MUTOSTERONE

4 Bitgaram, Kaenbi 1314, Elysian Vale, Brimwald

Brimwald had once been a town of peace—a jewel of Elysian Vale, nestled between golden fields and quiet forests. Now, that peace had rotted away, replaced by something cold, something suffocating.

The streets were no longer filled with laughter or the casual chatter of merchants haggling over fresh produce. Instead, silence pressed down on the town like a heavy fog. Doors creaked shut at the first sign of movement, windows latched tight as shadows passed by.

Their blackened boots struck the cobblestone in perfect rhythm, a drumbeat of control that rattled through the bones of Brimwald. The red insignias on their uniforms stood out like open wounds against the muted colors of the town.

At their approach, townsfolk scattered like frightened rats. A woman hurriedly pulled her child into an alley, whispering harshly to keep quiet. An old merchant, once known for his booming voice and wild tales, now kept his head low, his hands trembling as he fumbled to close his shop's shutters.

Everyone in Brimwald knew why the CPG was here. Mutants were hiding among them. And in Brimwald, even the suspicion of harboring one could mean ruin.

The guards moved with cold precision, their eyes scanning every face, every doorway. No warmth, no mercy. Just the unwavering discipline of men who had seen what mutants could do—who had been trained to fear them, to eradicate them.

A muffled sob echoed from one of the homes, quickly hushed. A sudden slam—a door kicked open. "Inspection!" barked one of the officers.

Inside, a family stood frozen—a father shielding his wife and daughter. The girl couldn't have been older than ten, her fingers gripping the hem of her mother's dress. The guard's eyes flicked over them, searching.

The father swallowed hard. "We—we have nothing to hide."

The officer stepped closer, his armored glove trailing along the wooden table, knocking over a cup just to watch it shatter. The family didn't move, their breaths held as if exhaling too loudly might be enough to damn them.

After a long pause, the officer exhaled through his nose, turning away. "See that you don't."

The rhythmic stomp of boots against cobblestone continued, each step echoing through the lifeless streets. The Capitol Patrol Guard moved with unwavering discipline, their gazes sharp, scanning for the unseen threat lurking among Brimwald's people.

Then—a beep. One of the officers halted, eyes narrowing as he checked the handheld radar strapped to his gauntlet. The Mutosterone levels had spiked.

A red dot blinked on the screen, pulsing like a heartbeat—northwest, near the Bakery. "Possible mutant. Moving now."

The squad pivoted smoothly, spreading out, guns ready, fingers near the triggers. Their training dictated no hesitation. But before they could close in—she ran. A blur of motion burst from the alleyway. A girl. A teenager.

She moved with inhuman agility, weaving through the narrow streets with terrifying precision. Her feet barely touched the ground before she propelled herself forward again, twisting, ducking, leaping—a ghost slipping between the cracks of the city. "Subject on the run! Lock down sector three!"

The CPG scrambled, barking orders through their comms, but she was too fast. One officer lunged to grab her—only to catch air. Another raised his rifle, trying to get a clean shot, but the girl vaulted over a cart, kicking off the wall, landing with a roll, and was gone again.

She was making fools of them. Still, they pursued. Boots pounded the ground. Flashlights flickered through the dark alleys. But she was nowhere to be seen.

Only the soft sway of an abandoned lantern remained, rocking gently in the cold wind. The CPG stood there, breathing heavily, their quarry lost to the shadows. But they didn't leave. They kept searching.

She pressed herself against the damp brick wall, heart hammering in her chest. The alley was narrow, dark, and just wide enough to disappear in. She pulled her hood lower, wrapping the tattered cloak tighter around her small frame. She couldn't afford to be seen.

The patrol had lost her, but Brimwald had eyes everywhere. She stepped carefully, her breathing slow, her legs aching from the chase. One wrong move, one sound, and it was over. But then— "Oi, look! It's one of them!"

A boy's voice, sharp and cruel, pierced the silence. She froze. A group of children stood at the mouth of the alley, their faces twisted with malice. One boy, tall and scrawny, with dirt-streaked cheeks and a torn shirt, pointed straight at her.

"Mutant filth!" he spat, loud enough for the whole street to hear.

Her stomach knotted. No. No, please, not this.

The boy picked up a rock and hurled it. CRACK. It hit her shoulder, sending pain lancing through her body. She gasped, stumbling back.

"Disgusting freak!" Another stone. This time, it grazed her cheek, leaving a stinging cut.

She clutched her cloak, pulling it tighter. "Please… stop."

They didn't. The boy laughed. Another joined him. More stones. More words.

"Stay away from our town!"

"You should be locked up like the rest of your kind!"

She covered her head, curling inward, trying to shrink, to vanish. But she couldn't. She wasn't invisible. She never was.

The rocks kept coming. Her breath hitched. Tears burned behind her eyes. And so, she did the only thing left—She ran.

She burst out of the alley, her breath ragged, her legs burning. The streets stretched open before her—freedom just beyond the next corner. But then—A hand seized her wrist.

She gasped, yanked to a sudden stop. The iron grip tightened, fingers digging into her skin. "Got you."

The CPG agent loomed over her, his helmeted face unreadable. More agents closed in, boots thudding against the cobblestone.

She thrashed. She had to get away, had to keep running. But the grip was too strong. One of the agents raised his radio. "Captain Rouf, we have her. Orders?"

