Chapter 18: The Pulse Beneath the Concrete
Kaito stood before the company building again, this time with a much heavier heart.
The previous nights had already left scars—on his nerves, on his trust, and on what little belief he had in the system. But he wasn't here for belief. He was here for answers. For survival. Maybe revenge.
Tonight was different. Tokyo felt… wrong.
The streets, usually buzzing even at late hours, had quieted too early. Not in the way that peaceful neighborhoods do, but like something had sucked the life out of the city and left only an echo. His boots clicked against the pavement with a rhythm too loud for comfort. The wind didn't blow. Not a car passed by.
When he reached the company building, it felt colder. The same flickering light above the security door buzzed. The keypad beeped faintly when he pressed his access code. But no one was there this time. No mysterious guard. No keys handed over.
Just… unlocked.
That's not right.
He stepped inside, flashlight gripped tightly in one hand, the strap of his bug extermination bag in the other.
The air hit him like breath from something rotten. Mildew. Metal. Something else—burnt hair? The building's first floor was in disarray. Chairs toppled. Desks scratched. The company's insignia on the wall had a long slash across it, as if someone had clawed through the concrete.
Kaito's breath caught in his throat.
A new notice was plastered against the wall. He moved the light to read it.
"Quarantine in Effect. Do Not Proceed Beyond This Point."
The ink was fresh, still wet, smearing where it had trickled down. The handwriting looked rushed… no stamp… no date. Just those words.
His flashlight flickered.
"No… not now," he hissed, smacking it with the base of his palm.
When the light stabilized, he caught movement down the hallway. Shadows twisting unnaturally—like bones bending wrong beneath skin.
He pressed on.
Each floor he climbed, the worse it became.
Floor 3 had blood smeared across the elevator door. The kind that tells a story—someone had tried to claw their way in or out.
Floor 5, the hallway buzzed with static. Not from a speaker—but from them.
The bugs.
Not the tiny ones. No. These were different. These were the changed.
One crawled out from a cracked ceiling tile. Its carapace glistened, almost armored like obsidian, segmented with red bioluminescent veins. Its eyes—five of them—glowed faintly, watching him without blinking.
Kaito froze. Slowly reaching for the weapon on his belt. Modified sprayer, filled with compound XZ-37. Not military grade—but enough to melt flesh.
He sprayed.
The creature hissed, shrieked like metal grinding against bone, and collapsed halfway through a leap.
But he knew there'd be more. And worse.
His communicator crackled. That wasn't supposed to happen underground.
"…Kaito? …You're still inside?"
It was Aiko's voice—his supervisor. Shaky. Desperate.
"Yeah," he whispered. "What the hell is happening here?"
"You need to get out. Right now. You weren't supposed to go in."
"You told me to come."
"I didn't! Someone used my terminal. They've been… it's not safe. Something has hijacked the network."
Kaito's mind reeled. But he couldn't leave yet. Not without knowing.
He advanced toward the central lab.
This was the building's heart. The company's real purpose was never just pest control—it was containment. They studied parasitic evolution in insects. What the public knew was just a veil.
And something had broken the veil.
At the lab's entrance, Kaito found the final horror of the night.
The containment pod—once sealed behind reinforced glass—was shattered. Inside was the writhing remains of something that had grown beyond bug or beast. Like a mantis crossbred with a scorpion, covered in wiry black spines. It had claws like blades and wings like shredded curtains flapping against no wind.
Its head snapped toward him.
Kaito bolted, slamming doors behind him.
He ran through the stairwells, down broken corridors, the hallway lights dimming and returning in pulses—like a heartbeat not his own.
At Floor 2, the thing crashed through the wall above him. Chunks of cement and metal fell as it screeched. A nearby locker burst open from the pressure, spilling old tools and equipment. One item—a prototype plasma cutter—skittered near his feet.
He didn't think. He just moved.
Grabbing the cutter, he spun and activated it. The glow bathed the hall in blue. The monster lunged. Kaito aimed low, carving into the legs. Then the throat. Then—
Silence.
The body dropped, spasming and oozing black ichor.
Kaito stood panting, half-covered in slime. Knees weak. His hand trembled from gripping the cutter.
And then the building trembled.
Not from damage.
From beneath.
Something bigger had felt the death.
Something older was awake now.
He stumbled out of the building, the morning light just beginning to peek over the horizon.
Police and emergency vehicles surrounded the perimeter.
Kaito fell to his knees, exhausted and confused. Aiko rushed to him, tears streaming down her face. But no words were spoken.
As Kaito looked back at the building, its shadow seemed to pulse—like something inside wasn't done yet.