"What happened...?"
Faust's hoarse voice echoed through the ruined laboratory.
He remained on the floor, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. His vision was still blurry, and everything around him appeared distorted.
He blinked several times.
Gradually, the shapes before him became clearer.
Broken machinery. Cracked walls. Shattered glass scattered across the floor.
Faust frowned.
'Where am I?'
He tried moving his arm, only to stop when he noticed something strange.
His body felt different.
He could feel the cold floor beneath his palm, the dust against his skin, and even the faint movement of air around him.
His limbs felt unusually light, almost as though he had been freed from a weight he had carried his entire life.
Faust slowly raised his hand.
The fingers looked familiar, but something about them seemed wrong.
He opened and closed his fist several times.
'This body...'
He tried standing.
However, the moment he pushed himself up, a sudden wave of memories rushed into his mind.
"Urgh!"
Faust grabbed his head.
Images flashed before his eyes.
His laboratory.
His research.
His family.
The people responsible for their deaths.
And finally, the missile.
His breathing became uneven as the memories continued returning.
"My name..."
He lowered his trembling hand.
"My name is Faust Mchollen."
More memories followed.
He remembered many things.
The preparations he had made. The commands he had programmed into the world's military systems.
The missile carrying the substance he had spent so long developing.
And the destruction he had unleashed.
Faust stared at his hands.
'I launched it...'
He remembered watching the final countdown.
He remembered the gun.
And he remembered pulling the trigger.
His eyes widened.
'Wait...'
He slowly touched his forehead.
There was nothing.
No wound.
Not even a scar.
"How...?"
His breathing grew heavier.
"How am I still alive?"
He had planned everything.
After taking revenge on those who destroyed his family, he had intended to die along with the civilization he hated.
There should have been nothing left for him.
Faust clenched his teeth.
"I was supposed to die..."
His fist suddenly struck the floor.
CRACK!
The concrete cracked beneath his hand.
Faust froze.
He stared at the fractures spreading outward from his fist.
The impact had been powerful enough to damage the floor, yet he had barely felt anything.
He slowly raised his hand.
There was no blood.
His knuckles remained perfectly intact.
"What...?"
He looked around again.
The laboratory was almost unrecognizable.
The experimental containers that once filled the room had disappeared. Some had melted, while others had shattered, leaving broken glass and dried stains across the damaged floor.
Several worktables had been overturned.
The remains of burned furniture lay scattered among pieces of machinery, and the ceiling above was covered in cracks.
Faust recognized the place.
This was his laboratory.
Or rather, what remained of it.
'How long was I unconscious?'
He tried recalling what happened after he pulled the trigger, but his memories ended there.
As he moved his hand across the floor, his fingers suddenly brushed against something cold.
A familiar metallic object.
Faust looked down.
His firearm lay among the debris, partly covered in dust.
He stared at it.
For several seconds, he did nothing.
Then he slowly picked it up.
'So it's still here...'
He turned the gun over in his hand.
The familiar weight brought back his final memory.
He remembered the sound of the shot.
He remembered expecting everything to end.
Yet somehow, he had awakened inside that strange cocoon.
Faust's expression gradually changed.
"Let's see..."
He raised the weapon.
BANG!
The gunshot echoed through the ruined laboratory.
However, the result was completely different from what he had expected.
A brief sting struck his temple.
Then something metallic bounced across the floor.
CLINK!
The bullet had ricocheted away.
Faust remained motionless.
His eyes widened as he slowly touched the side of his head.
There was no wound.
He looked down and found the deformed bullet lying several feet away.
"What...?"
His legs suddenly lost their strength.
THUD!
Faust dropped to the floor.
He touched his temple again, searching for even the smallest injury.
But there was nothing. Not even a single blood.
For a moment, he could only stare blankly at the bullet.
Then his shoulders began trembling.
"Hah..."
A strange sound escaped his mouth.
"Hahaha..."
He lowered his head.
"Hahahahaha!"
His laughter grew louder, echoing throughout the empty laboratory.
Yet tears began falling from his eyes.
DRIP!
DRIP!
He laughed until his chest hurt.
"Seriously...?"
He wiped his face with one hand, only for more tears to follow.
"Even Hell rejects me now..."
His laughter slowly faded.
Faust remained seated among the debris, staring at nothing.
He had spent so many years preparing for this day.
Every calculation, every experiment, and every sacrifice had been made for a single purpose.
To destroy everything.
And to end his own life afterward.
But now...
"Why am I still here...?"
His voice trembled.
He received no answer.
After a while, something on the floor caught his attention.
A large piece of broken glass lay near his foot.
Faust reached toward it.
The glass had once belonged to one of the laboratory's observation panels. Despite the cracks spreading across its surface, it still reflected his appearance.
Faust looked down.
Then his expression froze.
'Who... is that?'
The face reflected in the glass was familiar, yet different.
His once blue eyes had turned a striking amber.
His unkempt hair was now heavily streaked with gray, giving it an almost silvery appearance beneath the faint light.
His facial features had become sharper, and his skin looked healthier than it had in years.
The exhaustion that had once marked his appearance was gone.
Faust slowly touched his cheek.
