The Unvanquished: Child of Nihility-Chapter 66: Bloodline Fusion

First bonus Chapter

Chapter 66 – (Trial Three: Genetic Compatibility Test Result)

Another jolt of energy from the pod sent Morca’s back arching off the slab. Fresh pain crackled along every nerve.

He felt two forces swirling inside him like dueling serpents – one of utter emptiness, the other of burning bloodlust.

They coiled, battled, and for one terrifying moment, Morca thought they would tear him apart from within.

His vision blurred, doubled – reality itself seemed to ripple.

’Was that... someone inside the pod with me?’

A tall, indistinct figure emerged to his left, outlined in swirling black mist. Its eyes were twin voids, gazing at him with a sorrowful pride.

To his right, another phantom flickered into being – muscular, cloaked in bloody red light, and crowned with a halo resembling a blazing crimson moon.

Two silhouettes. Two overwhelming presences. Though the pod was cramped, they felt impossibly vast.

"Who... are you...?" Morca rasped. His voice cracked like dry leaves.

The black-mist figure lifted a hand and touched his forehead. A cold numbness swept over him, soothing the pain.

The red figure placed a fiery hand on his chest. Strength surged through him, wild and fierce.

The opposing touches somehow synchronized. The two warring forces inside him – emptiness and bloodlust – began to merge. The pain dulled into a steady throb. Morca sucked in a ragged breath.

And outside the pod, the chaos found sudden clarity.

The holographic screen blinked back to life. Symbols stopped scrambling.

Then – gasps erupted from the observation room.

"TWO... BLOODLINE GRADE: MYTHICAL..." The words flashed across the screen in bold letters.

For a heartbeat, silence held the room. Reverent. Disbelieving.

Mythical.

Such a rating was legendary – maybe once in a decade or even a century. And yet, this year, not one... but two, maybe three candidates had surfaced with these absurd qualifications.

Monsters.

That’s what the academy had bred this year.

Inside the pod, Morca barely registered the flurry of astonished voices.

"Two Mythical...? Did it say Two Mythical?! How is that possible?" There must be a mistake!" Instructor Alvis’s voice cracked. His fingers flew over the panel. The device now blinked: "Recalibrating..."

Morca shivered as the pod changed frequency, scanning again.

The two phantoms at his sides began to fade. The black-mist figure – the embodiment of Infinity Nihility – nodded slowly before dissolving into the void.

The crimson warrior – the Crimson Battle Moon – stood tall, arms crossed, before vanishing into the blood-red glare.

Morca felt them retreat – like parts of himself sinking into the depths of his soul.

He exhaled shakily. It was over.

Or so he thought.

Suddenly, the pod hesitated.

The lights stuttered. A strange chime, sharp and discordant, echoed through the air – a glitching static.

Morca’s lungs clenched. Pressure crushed his chest. He gasped for air, eyes bulging.

The system had begun re-scanning – trying to reconcile the impossible data it had just processed.

On the display, the word Mythical flickered violently. The letters jittered in place, scrambling and dissolving into fragments of light.

M... Y... T... The characters broke, reformed, broke again.

From somewhere in the control room, a voice shouted through Alvis’s comms "Override the system! It’s overloading!"

Alvis barked a reply "It’s auto-correcting the output – look at the screen!"

Alvis’s eyes locked on the panel. He tapped a final command sequence.

Beep. Beep.

The screen flashed, stabilized.

Bloodline 1: ??? – Grade: Mythical

Bloodline 2: ??? – Grade: Mythical

The data shifted again.

Bloodline 1: Infinity Nihility – Grade: ???

Bloodline 2: Crimson Battle Moon – Grade: ???

Another pause.

Then, with a final shimmer, the values changed:

Final Recorded Grade: Epic

Bloodline 1: Infinity Nihility – Grade: Epic

Bloodline 2: Crimson Battle Moon – Grade: Epic

The word Epic glowed with calm certainty, as if it had always been the truth.

The lie had been written in code.

Inside the pod, Morca’s body finally relaxed. His muscles trembled. Sweat drenched his skin. He gasped, gulping air like a drowning man.

Hssssss –

The pod let out a long, releasing hiss. The glass cover slid open with a whisper.

Cool air rushed in. The restraint clamps deactivated.

Morca slumped forward, only for strong arms to catch him.

Instructor Alvis.

The old man’s eyes were wide, his jaw tight, as he carefully steadied the exhausted boy.

Instructor Alvis steadied Morca with practiced hands, the faintest tremor betraying the storm of thoughts behind his composed facade.

’This child... he should not exist.’

Alvis’s eyes drifted to the flickering panel one last time.