Alaric - POV
As I stood there in the forest, my gaze dropped to the lifeless doe at my feet. I felt a strange mix of satisfaction and exhaustion-a reminder of what it took to hunt with the abilities I'd gained. The energy it had drained was... considerable. The virus was powerful, yes, but using it came at a cost. Every strike, every flex of muscle enhanced by its influence, pulled at something within me. I hadn't felt it as much with smaller prey, but the larger the fight, the sharper the drain.
It was nothing compared to that day with the bear, though.
I brushed my hand over the rough bark of a nearby tree, remembering the beast's snarling face, the weight of it barreling into me, and the deep pain of its claws. It had torn into me like I was paper. I'd barely managed to hold on, the virus fighting to close up my wounds even as the bear landed another hit. By the time I had finally taken it down.
I'd felt hollowed out. I could still feel the phantom ache of my torso, the part where flesh and bone had been ripped open. I hadn't known how much the virus would take to repair me until that moment, and when it did, it had left me feeling like I'd just crawled out of my own grave.
So, that's how it worked here. I wasn't a bulletproof monster like I remembered from the second game, where the virus was strong enough to harden bodies until bullets bounced off. No, this was something... earlier. Weaker. With every punch I threw, every hit I took, there was a price.
I knelt down, pressing a hand against the doe's side. My claws had retracted by now, but I could still feel the strange, buzzing energy just beneath my skin, waiting to be summoned. It was a resource, I realized, that I couldn't afford to waste. It needed to be rationed, like food or water. The virus was strong, yes,but not invincible. And neither was I.
If I kept pressing myself like this, if I kept testing my limits without understanding them fully, I'd end up just as dead as any other kid alone in these woods.
Pulling a knife from my belt, I set to work on the doe, reminding myself to be careful, to stay within my limits. This power was a tool, but only if I used it wisely.
—----------—
Time had slipped by quietly, like the rustling of the trees around them, and before they knew it, Alaric and Mikasa had both turned nine years old. Days melted into weeks, and weeks into months, each one leaving them a little older, a little wiser, and maybe a bit closer. Alaric had grown used to the Ackerman family's quiet routines and warmth, finding something comforting in their simple home—a place where he could almost let himself feel like a child again.
One bright afternoon, though, something shifted.
"Alaric!" Mikasa's voice rang through the house as she stomped over to him, eyes flashing with a kind of righteous fury. She pointed accusingly at the empty dish on the table, the one that had once held the last of the sweets.
Alaric, caught mid-chew, looked up, cheeks slightly puffed and eyes wide. "What? It was just one…"
"Just one?" Mikasa's voice rose as she put her hands on her hips, all but glaring. "That was the only one left! You ate it!" Her expression was one of innocent betrayal, as though he'd committed the gravest offense in the world.
Alaric swallowed, raising his hands defensively. "I was hungry! You can't really be that mad over one sweet, right?"
"You have no idea!" Mikasa huffed, crossing her arms. "Do you know how long I saved that?"
He tried reasoning with her, a playful grin creeping across his face. "Okay, okay, I get it. But come on, you've had other sweets before."
"But that one was mine," she insisted stubbornly, and the way she said it made him feel like he'd just stolen a treasure. Her voice held that serious tone only a child could truly master, one that made even the silliest things sound monumental.
Yuuta and Kurumi came outside, hearing the commotion, but instead of intervening, they just stood back, watching with smiles tugging at their mouths. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and pride, as if pleased to see this simple, lighthearted squabble unfold.
Mikasa's face scrunched up, the last of her patience ebbing away. "You can't just eat whatever you want, Alaric! You're such… such a… sweet thief!"
Alaric chuckled, hands raised in surrender, though he didn't look at all remorseful. "Alright, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you somehow, okay?"
But Mikasa wasn't done yet. "No! You owe me an apology! And… and… and you better make sure there's another one next time!"
"Deal," he said, laughing again. But beneath his laughter, something stirred—something that made his heartbeat skip.
A prickling sensation crawled along his skin, and suddenly his heart was thumping wildly, his breath quickening. The virus inside him seemed to pulse, almost like a second heartbeat. And then, that prickling shifted, sharpening into something close to a warning, a faint, buzzing reminder that he was forgetting something… something important. The virus felt restless, like a beast waking up, clawing at the edges of his mind, making him feel slightly out of control. The low hum of hunger began to grow.
He glanced around, hands suddenly cold with the weight of a realization: if he stayed too close, if the virus took over now, there was a chance he might hurt them.
"Alaric!" Mikasa's voice brought him back. "Are you even listening?"
But he was already stepping away, his gaze shifting toward the edge of the forest. "I… I have to go, Mikasa. I… I'll see you later."
She watched him, confusion crossing her face. "Alaric, you don't have to run! It's just… just a sweet. I didn't really mind it that much."
He turned away, offering her a faint smile over his shoulder. "It's not about that. Just… don't worry, okay? I'll be back."
He guessed it was because his body had probably run out of biomass to keep feeding the virus inside him and now it was actively trying to devour the closet living being- Mikasa.
He sprinted toward the forest, before she could stop him, Mikasa's calls fading behind him. But in his mind, that nagging feeling stayed with him—a reminder, haunting and elusive. Something was slipping through his thoughts, something that felt crucial, but every time he reached for it, it stayed just out of reach, leaving only the hollow ache of uncertainty in its place.
A/N:- You know, I have this theory that in the first game It was the Virus that was keeping Alex Mercer alive so it itself could survive since it was still weak and was evolving so it kept him alive and whenever Alex felt that he was growing stronger, in actuality it was the virus that was evolving. You know like how there are some virus or parasites who take over an insects body completely eat away from them inside but keep the brain alive so it thinks it is still alive but it's already dead and it is the parasite inside them controlling them.
That's why Alex becomes evil because he is not Alex but the Blacklight virus controlling his body.
The Nuclear bomb that vaporized Alex acting as a catalyst.
Well, that what I think do let me know what you think.