"Haah!" A young man gasped. It was Kaeden, and the first thing to meet his gaze was the ceiling above. "My... room?" he muttered, gazing at the expansive ceiling—one of the benefits for remaining among the top fifty in the class. Even without combat prowess, his knowledge alone had sustained him so far.
"Ugh," he groaned, pressing his hand on his forehead. "What in the world happened? Why am I in my room?" he frowned.
He tried to recall what happened the previous day, and all that came back was the extremely long and boring class, and then, "Natasha..." he muttered, then tried to remember more but... "Huh? Why can't I remember anything ELSE?" he asked. Strangely, he felt... energized. That pain he remembered feeling before the darkness that was the rest of his memories, he no longer felt it. Instead, he felt... good.
"What is this feeling?" he muttered. He looked around, confirming it was really his room before swinging his legs out of the bed and placing both hands at the sides of the bed. With this, he sighed deeply, then stood up.
"Huh? This is... strange?" he muttered, looking at his legs. He then opened his palms before his face then clenched his fist. "Why do I feel strong?" He muttered. "...Could it be awakening?!" His eyes widened at the thought, after all, he did hear others' experiences of awakening—the sudden boost in strength, the changes it brought to their physical bodies. So he closed his eyes, trying to feel any sort of energy, hoping desperately, but alas, he felt nothing.
"Ugh, damn it, would it KILL you to surprise me there, fucking luck?" he asked, but yeah, that was changing nothing.
"Sighs," he sighed. "But what really happened? I only remember trying to respond to Natasha? That's all, so... what the hell happened?" he groaned, trying his possible best to remember, but he just couldn't, no matter what. "Maybe I passed out, then... I was brought here?" he thought. It sounded plausible, but then again... "No... why would I be brought here and not the infirmary?" That... made sense. If he did pass out, then he was supposed to wake up now in the infirmary. That sounded reasonable.
"Sighs, I will just ask Natasha," he said, then turned towards the semi-transparent door by the corner. Just then, his eyes shot towards the device at his wrist: [Level: 1.0]. That was the permanent display, but with a swipe to the right, he saw what he wanted to see: [Wed|| 7:45am]. But seeing it only made his heart stop.
"Curses!" He roared, realizing he was late—not just late. If he was late on just any day, he would at least not freak out this much (probably), but there was a reason he was this horrified, and it was because today was...
"Damn IT! Combat drill..." HE GROANED. He hated this day more than he hated his parents for forcing him into this academy. This was a day when all his knowledge couldn't save him, a day where he had to grab a weapon and endure the torment that waited for him.
BAM!
He rushed into the bathroom, hurrying to take a bath, but then... "O...kay... Now, who the fuck is this supposed to be? Me?" he asked in shock. Staring at him was... him, but a more altered version. Yes, he was staring at an altered version of his original self, perhaps an enhanced one, if one could add.
"Where the fuck is my spec? No, how the hell can I even see without it? And my face, why is it this white? Where the hell are my blue eyes?!" he roared in fear, touching his face, watching as the young man staring at him was doing the exact same thing he was doing. "What the hell is this? What is happening?!"
He completely forgot his former dilemma. This time, his sole focus was on the problem before his eyes: what had happened in the space of yesterday and today?
His face looked more... handsome, like his cheekbones were more defined. His red eyes had a domineering feel to them, and his grey hair that spread down to his shoulder made his allure impossible to overlook. Yes, he liked looking good, but how the hell was this even possible in the first place? What exactly happened yesterday?
"Wait, am I... taller?" His eyes widened. He was normally 5 foot 5, but now it seemed like he had grown four or five inches more!
Instantly, he took off the shirt he was wearing and could barely keep his balance, stumbling back in shock. "Packs? HOW?!" He screamed. Fully defined eight-pack abs and chest was the view—milky white skin, spotless and too smooth. Where in God's name were all the bruises, scars, burn marks, and marks of all sorts he had accumulated in all his years in this institution? Where were the sword marks that never refused to heal? The injuries from countless experiments he had carried out?
And at this point in time, all that came to his mind was one thing and one thing alone:
The incident.
"Oh god," he muttered in horror. It seemed he really was affected by his experiment that day, and no matter what he tried, or how much he wanted to deny it, there was no explaining this. It was clearly something impossible, but... from the mutations he had seen in the rats that very day, it was very possible.
"What have I done?"