Kaiden sat on the cold restraining platform long after the last engineer had been escorted away. The diagnostics room still stank of burned metal and the sharp, sick-sweet scent of the specialist he had killed. No one dared speak of the corpse. They simply removed it, replaced the blood-splattered plates, and left him alone with the buzzing hum of his Core.
The violet glow hadn't dimmed.If anything, it pulsed with a slow, hungry rhythm—like it was tasting the air.
Kaiden tried to steady his breathing.The Core steadied it for him.
Footsteps echoed.
But they weren't Zarkus's.
The reinforced doors slid open, and three demon figures entered—armored, decorated, their cloaks marked with sigils that belonged only to the highest military houses. They walked like nobles who had never been refused anything in their lives.
Kaiden felt the mana signatures before he saw their faces.Their energies were… unpleasant.Twisted. Ambitious. Smug.
Zarkus followed behind them, silent.
The lead officer—a tall demoness with long silver-black horns—clicked her tongue softly as she inspected Kaiden.
"So this is the weapon you've sunk half your division's budget into?" she murmured. "It looks unstable."
Kaiden's jaw clenched.Not at her insult—at the way her mana brushed against him. It wasn't human purity, but it was clean for demon standards. Too clean. His Core spat sparks under his skin, warning of rejection.
Zarkus stepped beside her, expression unreadable.
"He is unstable," Zarkus said calmly. "That's the point."
Another officer snorted. This one was stockier, built like a siege ram, his armor plated with obsidian spikes. He stabbed a finger toward Kaiden.
"If it killed one of your specialists during diagnostics, it's defective," he growled. "Put it down. Build another."
Kaiden didn't react.But the Core did.
His fingers twitched—sharp, involuntary spasms like a predator flexing its claws. His vision briefly sharpened to a razor-thin tunnel, centering on the officer's throat.
Zarkus noticed.
Zarkus smiled.
"You believe you can order the disposal of my creation, General Maarkos?" Zarkus asked quietly. "Very bold."
"It's not bold," the general growled. "It's practical. A weapon that kills its own handlers is a liability."
"And a weapon that kills anything it touches," a third officer added, a thin, sharp-faced demon with eyes like molten gold, "is a political threat."
Kaiden realized then:They weren't here to inspect him.They were here to decide his ownership.
Zarkus spread his hands slightly.
"If you doubt his worth," he murmured, "why not observe a demonstration?"
The officers exchanged looks.
Kaiden's Core thumped once—hard enough to rattle the restraints.
Zarkus turned to the magisters near the wall. "Bring in one of the controlled beasts."
The gold-eyed officer raised a brow. "Already? He just destabilized hours ago."
"Exactly," Zarkus said. "This will tell us how the Core reacts under strain."
Kaiden felt a pit open in his chest plating.Not fear.Not hesitation.
Annoyance.
He didn't want to perform like an animal again.But his claws twitched in anticipation anyway.
Magisters rolled in a containment cage—thick iron, laced with counter-runes. Inside, a mana-starved war-beast snarled, teeth like jagged stone, patches of fur missing from starvation and rage. It lunged at the bars, shaking the cage violently.
The officers stepped back.
"Release it," Zarkus said.
The magisters obeyed.The cage burst open.
The beast shot across the arena floor, roaring, claws raised—
—and Kaiden didn't remember moving.
His restraints broke with a sound like bones snapping.Violet light flashed through the room.
And the next moment, the beast was pinned to the wall, Kaiden's hand buried in its chest cavity. Its heart dangled from his claws, still twitching.
Silence swallowed the arena.
The walls shook from the impact.Blood dripped in a steady rhythm.
Kaiden's breathing came in thick, heavy bursts.Like a furnace struggling to contain a wildfire.
The officers stared.
The golden-eyed one whispered, "…He moved before the beast finished crossing the room."
"Faster than before," the demoness murmured. "Your experiment is evolving, Zarkus."
Maarkos folded his arms, glowering. "You made a weapon that ignores commands and acts on instinct."
Zarkus walked forward, stopping beside Kaiden—who was still holding the dripping heart.
"No," Zarkus said softly."He acts before the instinct. Before the thought. That is what makes him superior."
Kaiden turned slowly, dropping the corpse.
His Core pulsed again—bright, savage, hungry.
And all three officers stepped back as one.
Zarkus's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"You came to see if he belongs to you."He gestured to Kaiden's silhouette, still steaming with heat and blood."He doesn't. He belongs to me. And he will remain under my command."
None of the officers argued now.
Kaiden stared at them, at their uneasy eyes, at their sudden caution.
And for the first time since the boy's death, since the rejection, since the blackout—
he realized something:
They feared him.
Not because of what he did.
But because they saw what he might become.
Zarkus placed a hand on Kaiden's shoulder plate, like a master settling his grip on a leashed beast.
"Come," Zarkus said coolly. "We have work to do."
Kaiden followed.
But as he walked, he felt the officers' eyes on his back.
Not as a tool.
Not as a soldier.
As a threat.
And deep inside his Core, the hunger pulsed again—slow, patient, promising this was only the beginning.