The Franklin family had always been known as a lineage of scholars.
For generations, each of its mbers had stood out as a prodigy without equal, making major contributions across various fields.
And yet, despite their colossal influence on humanity’s evolution, their na remained unknown to the general public, as they preferred discretion.
But even within this exceptional family... Kritos was an anomaly.
From birth, he bore the weight of that legacy.
His childhood knew neither innocence nor normalcy.
At two years old, he could already read and write. At three, he was entrusted to the greatest minds in the world. Two years later, he debated with them on subjects even adults struggled to grasp.
But this early genius concealed a fracture.
The more knowledge he accumulated, the more a void grew within him.
Everything felt... simple.
Too simple.
What he desired was not knowledge, but the unknown. Unresolved mysteries. Ancient truths. Works capable of shaking him to his core.
This obsession beca so intense that it alard the family patriarch, his grandfather.
One day, he summoned him.
No one ever knew what was said during that eting.
But from that day on... Kritos changed.
He requested a personal laboratory. The request was imdiately granted.
For years, he locked himself inside.
Cut off from the world, he experinted, dissected, analyzed.
And yet, even that eventually ceased to be enough.
At fourteen, he finally erged from his seclusion.
"I must awaken... if I want to go further."
But awakening required ti.
Under his mother’s persistent pressure, he enrolled in a university.
What should have been a re formality turned into a demonstration.
In just two years, he earned multiple doctorates: in genetics, dicine, history, and psychology. His supplentary publications pushed those fields forward by several years.
A monster.
Even among the Franklins.
That was how he inherited a nickna even his own family deed excessive:
The Insatiable.
---
anwhile, Sirius... was living through hell.
He had known pain. Torture. Suffering in all its forms.
But nothing... nothing compared to this.
His heart swelled, as if ready to burst. His intestines contracted violently. He felt new organs forming while others disappeared.
His body wasn’t transforming.
It was being rewritten.
Against all logic.
Against nature itself.
And worse...
He could feel it.
This wasn’t just physical.
Sothing was reaching into his essence.
His identity.
His DNA.
("So... this is how I die... in pain...")
His thoughts faltered.
Then
He stopped resisting.
Not out of surrender.
But clarity.
If he kept going like this... he would die.
So he did what he knew best.
Detach.
"1... 2... 3... 5... 7... 11..."
Pri numbers.
An anchor point.
A rhythm.
Little by little, he forced his mind to dissociate from his body.
The pain didn’t disappear.
But it stopped being him.
It beca... external.
Like background noise.
Sirius entered a state he had already partially mastered the one where he buried his emotions and murderous intent.
But this ti...
He went further.
Much further.
His consciousness sank.
Like into a deep ocean.
Calm.
Silent.
And there...
He saw.
His body.
Not with his eyes.
But with his mind.
Every organ.
Every flow.
Every mutation.
("I understand...")
This wasn’t chaos.
It was a flow.
A lody.
Out of tune.
("Then... I have to conduct it.")
Like Iris.
Like a conductor.
If his body was an instrunt...
Then his will would be the hand guiding it.
Slowly, he took control.
Not completely.
But enough.
Like diverting a current, he redirected the mutations.
He couldn’t stop them.
But he could...
Contain them.
Isolate them.
Concentrate them.
His focus narrowed to a specific area:
His intestines.
His abs contracted violently.
His teeth clenched.
("Hold... steady...")
The pressure was imnse.
One mistake...
And everything would collapse.
Then
Stability.
("I did it...")
The pain was still there.
But now...
It was nothing more than background noise.
("I can fight.")
---
Kritos smiled.
Slowly, Sirius rose to his feet.
His body was covered in blood. It stained every opening. His smile, however, was twisted. Almost... inhuman.
A demon leaving the table.
"Clap. Clap. Clap."
Kritos applauded, genuinely impressed.
Sirius tore off his top in one sharp motion.
Beneath his abs, a red glow pulsed violently.
He wiped the blood from his eyes, then said:
"Your resonance is interesting... You manipulate cellular structure at will. No wonder you regenerated."
Kritos raised an eyebrow slightly.
Surprised.
But amused.
Sirius continued:
"I hope that makes you immortal..."
His smile widened.
"...otherwise you’ll die before I’m satisfied."
Silence.
Then
>
>
>
The air changed instantly.
A dense white mist flooded the arena.
Visibility dropped sharply.
Within that fog...
Chains erged.
Alive.
Conscious.
They moved silently, their spear-like tips ready to strike.
At the center
Sirius.
Standing.
Sword in hand.
("I’m going all out.")
His presence beca overwhelming.
A killing aura spread around him.
He slightly bent his right foot—
And vanished.
---
Kritos felt sothing within him stir.
Curiosity.
Excitent.
But above all...
A new kind of intoxication.
("So... this is it.")
The ecstasy of battle.
("I must respond in kind.")
He raised his right hand.
With a precise motion, he lightly cut his wrist.
A thin, red scalpel erged.
He grabbed it with his left hand.
His wound closed instantly, in a burst of sparks.
("Behind .")
CLANG.
He parried a chain erging from the mist.
Then imdiately ducked to avoid a second.
("They’re surrounding .")
He tried to move.
But the chains reacted instantly.
("They’re anticipating my movents...")
His gaze hardened.
The mist reduced his visibility.
A mistake.
"Damn."
Too late.
His body instinctively leaned to the left.
A good reflex.
But not enough.
>
A wave.
A tidal force condensed into a single strike.
The power and velocity of the sea combined into one sword blow.
Kritos barely dodged.
But
His left arm was cleanly severed and fell to the ground.
"Tsk."
He clicked his tongue and tried to retrieve it.
But a chain imdiately seized it and dragged it into the mist.
Then
Sirius’ voice echoed.
"Well... that’s unfortunate."
Silence.
"You can’t regenerate a limb from nothing?"
"If I cut you in half..."
"Will you survive?"
A smile in the shadows.
"Let’s find out."
>
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