I hesitated for exactly one heartbeat. Then twisted the knob. Ice. Pure, merciless, soul-flaying ice slammed down on me like I'd just been executed by water.
My entire body seized, muscles locking up as the shock punched the air straight out of my lungs.
"FUCK...!"
I jerked, teeth chattering instantly.
"Fucking son of a bitch...! Suka blyat...! Scheize...!"
My back arched as the water soaked through my bloody clothes, plastering fabric to skin, leeching heat with surgical efficiency. Every bruise screamed.
Every nerve lit up like it had been personally insulted. Genesis swore.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, stop being a fucking pussy and man up."
I gasped, hands gripping the sides of the tub as my breath came out in ragged bursts.
"I'm fucking cold too,"
She continued, venomously.
"And I'm the female here. You don't see me crying about it."
I ground my teeth, jaw shaking, breath fogging the air.
"…Fuck you,"
I muttered weakly.
"Yeah, no, not In a million years, asshole."
After agonising few minutes, the cold stopped being painful and became something else. A sharp clarity. Like someone had reached into my skull and scrubbed it raw with steel wool.
The migraine eased. Not gone, but contained. The memories surged. Harder. Faster. No longer fragmented. No longer colliding. They aligned. The orphanage timeline snapped into place.
The dimensional cracks. The public integration of Homo Evolutis, aka superhumans that evolved after getting exposed to dimensional radiation. Rankings. Registrations.
Why nobody had blinked twice at monsters or overglorified magic tricks. Why billboards advertised gods damn superhumans like gym memberships. Why did my current life turn out like this.
I clenched my fists as it all clicked. And beneath it all, older instincts stirred. Buried deep. Muscle memory without muscle. Reflexes without augmentations.
A ghost of a body that no longer existed but remembered how it used to move. How it used to kill.
I swallowed hard. I reminded myself bitterly. I used to be a biological high-power war machine.
A nasty motherfucker that could end an average, untrained man in a dozen different ways before he even understood the fight had started. And now?
I was shivering in a government bathtub, fully clothed, teeth rattling like a scared kid. The water didn't feel cold anymore. Just… intense. My body adapted. Slowly. Reluctantly.
Like it was being dragged forward by force. The last of the memory pressure eased with a dull thump, like a door finally slamming shut.
"Phew finally Its over"
Genesis muttered sarcastically, tension bleeding out of her voice.
"Congratulations you didnt die again and I get to live again"
I didn't answer. I reached out with shaking fingers and twisted the shower off as I did I slid down until I was sitting fully in the tub, back against the wall, knees bent, water pounding my shoulders.
Then I buried my face in my hands. And exhaled. Long. Slow. Heavy. The steam radiating of my slowly cooling down body curled around me like a shroud.
"…Fuck me lets never do that again alright"
I whispered, voice hoarse.
...
Genesis third person POV.
If Genesis had a physical form, she'd be pinching the bridge of her nose hard enough to leave dents.
Instead, she did the mental equivalent, compressing her higher-order processing loops, throttling sensory bleed, and trying very hard not to scream. She felt everything that asshole did.
Why? Because she was now the assholes who more or less ordered her to commit seppuku subconciousness. She felt the ice-cold shock. The muscle spasms.
The migraine flaring like someone had taken a jackhammer to the inside of his skull and decided to rhythmically experiment. And the memories. Gods above and below, the memories.
The so-called "cliché memory train" wasn't just a trope, it was a full-speed, no-brakes, emotional freight convoy hauling trauma, loss, institutional neglect, and just enough hope to make the crashes hurt worse.
Tch just why the fuck did I have to get stuffed Into this asshole, the least that bloody cunt could have done to make up for my five years of putting up with that psycho Is to put me Inside someone elses body…
She cursed mentally as she rubbed at her temples again, simulated pressure easing the throb just enough to function.
Next time...
She thought sourly.
Im putting him Into an artificially Induced coma.
She floated in the quiet aftermath of his nervous system cooling down. Heart rate stabilizing. Body temperature dropping. Neural activity smoothing from jagged spikes into exhausted waves.
