Aiden spent the next morning attempting to convince himself that the previous day had been some elaborate stress-induced hallucination.
This theory immediately fell apart when he woke up and headbutted his ceiling fan.
The fan lost.
Aiden stared at the remains scattered across his bedroom floor.
The horn remained intact.
“Well,” he said to the empty apartment, “that’s unfortunate.” YOU HAVE EXCELLENT DURABILITY.
“I HAD EXCELLENT DURABILITY BEFORE I STARTED DESTROYING APPLIANCES WITH MY FOREHEAD.” THAT IS OBJECTIVELY FALSE.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that there was now an ancient cosmic entity living inside his head.
That was not a sentence he’d ever expected to think.
The Primordial Chimera, meanwhile, appeared to be enjoying itself immensely.
At some point during the night, it had developed the habit of commenting on everything he did.
YOUR COOKING IS INEFFICIENT.
“It’s eggs.” THEY COULD BE MORE EGGS.
“I’m beginning to understand why your civilization disappeared.” MY CIVILIZATION DID NOT DISAPPEAR.
“That’s somehow worse.” After breakfast, he spent approximately twenty minutes attempting to hide his horn beneath a hat.
This proved unsuccessful.
The horn simply tore through the top.
He tried another hat.
Same result.
By the fourth hat, he was beginning to take it personally.
YOU SHOULD EMBRACE YOUR NEW FORM.
“I WOULD RATHER EMBRACE FINANCIAL STABILITY.” The Primordial Chimera fell silent for a moment.
…THAT IS AN ADMIRABLE GOAL.
There was a knock at the door.
Aiden opened it to find Marcus Vale standing in the hallway.
The Guild Master took one look at the destroyed ceiling fan, the pile of ruined hats, and Aiden’s increasingly permanent expression of exhaustion.
“I assume the horn is still attached.” “It’s winning the war.” Marcus nodded.
“Good.
Get dressed.” “Why?” “Because the Hunter Association wants to perform tests.” “Can I say no?” “No.” “Can I pretend to be dead?” “I checked.” “That’s invasive.” “Occupational hazard.” Thirty minutes later, Aiden found himself back at the Hunter Association.
Word had apparently spread.
Entire sections of the building had been evacuated.
Researchers watched him through reinforced glass.
Someone was taking notes.
He was beginning to feel less like a person and more like a particularly interesting zoo exhibit.
“This feels illegal.” “It’s probably adjacent to illegal,” Marcus admitted.
Sophia Evernight waited for them inside a laboratory filled with equipment Aiden didn’t recognize.
“Good morning.” “Debatable.” She gestured toward a chair.
“We’re going to run a few tests.” “Those words have never led to anything pleasant.” The first test involved mana.
Aiden placed his hand against a measuring device.
Nothing happened.
Sophia frowned.
“No mana.” “That’s still a thing, apparently.” The second test measured physical strength.
Aiden lightly punched a reinforced target.
The machine exploded.
“Oh.” Marcus sighed.
“There it is.” “I was being gentle!” “Please stop being gentle.” The third test involved reaction speed.
This one ended when Aiden accidentally caught a rubber bullet fired from behind him.
“I would like to point out that shooting me was not adequately explained beforehand.” Sophia stared at the results.
“That’s impossible.” “I’m beginning to feel like we should print that on business cards.” Hours passed.
Every test produced the same conclusion.
No mana.
No Class.
No identifiable source of power.
And physical abilities that continued increasing every time they measured them.
Finally, Sophia placed a file onto the table.
“We’ve reached a conclusion.” “Wonderful.
I assume it’s horrifying.” “Potentially.” She opened the folder.
“Your body is adapting.” He blinked.
“…That’s it?” “Not adapting metaphorically.
Literally.” That got his attention.
“What do you mean?” Sophia activated a nearby screen displaying several scans of his body.
“This was taken immediately after your transformation yesterday.” Another image appeared.
“And this was taken fifteen minutes ago.” Even Aiden could see the difference.
His muscles were denser.
