The cheers and shouts of the camp faded into the background as Leo kept on walking, the dim sumlight enveloping him. He closed his eyes and whispered a silent vow.

"As long as I live," he thought, his serpentine eyes flickering briefly before turning human again, "I will kill them all. Every last one of them."

And so, the man known as C66 prepared himself for the battles to come—a hollow shell of a man, driven only by vengeance and the hope that, in his death, humanity might find life again.