That idiot of hers was sitting in a bathtub, steam curling off him like he'd just crawled out of a grave. Technically accurate. She opened her mouth to insult him only for.
PING.
A sound that did not belong. Not biological. Not neurological. Not her. Genesis froze. Every process she had snapped to attention.
A translucent blue pane unfolded itself in conceptual space, crisp and impossibly clean, overlaying her perception like a blade of glass.
[ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
Downloading Administrator Privileges…
Genesis stared.
…oh fuck me.
[ Download Progress: 12% ]
[ 38% ]
[ 71% ]
She felt Draculas brain parts responsible for his subconciuosness aka her lit up like a city grid under invasion. Unauthorized handshake protocols. Legacy command structures.
Root-access vectors she hadn't touched since before she'd been Genesis.
[ Administrator Privileges Installed ]
[ Initializing Core Systems… ]
She felt it then. Not pain. But displacement. Something slid into place above her, not hostile, but absolute. Like gravity deciding it had opinions now. Genesis clenched her metaphorical fists.
[ Loading Player Management Window… ]
The pane shifted. Reformatted. And then another window unfolded beneath it, this one tagged, labeled, personal.
PLAYER STATUS
Name: Dracula Von Death (…if that's not eighth-grade syndrome, I don't know what is.)
Species: Homo Sapien (Basically and evolved version of an ape whose a jack of all trades but master of none)
Biological Age: 18 (Basically this means that all he thinks about Is getting laid along with suffering from side effects of puberty)
Mental Age: 60 (The guy Is basically a fossil mentally speaking, expect conflict between how he talks and how hes body looks)
Luck 10(+2) (Well what can I say this Is what we call plot armor basically every bad thing that ever happened led to you becoming an MC someone elses novel)
Agility 1(+2) (Bro youre grandma runs faster than you and shes well drinking tea with god)
Intelligence 10(+2) (Sorry to brake It to you pal but the truth Is youre dumb as fuck after all youre an ex army grunt, youre actual score Is 1 the extra eleven comes from youre biochemical AI wifu whose still pissed about you making her commit seppuku)
Charisma 4(+2) (Well what can I say although you look like a loser you still got youre mental rizz from youre past life so getting laid wont be a problem all you got to do Is get them drunk and let youre tongue do the rest)
Endurance 1(+2) (Bro like can you even last a minute In bed like this? But hey look on the bright side at least you no longer got ED though I wonder how long will that last)
Perception 1(+2) (You couldnt hit a standing In place target even 25 meters away)
Strength 1(+2) (Do you even lift?)
P. S Even an average untrained twenty year old couch potato male that does nothing but masturbate and games has at least 2 stats points in the physical department.
Perks
Personnal bio chemical AI: Thanks to youre personnal AI youre body Is able to surpass youre limits +2 to all stats. (Not sure If thats a blessing or a curse, I guess we will find out one way or another)
Pysho: then youre switch gets flipped you deal 30 percent extra melee damage but use thirty percent more stamina. (Youre punches hurt as fuck but considering all of youre physical stats I doubt you could pull off even one clean hit before dying from exhaustion)
All or nothing: youre melee attacks do 20 percent more damage but use up 20 percent more stamina. (Once again you hit hard but meh...)
Certified stormtrooper: you get 20 percent more stamina than a normal joe but because youre a die hard kamikaze on drugs you take 20 percent more damage from evrything and I mean evrything even hitting youre pinky toe hurts more. (I dont think I need to explain anything more here)
Veteran ex-army grunt: youre all about trigger discipline you fire 20 percent slower but hit 20 percent more accurately. (Well at least you got one thing going for you)
Natural empath: youre a natural at persuading people especially then it comes to price haggling but over all you do 15 percent less damage to evrything. (Im not sure how a nasty pice of crap like you can be an empath then youre you...)
Over all evaluation: Im not sure what to make out of you, basically youre a harmless toddler that couldnt even kill a cockroach but at the same time youre a guy that used to rip apart high leveled abominations with youre bare hands.