COVELENT: XenoTrait

The room was quiet....

Amme sat restrained, her breathing uneven, her body still trembling faintly from the crystallization and whatever had happened after. Her eyes darted between Markus and Ash, trying to understand, trying to piece together something that made sense.

"...What... did you do to me?" she asked, her voice tight.

Markus didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he turned slightly. "Ash."

Ash stepped forward. His mask reflected the faint light of the chamber, giving nothing away, but his presence alone shifted the atmosphere.

Markus folded his hands behind his back. "It’s time she understands."

A pause. "...What Mark 8 really is."

Ash stopped a few steps away from Amme.

He studied her. His eyes moved up and down as he observed her."The way she acts, the way she talks... enough of that. This is my test subject," he pondered.

"...You are still alive," Ash said calmly.

Amme frowned. "...Yeah, I noticed."

"That is not sarcasm," Ash replied. "That is an anomaly."

Her jaw tightened. "...Start explaining."

Markus stepped forward slowly. "Mark 8," he began, "is not a tool."

A pause. "It is not an ability." He took another step. "It is not even a mutation."

He looked directly at her. "...It is a parasite."

Silence hit....

Amme blinked. "...A... what?"

Ash continued. "A living organism," he said. "Adaptive, invasive, and self-propagating."

Markus nodded slightly. "It enters the body," he said, "and integrates itself into every layer of biological function."

"...Like a disease?" Amme asked.

"No," Markus said immediately. "A disease weakens."

A pause. "This evolves."

Amme’s eyes narrowed. "...Then why did people die?"

Markus’s gaze didn’t waver. "Because they couldn’t survive the integration... it is natural selection, after all."

Ash stepped slightly to the side. "There are rules," he said.

"Structures... classifications."

Amme’s breathing slowed slightly.

She was listening now.

"Mark 8 users are divided into two categories," Ash continued. "Command Types and Action Types."

Markus gestured slightly with his hand. "A necessary distinction."

Amme frowned. "...What’s the difference?"

Markus lifted his right hand slowly. "Observe."

He extended it toward the air. He grabbed the black marbles from his pocket, smashed them, and black smoke appeared. From it, he formed a diamond-shaped rose.

"When I make contact with a huma—" Markus said calmly, "...the Mark 8 transfers instantly."

Ash spoke over him. "It floods the body."

Markus’s fingers flexed slightly. "It spreads through their system in seconds."

Amme’s eyes widened slightly. "...That’s what happened to those people outside..."

Markus didn’t deny it.

"Yes, they crystallized, but that was just natural selection," he continued.

A pause. "And once they are crystallized..."

His eyes sharpened slightly. "...I decide what they become."

The words hung heavy.

Amme swallowed. "...You’re saying... you can turn people into anything... why... why did you kill those outside?"

Markus lowered his hand slowly. "What do you mean?"

Amme barked, "You just said it was natural selection."

Ash interrupted. "I believe you are mistaken... the people outside, Markus did not touch them. It was this." He gestured behind him to the giant crystalline structure.

Amme asked, "What do you mean... he said.."

Markus interrupted, "Well, you see that thing there... that is Mark 8, or at least the source of it. When it spread, it crystallized all those who were not worthy... even my father is gone."

Silence.

Ash stepped forward again.

"That said, let’s get back to what we were saying...," he said. "He... is a Command Type."

Amme looked at him. "...And you?"

A pause. Ash tilted his head slightly. "...I am not the same."

He reached up slowly, touching the edge of his mask.

"...My Mark 8 does not obey me."

Ash continued.

"When Mark 8 entered my body..."

A pause. "...It did not wait for instruction."

Amme watched him closely now.

"It acted," Ash said. "On its own."

He inhaled slowly.

A faint, almost imperceptible sound followed.

"...Every breath I take..."

A pause.

"...creates diamonds."

Amme blinked. "...What?"

Ash didn’t react.

"Microscopic crystalline structures form within my lungs with every inhale."

"They grow, they sharpen, and they cut."

The room felt colder.

"...I cannot stop it," Ash continued.

"I cannot control its formation."

Markus spoke calmly. "That is why he is classified as an Action Type."

Amme frowned. "...So you’re weaker?"

Ash looked at her. "Yes... well... no."

A pause. "An Action Type isn’t necessarily weaker than a Command Type."

"I lack control over the process, but I control the result."

He stepped back slightly. "When the diamonds form... I direct them, shape them, and a lot more."

Amme’s eyes narrowed. "...So it’s like... you don’t choose what happens... but you choose what to do with it after?"

Ash inclined his head slightly. "...Correct."

Markus stepped forward again. "Command Types," he said, "initiate and control the entire process."

"Action Types..."

He glanced at Ash. "...adapt to what the parasite produces."

Amme leaned back slightly, trying to process. "...So the Mark 8 just... decides?"

Ash answered. "Yes."

Silence fell.

Markus’s voice lowered slightly. "The parasite selects how it integrates, and in most cases..."

A pause. "...it kills the host."

Amme’s hands tightened against the restraints. "...And I didn’t die."

"No," Ash said.

A long pause followed.

Markus studied her carefully. "...Which means," he said slowly, "...you passed natural selection, and now you’re far from ordinary."

Amme’s heartbeat quickened. "...Then what am I?"

Ash stepped closer. "...That," he said quietly, "...is what we are about to find out."

The chamber lights dimmed slightly.

The air thickened.

Markus turned away. "Prepare the next phase."

Amme’s breathing picked up again. "...Wait, what does that mean?"

Ash didn’t answer immediately.

"...It means," he said, "...we observe."

Markus stopped at the doorway. "...And we classify."

The word echoed.

Amme swallowed.

"...And if I don’t fit into either?"

Markus glanced back.

Just slightly. "...Then you become something else."

The door opened as light spilled in. "...And something else," he added, "...is far more dangerous."

The door closed.

Amme sat there, her heart racing, her mind spinning, and her body still recovering.

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