Mutant awakening: My evolution knows no bounds

"I believe you have information for me," Caspian's voice was a deep, resonant growl that filled the room, every word carrying an unspoken threat that seemed to seep into the air, thickening the tension around him. His presence alone was enough to send ripples of unease through the room, his eyes cold and calculating as he stared at the woman standing before him.

"Yes, sir. A message has arrived from the mutant academy," the woman responded, her voice steady, betraying none of the nerves tightening her chest, though the tension in her shoulders was evident. She hesitated for just a fraction of a moment before she continued, as though bracing herself for the storm that was sure to come.

Caspian's eyes narrowed, his impatience growing palpable. "And may I ask what the content of the message is?" His tone was a sharp command, the pressure of his authority pressing down on her, forcing her to act quickly.

The woman nodded, her fingers trembling slightly as she turned back to the screen. She clicked on the message and waited for it to load, her breath shallow as she scanned the words that appeared.

The message was brief, almost chilling in its simplicity.

"Your son is dead."

The words felt like a blow to the chest. For a moment, Caspian stood still, his mind racing, his thoughts a blur. Then, the fire of rage ignited in his blood. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the muscles in his arms trembling with the force of his anger. His jaw clenched as he fought to restrain himself.

"That's it?" He ground out, his voice thick with barely contained fury. His eyes flicked to the woman, daring her to speak any further.

"Yes, sir. That's all it says. It appears your last son, the one you sent to the mutant academy, is dead." The woman's voice quivered ever so slightly, but she maintained her composure, despite the fact that everyone in the room could feel the storm building.

Caspian's eyes burned with fury, the anger that had been simmering inside him now threatening to boil over.

"My son is dead, and this is all they had to say?" His voice rose, sharp and dangerous, as the words tore through the room like a whip. "They sent me a text, as though he were nothing more than some stray animal that died in the street! No explanation, no remorse—nothing!"

The people in the room flinched, instinctively stepping back, their eyes darting nervously between Caspian and each other. The silence stretched for a few unbearable moments before Caspian spoke again, his voice now low but filled with a dark, menacing undertone.

"It's been a while since we've involved ourselves with the affairs on Earth," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His gaze flicked toward the window, his mind clearly working over the situation, piecing together the fragments of his fury. "And now, because of that, they're looking down on us. Treating us like we're nothing."

He turned slowly, his eyes sweeping over the room, his gaze cold and calculating. "I guess I'll have to pay the academy a visit," he said, his voice heavy with the promise of retribution. The finality in his tone left no room for argument.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The others in the room nodded quickly, a nervous energy rippling through them as they realized the gravity of the situation. They all knew what Caspian was capable of, and none of them wanted to be caught in his wrath.

"I want you to inform them of my arrival," Caspian continued, his voice smooth yet ominous. "And make sure they understand that I won't be coming with a smile on my face." His words hung in the air, a warning that left no room for misunderstanding. He turned on his heel, his black cloak swirling around him, and strode out of the room without another word.

---

Back at the mutant academy...

The atmosphere in the cafeteria was tense. News about the Shifters had spread like wildfire, and students were once again being called back to the academy to focus on more pressing matters. Silas and the others made their way through the crowded cafeteria, finding a table in the far corner to settle down.

As they ate, their conversation drifted to topics that felt inconsequential in the face of everything that was happening. They spoke of mundane things, like recent incidents around the academy and how the tension in the air had grown thicker over the past few days.

Hours later, the cafeteria emptied, the noise gradually dying down as the students made their way to their respective rooms. Silas was no exception. He made his way down the quiet hallway, pushing the door of his room open. With a weary sigh, he tossed himself onto the bed, the coolness of the sheets offering him a brief moment of comfort.

He spoke up, summoning the interface of his system. The familiar glow of the screen illuminated his room, casting soft light across the walls.

---

[Name: Silas Griswold]

Race: Mutant

Evolution Tier: Tier 3 Soul Devourer

Level: 73

Health: 100/100

Soul Points: 200/200

Soul Reserve: 100/100

Attribute Panel:

Strength: 100

Speed: 50

Reflex: 50

Agility: 50

Intelligence: 50

Available Attribute Points: 50

Skill Panel:

Lightning Dash (LVL 5): Boosts speed for 5 seconds. Costs 10 soul points.