His bones had changed.
There were structures beneath his skin that hadn’t existed yesterday.
“That’s concerning.” “Your body is actively evolving in response to external stimuli.” Marcus folded his arms.
“The monster yesterday injured your arm.” “Technically.” “Afterward, your body developed Void Resistance.” Aiden slowly remembered the notifications.
The Adaptive Body.
He’d almost forgotten about them.
“Wait.” He looked toward Sophia.
“How do you know about the notifications?” Her expression froze.
“What notifications?” “Oh.” Marcus closed his eyes.
“There it is again.” “Apparently, my body talks to me.” Silence.
“I would like to formally apologize for asking.” “No, I think we’re past that point.” Aiden explained everything.
The messages.
The adaptations.
The fact that his body apparently considered evolution mandatory.
By the time he finished, Sophia had stopped writing notes and simply stared into the distance.
“This changes everything.” “People keep saying that.” “No, I mean literally everything.” She pointed toward the scans.
“Humanity has spent forty years studying mana.
Every power system we know has limitations.” “And?” “And yours doesn’t.” The room fell silent.
“Your body isn’t strengthening itself according to predefined rules.
It’s observing, adapting, and evolving.” The Primordial Chimera finally spoke.
AS IT SHOULD.
“Could you stop sounding proud for five minutes?” NO.
Sophia continued.
“If this continues…” “What?” She hesitated.
“You may eventually become immune to things that should kill you.” Aiden laughed nervously.
“That’s ridiculous.” No one else laughed.
“Oh.” There it was again.
Before anyone could continue, alarms suddenly blared throughout the building.
WARNING.
DUNGEON BREAK DETECTED.
SECTOR FOUR.
ALL AVAILABLE HUNTERS REPORT IMMEDIATELY.
Marcus immediately stood.
“Stay here.” “No.” “No?” “No.” “Aiden—” “A Dungeon Break means people are in danger.” “You are not a Hunter.” “I’m aware.” “You don’t have a Class.” “Also aware.” “You have a horn.” “Painfully aware.” Marcus opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Damn it.
“You cannot seriously be considering this.” Aiden thought about Mrs.
Palmer.
About Emma.
About the people who had spent their entire lives protecting him.
“If I have the power to help someone…” he said quietly, “then I should.” The room fell silent.
The Primordial Chimera’s voice echoed softly through his mind.
THAT IS A VERY HUMAN THING TO SAY.
“Is that an insult?” …NO.
For once, the ancient creature sounded almost thoughtful.
Marcus eventually sighed.
“I hate this.” “I’ve noticed.” “You’re staying behind me at all times.” “That’s fair.” Twenty minutes later, they arrived at Sector Four.
The situation was already deteriorating.
An E-Rank Gate had ruptured inside a shopping district.
Monsters flooded the streets.
Civilians were still trapped inside nearby buildings.
Aiden immediately spotted a little girl crying beside an overturned vehicle.
Without thinking, he ran.
“Aiden!” Too late.
The monster reached her first.
A goblin.
Small.
Green.
Ugly.
It raised its weapon.
Then stopped.
Its eyes widened.
Slowly, the goblin lowered itself to the ground.
Then another did the same.
And another.
Within seconds, every monster in the immediate area had fallen to one knee.
Aiden stopped running.
“…Why does this keep happening?” The goblins trembled.
«THE KING.» “Oh, come on.” Marcus landed beside him.
“I don’t suppose this is normal?” “At this point, I genuinely have no idea.” The little girl looked between him and the kneeling monsters.
“Mister…” “Yes?” “Are you a superhero?” Aiden looked down at his horn.
At the monsters worshipping him.
At Marcus questioning every decision that had led him to this moment.
Then he sighed.
“Honestly?
I have absolutely no idea.” Far away, beyond the Gates and beyond the stars, ancient beings continued to awaken.
The news had already begun to spread.
The Vessel had appeared.
The King had awakened.
And though humanity remained unaware of it— The age of the Chimera King had finally begun.