Loud cheers woke up Denver. His entire body jerked at the sudden sound that assaulted his ears. He found himself in a basketball game, and the crowd had just gone wild. On the court was a group of young men celebrating their win. The buzzer resounded in the background, but the people's lively cheering made it sink out of earshot.
Denver remembered this scene, which was engraved deep in his memories. This was the last time he saw Jackie playing professional basketball. Their supporters had grown alive at Jackie's buzzer-beater shot. Jackie's team was now a point higher, making them the winner.
"I can't believe they've made it!" Denver's mother laughed as she patted her chest. She sat next to him in the lower box seats. "I really thought they'd lose. It's good that Jackie is the best!
"Denver, what are you doing? Did you just fall asleep?" She noticed the dullness of Denver's reaction. He didn't even make a noise when Jackie's shot made the basket. How disrespectful. On their side of the court, he was the only one who remained still.
"No, I… I saw it…" Denver couldn't help but lie. He worked a thirty-six-hour shift. Today was supposed to be a day off, but his mother dragged him into one of Jackie's games.
Like other bastard children, Jackie Turning was 'sponsored' by their biological father. He lived where their father told him to live; he went wherever their father told him to go. Jackie was a golden child, but he never grew arrogant. In fact, he kept sharing his wins with his mother.
However, this only made him a lot more elusive to her. Their mother could only see him when their father was too busy to bring him somewhere. Every time he did, it was as if his homecoming. The smiles on their mother's face would be the fullest, and Denver's image would be the faintest. It was as if she only had that one son.
Regardless, Denver didn't abhor his little brother. Neither did Jackie disrespect him.
Denver stared at the big screen overhead the court. The cameras zoomed in on Jackie's winning smile, definitely dubbing him the MVP for this game. A smile curled Denver's lips. He had always wanted to see that golden smile in person again.
This evening was the last in the world he knew. It was the same night the mimics launched attacks in multiple cities, beginning their invasion.
"Jackie… where are you?" Denver murmured. The scene dimmed as if he were waking up from his dream. "Where can I find you?"
…
His body and mind slowly roused from his sleep. When Denver opened his eyes, he saw the ceiling of their building's infirmary. He could hear indistinct voices as if people were discussing his state. His head moved to find his mother and the nurse at the far right. Next to his bed was Mr Ross's bed, whose occupant suffered from some burns and cuts.
Denver sat up on his bed. He wanted to greet the others to stop them from worrying. However, he suddenly felt like something pulsed inside and around him. It was as if his heartbeat synchronized with something colossal.
"What's happening?" He touched his face and felt the smooth surface. "Didn't that mimic melt my face off? I don't seem hurt anywhere. My neck should have been crushed…
"I should be dead…!"
Denver flung his body to the side, falling off the bed. A few gasps followed his crash. When Denver sat on the cold floor, he saw someone standing before him. His mother looked down at him without a word.
The son flinched. He didn't think his mother would show up so close. She normally glared at him from afar as if he made mistakes one after another. He got up. "I'm sorry… I panicked…"
The nurse walked towards them and huffed with her arms akimbo. "Who wouldn't panic? You said you were fetching Mr Ross. It was Mr Ross who brought you here instead. Why would you pass out in the middle of an alley? The marauders could have seen you."
"…I don't remember anything…" Denver lied and tapped into his acting skills. When his hand covered half his face, he recalled every second that happened in that alley. That mimic was too frightening. It was best for everyone not to know about it for now.
"What about your scar? Does it hurt?" the nurse asked.
"Scar?" Denver flinched again, but the nurse only nodded.
The man walked to the small wall mirror at the end of the room. When his tired face showed up, he quickly noticed a suspicious scar around his neck. It was darker than his skin, but the difference in complexion was too hard to notice. The scar was also as thick as a handspan. He had been staring at this neck his entire life. This thing had only appeared today.
Denver's eyes narrowed. He remembered how that mimic grabbed his neck with its mutated hand. Could it have left a mark on him? No one freaked out over it, however. The nurse even called it a scar as if it were an old injury.
[Congratulations on activating the Symbiosis System! You will now be evaluated. Your class will dictate your skills and degree of survivability. Please wait…]
A strange androgynous voice echoed in his mind, shocking Denver awake. He secretly looked around for its source. However, no one was close enough to make that noise. The man slowly moved his gaze back to the mirror. His eyes looked strangely redder than normal. He leaned closer as if examining his eyes.
[Congratulations! You have earned the Track Hunter Class! Your Symbiont Grade is… Superior Predator! Your survival rate is… 70%! Quickly raise your skill ranks to improve survivability.]
Denver flinched. He felt the scar, which looked like a thick neckband wrapping around his neck.
'Am I hearing things? What does it mean, Track Hunter?'
[Opening index… Track Hunter! Categorized as… Symbiont Class. Available grades… Predators. A Track Hunter is proficient in stalking its prey and dealing killing blows. Stealth and precision are its main weapons. This class is weak against surprise attacks and forced encounters.]
Deep breath.
Denver could only take a deep breath for now. A strange voice plagued his mind, and he was hallucinating. That mimic should be responsible for this. Should he hunt it?
He rejected the idea after a few seconds. He didn't know how to kill regular mimics. Unique breeds should be harder to get rid of. Right now, he should focus on keeping the hallucinations from distracting him. They just lost someone who could venture out. Another one was bedridden in the infirmary. If he were unlucky, he might have to train some women.
He didn't have any problems with females. It was only because their building's female population was not the type to volunteer and leave the safety of the building. If anything, Ashley Ross could be the only one brave enough to insist on leaving.
A sigh escaped his lips. He had bigger troubles than that mimic. He even suspiciously gained a system.