A crackling pause. Then—"Detain her on sight."

Her heart dropped. No. No, no, no.

She struggled harder, but another agent grabbed her other arm, yanking her back. Cold steel snapped around her wrists. Handcuffs. "Stay still, mutant."

She gritted her teeth, panic swelling, rising, choking. No escape. No way out. This was it.

One of the agents reached for a syringe—a neutralizer. And then—BAM. A shockwave exploded from her hands.

Blinding light. Deafening sound. A pulse of raw energy rippled through the air, ripping metal apart like paper.

The handcuffs—gone. The guns—rusting into dust. The agents staggered back, eyes wide, hands grasping at empty holsters. One whispered in horror. "Chronomancer."

She stood there, trembling, gasping for air. Her hands still crackled with residual energy, but she didn't understand.

What just happened? The handcuffs—gone. The agents' weapons—corroded into nothing.

She stared at her own fingers, shaking, breathless. She had never done anything like that before. She had never even—"Move in! Detain her!"

The CPG agents snapped out of their shock, regaining control, surrounding her. Their hesitation was gone. They wouldn't let her escape again.

She needed to run. But her legs refused to move. Then—A shimmering portal tore open behind her.

Black, swirling void. Faint whispers curled through the air like echoes from another world.

Before she could react, a hand shot out. Cold fingers seized her wrist. She barely had time to scream—And then, she was gone.

The portal collapsed in on itself, disappearing into nothing. The CPG agents stood frozen, staring at the empty space where she had been.

Then, one of them grabbed his radio, voice tight with urgency. "Captain Rouf—subject lost. A portal took her. I repeat, she's gone."

The world around her twisted, folding in on itself—and then it was gone. A gust of salty wind hit her face.

She stumbled forward, bare feet sinking into soft sand. The golden horizon stretched endlessly before her, waves rolling in a rhythmic, calming pulse. A beach?

Her breath hitched. East Coast? West Coast? She had no idea.

The sky blazed in hues of orange and violet, the sun dipping low—either dawn or dusk. The air smelled of salt, warmth, and something strange yet familiar. Before she could process it, the portal opened again. A figure stepped through.

A boy—tall, lean, his dark hair tousled by the ocean breeze. His presence felt effortless, like he belonged here, like the world bent around him rather than the other way around.

He smiled. "You're safe now. At least for a while."

She swallowed, still catching her breath. "Who… who are you?"

He tilted his head. "Shouldn't I ask you that first?"

A beat of silence. Then, she nodded. "Seren."

His lips quirked. "Seren, huh?"

Then, as if amused by some inside joke, he added, "Solus."

She blinked. Then chuckled. Seren and Solus. Moon and Sun. Their names rhymed. Like two celestial bodies bound to an unseen orbit.

Solus watched her in silence, his sharp eyes searching for something in her expression—a sign of certainty, a hint of direction. But she said nothing.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah… figured as much."

Seren kept staring at the horizon, the waves washing over her ankles, the cool water grounding her in the moment. But her mind was anywhere but here. What now?

Solus crossed his arms. "Look, you can't just wander aimlessly. Not with the CPG after you. Not with powers like that."

She tensed at the mention of it. The shockwave. The way the metal of their guns and cuffs had disintegrated like centuries-old ruins crumbling in seconds. She hadn't meant to do it. She hadn't even known she could do it.

Solus took a step closer, his voice steady. "There's a place. A refuge. Hall of M."

Seren frowned. "Hall of M?"

"A sanctuary for mutants. A safe haven." His tone softened. "At least, as safe as anywhere can be these days."

She hesitated. She had never heard of such a place. But if it meant getting away from the CPG…

Solus extended a hand. "What do you say?"

Solus watched her in silence, waiting for an answer. The ocean breeze tousled his dark hair, but his golden eyes remained fixed on her.

Seren's lips parted, but no words came out. What could she even say? She had spent her entire life running—running from CPG, from the whispers, from the stones thrown at her in the alleyways. And now, she had nowhere left to go.

She lowered her gaze, swallowing back the lump in her throat. Then, with a slow, shaky breath, she nodded.

Solus gave a small, knowing smile. He had expected this. Without another word, he stepped forward and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. The moment he touched her, the world collapsed.

The salty air, the crashing waves, the endless horizon of the beach—all of it was ripped away in an instant. The sensation was like falling through liquid shadow, her body weightless yet heavy, pulled toward some unseen destination. Then, with a sudden pulse of energy, reality snapped back into place. They stood before the Hall of M.

Seren gasped, stumbling slightly as the weight of her body returned. Her wide eyes darted up at the massive structure before them—tall iron gates, towering walls, and a fortress that loomed against the sky.

Solus casually pressed a small button near the entrance. A chime rang out, cold and distant. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a deep metallic groan, the gates unlocked and swung open.

Seren hesitated. Her instincts screamed at her to run. She had spent her whole life avoiding places like this—hidden compounds, closed walls, places where people like her were "kept safe" but never truly free. She clenched her fists. No. There was no turning back now.

Solus took a step forward, then paused, glancing back at her with a small smirk. "Well? You coming?"

Seren exhaled and forced herself to move, stepping past the threshold. As the gates closed behind them, she couldn't help but wonder.