Heathen Chronicles - Changed

Chapter 26 - The Birth of Raphael

Raven's POV

I stretched out my aching limbs, pacing the lab to work the pins-and-needles sensation out of my legs. I was itching to test my new 'transformations' just as much as the General and the Doctor were—honestly, probably more. But first, I had to endure the mandatory procedures and check-ups to ensure the serum hadn't caused any internal glitches.

I stood before the mirror and admired my new self. I looked like a character ripped from the pages of the dark fantasy books I loved to read; I liked the change. I felt different—stronger, sharper, and infused with a terrifying confidence. While my mind was still adjusting to the physical shifts, my body felt instinctively ready for the others, whatever they might be. I needed to get out of this sterile lab and train. There was something else tugging at my mind, a phantom itch I couldn't quite scratch, but for now, I just wanted out.

The Doctor meticulously took notes and photographs of every visible physical change. He peppered me with questions, and I found myself answering with a strange, blunt honesty. I had no reason to lie; in fact, I felt no desire to. It was unsettling. He was clearly exhilarated, eager to test the hidden abilities he was certain I possessed. I could feel it, too. I was different from the others.

The General watched me like a prize hawk, listening attentively to every word I spoke.

"Do you feel different?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied simply.

"Do you know what is different about yourself?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me in detail?"

"The wings are the most obvious change," I said, glancing over my shoulder at the heavy weight on my back. "I can't fully control them yet, and I didn't expect them to be so massive. My eye color has shifted completely. My sight is sharper, my hearing is crystalline. I feel energized... ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To do what I am meant to do. Though I'm not entirely sure what that is yet."

"Good," the General chided happily, cutting off the Doctor before he could intervene. "But first, we must test the extent of your changes."

"When do we start?"

"Tomorrow."

As we walked out of the lab, I felt the weight of a dozen gazes. I looked at the team and felt a hum of energy—a shared frequency. Ripper and Oblivion stood side-by-side, watching me with a calculated intensity. I felt a magnetic pull toward them; perhaps it was the shared blood of the serum.

"Can you hear what they are thinking?" the Doctor whispered curiously.

I took a deep breath. I didn't want to reveal the answer, but the truth forced its way out of my throat. "No."

"I see. Do you know why?"

"It's a feeling," I said. "We can communicate telepathically if we choose, but we cannot eavesdrop on our own kind."

The Doctor nodded, looking impressed as we passed the training arena and entered the killing floor.

I stood in the center of the arena as the heavy gate locked behind me. The General, the team, and the Doctor sat in the stands, pens poised over notebooks. The opposite gates ground open, releasing two bulky, misshapen creatures.

"These were dishonorably discharged soldiers," the General's voice echoed. "They volunteered for the first trials, seeking revenge on those who ruined them. As you can see, they were unsuccessful matches."

"Clearly," I muttered. I noticed the Doctor cock his head, noting my lack of empathy. He made a mental note, keeping his thoughts private. I'm stronger than they realize.