Soul Claws (LVL 3): Extends claws from fingertips. Costs 1 soul point.

Soul Control (LVL 2): Manipulates beings with souls.

Soul Jab (LVL 1): Channels soul energy into a punch, halving higher-grade opponents' health.

Arsenal:

Grade 3 Chest and Leg Armor

Grade 4 Sycrax Blade

Grade 5 Soul Reaper Scythe

Grade 5 Dagger

Ghost Mask and Outfit

Clone skill card (22)

Nature manipulation skill card

---

Silas frowned as his eyes scanned the screen, frustration building in his chest. The rewards he had been eagerly anticipating after tracking down and slaying the Shifters had not materialized. He had volunteered for the mission, expecting something to show for his efforts, but instead, he had received nothing. Nothing but the sting of a failure he didn't even understand. A quest he was sure he had completed... yet the system had failed to deliver.

"If you don't want to give me rewards, just say it," he muttered bitterly. "There's no need to act all cryptic and wise about it. I know I completed the damn quest!" His words were harsh, but there was no one in the room to hear his frustration. His voice softened slightly as he let the anger subside, turning his attention back to the screen.

"It's been a while since the last evolution quest... maybe the system is preparing something bigger. After all, I'm about to evolve into a whole new class. It wouldn't make sense for it to be easy," Silas mused. He clicked on the [shop] tab, hoping to find something that would ease his frustration or at least improve his situation.

The screen morphed as he entered the shop, and without hesitation, he put his Grade 5 katana blade up for sale. Within seconds, the blade vanished from his arsenal, and a notification popped up indicating the transaction was complete. The amount of tokens in his account increased by 3 million.

Silas stared at the number for a moment, the disappointment creeping in. He had bought the blade for 5 million tokens, yet he had only sold it for 3 million. "Have I been scammed, or is it because I've already used it?" he wondered aloud. He didn't dwell on it for long and instead continued scrolling through the available items, looking for something that might prove more worthwhile.

His eyes settled on a couple of potions: one that restored health over a 24-hour period, and another that did the same for soul points. Each cost 1,000 tokens, and Silas bought four of each, adding them to his arsenal. He also purchased an upgrade chip, a device that could enhance mutant weapons or armor.

Silas swiftly used the chip to upgrade his armor to Grade 4. It was an expensive process, and by the time he finished, his 3 million tokens had dwindled down to just 1 million. Still, the progress was satisfactory, and for the moment, that was enough.

With the screen dismissed, Silas closed his eyes, his body relaxing as he slept off.

---

Meanwhile, in the VIP section of the academy, Vic stood before his bathroom mirror, his reflection a far cry from the neat and composed figure he usually presented. His once neat snow-white hair was now disheveled and matted with sweat, his face flushed and slick with the exertion of his struggle. His body trembled as he panted heavily, the physical effort of maintaining his composure taking its toll on him.

He had been trying so hard to act normal around the group, to keep his facade intact, but something was wrong. He could feel it in every muscle, every breath he took.

His body was betraying him, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, the signs of strain were unmistakable. Vic's hands gripped the sink, his knuckles turning white as his gaze remained locked on his reflection.

"Argh!" Vic grunted, his breath coming out in short, ragged bursts as a sudden, sharp pain sliced through his ribs. His hand instinctively shot to his side, clutching at the aching area.

The pain was like a fire, spreading from the center of his body outward, making his skin tingle with the heat. Desperate, he ripped his shirt off, revealing the raw, angry skin beneath.

The sight made his blood run cold. A long, jagged scratch mark marred the flesh just beneath his ribs, and what looked like dark, almost tar-like liquid was spreading from the wound, seeping into his skin.

"Shit." Vic's voice cracked as he stood there, frozen in horror. His eyes widened in terror as he took in the sight. The dark liquid, which appeared almost unnatural, had no place in his body.

"That... that bastard scratched me!" he muttered, his voice a low growl of anger and disbelief. The realization hit him like a freight train