The reflection followed his movement.
He pulled back a strand of his hair, examining its unusual color.
"What happened to my body?"
He stared at himself for several seconds.
Then his expression twisted.
PRAANG!
His fist struck the glass.
The shard shattered beneath the blow, scattering smaller pieces across the floor.
Faust looked at his hand.
Again, he felt almost nothing.
He slowly opened his fist.
There should have been cuts across his knuckles.
Instead, his skin remained completely smooth.
He flexed his fingers.
Even the muscles beneath his skin felt different.
His grip was stronger, and his movements were more precise than he remembered.
'What did that cocoon do to me?'
His eyes shifted toward the strange silvery structure behind him.
But before he could examine it, another thought entered his mind.
'Maybe...'
Faust looked at the firearm still resting beside him.
His expression darkened.
He picked it up once more.
BANG!
Another gunshot rang through the laboratory.
This time, the weapon itself broke apart.
Fragments of metal scattered across the floor.
Yet Faust remained alive.
He coughed and spat out a few pieces of metal that had entered his mouth.
"Phuuu!"
He lowered the damaged firearm.
His hands began trembling.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the weapon.
Then he threw it aside.
CLANG!
"What the hell...?"
Faust slowly lowered his head.
"Just what the hell happened to me?"
He had no explanation.
His body had somehow survived two gunshots without suffering any injury.
Even his strength had increased beyond anything an ordinary human should possess.
Faust remained motionless for a while.
Then he turned toward the silver cocoon.
The surface cracked open from the moment he had emerged.
Despite the damage, the remaining material continued giving off a faint silver glow.
Faust approached it.
He had spent most of his life studying substances that conventional science could not fully explain.
Yet he had never seen anything quite like this.
'Was this thing responsible for keeping me alive?'
He reached out.
The moment his palm touched the silvery surface, the cocoon trembled.
Faust instinctively pulled his hand back.
"Huh?"
The material continued vibrating.
Then, before his eyes, thin silver threads began separating from its surface.
Faust watched in disbelief as the threads rose into the air.
They moved toward him.
"What is this?"
He took a step backward.
However, the threads followed him.
Several touched his arm.
Instead of cutting into his skin, they wrapped gently around it.
More threads emerged from the cocoon, spreading across his shoulders, chest, and legs.
Faust looked down.
The material felt strangely familiar, almost as though it were part of his own body.
He could sense its movements.
He could even feel the individual threads shifting across his skin.
'They're responding to me?'
As that thought crossed his mind, the threads began moving faster.
Within seconds, they completely surrounded him.
The silver material tightened and changed color.
A sleek black shirt formed across his upper body, followed by a fitted jacket.
The remaining threads moved down his legs, forming trousers and shoes.
Faust lowered his arms.
He was now fully dressed.
He touched the sleeve of his jacket.
The material felt surprisingly comfortable.
It was soft against his skin, yet when he pressed his fingers against it, he could feel an unusual resistance beneath the surface.
'Clothing?'
He examined it more closely.
Faust tried pulling at his sleeve.
It stretched slightly before returning to its original shape.
Then an idea occurred to him.
'Can it change into something else?'
He focused on his arm.
He imagined the sleeve unraveling.
Immediately, the fabric began moving.
Thin black threads separated from the jacket, gathering around his wrist.
They twisted together, extending outward.
Within moments, the threads formed a long, black blade.
Faust stared at it.
"What...?"
He slowly moved his arm.
The blade followed.
He moved it again.
The weapon responded instantly, almost as though it were an extension of his hand.
He could even sense its position without looking directly at it.
Faust studied the blade for a moment.
Then his expression changed.
'If this thing can cut...'
His hand trembled.
He slowly turned the weapon toward himself.
For a brief moment, he hesitated.
Then the blade shot forward.
SWOOSH!
However, just inches away from his head, it stopped.
Faust froze.
He tried moving it closer.
The blade refused.
He attempted to force it forward, but the black threads remained completely still.
"What...?"
He looked at his arm.
"Move."
Nothing happened.
"Move!"
The blade continued refusing his command.
Faust gritted his teeth.
He could feel the connection between himself and the material.
He knew it was responding to his thoughts.
Yet when he tried using it against himself, something prevented the blade from moving.
As soon as he lowered his arm, the weapon moved freely again.
Faust stared at it.
Then he slowly began laughing.
"Hah..."
His shoulders trembled.
"Hahaha..."
He covered his face with his free hand.
"Hahahahaha!"
The laughter grew louder.
"Oh, Heavens!"
His voice cracked.
"What sort of sick joke is this?!"
He looked toward the ruined ceiling.
"Today, I killed billions of people!"
His voice echoed through the laboratory.
"I destroyed everything! I wanted to die with them!"
He lowered his head, staring at his uninjured hands.
"But this...?"
His breathing became uneven.
"To make me immortal instead?!"
Faust suddenly shouted.
"WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THIS?!"
His voice echoed through the empty chamber.
No one answered.
He stood there, laughing and crying at the same time.
He had destroyed a civilization.
He had killed countless people, including those who had nothing to do with his revenge.
And after everything he had done, he was still alive.
Even death seemed beyond his reach.