The Ectoplasm Heirs

Chapter 2: The First Destructive Breath

The pungent odor of mercury vapor evaporating from dense industrial waste hung heavy over the underground sewers of the Lower District of Mercuria City. The atmosphere inside the old concrete tunnel felt damp, dark, and suffocating. Droplets of toxic chemical liquid fell periodically from the ceiling of rusted pipes, creating a quiet splashing sound that echoed through the silence of the early morning. On the slimy, filthy concrete floor, Zephyr's body lay motionless in a pool of dark green liquid waste.

Consciousness slowly returned alongside a wave of overwhelming pain slamming into every part of his body. Zephyr coughed violently, vomiting up a thick, fishy-smelling ectoplasmic fluid. Every time he tried to inhale the cold air around him, his chest burned as though thousands of invisible needles were piercing his lungs from within. The burning sensation was so intense that his fingers clenched tightly against the cold concrete floor beneath him.

Zephyr's lungs rejected the pure oxygen attempting to force its way into his chest cavity. The respiratory organs inside his body had now undergone a horrifying mutation caused by the fusion of the Ecto-Core with his bloodstream and flesh tissues at the Mercury Cathedral. His organs now demanded the presence of dense, toxic mercury vapor to function properly. With ragged, desperate breaths, Zephyr drew in a deep breath, allowing the mercury vapor evaporating from the surrounding waste to seep into his nose and throat.

Instantly, the burning heat in his chest slowly subsided, replaced by a dark surge of energy rushing fiercely through his blood vessels. Zephyr opened both eyes in the pitch-black darkness of the tunnel. His eyeballs emitted a faint, eerie green glow. The gaping wound on his chest, left behind by Archon Silas's scalpel which had previously exposed his fractured ribs, began to show signs of slow regeneration. The flesh surrounding the wound pulsed gently, attempting to close the open gap using the remaining ectoplasmic energy inside his body.

However, the recovery process required a much larger energy supply than what he currently possessed. The core energy within his chest vibrated unstably, demanding biological nourishment to complete the closure of the fatal wound. Amidst the silence of the damp tunnel, the sound of heavy boots suddenly drew near from the eastern end of the hallway. The sound of iron-soled boots slamming against the concrete floor blended with the quiet hum of a handheld tracking device carried by someone.

A patrol guard of The Mercury Order sect, wearing a dark gray uniform with a gas mask covering his face, emerged from around the corner of the hallway. In his right hand, the soldier gripped a high-powered stun rifle while sweeping a small spotlight in all directions. The beam of light scanned the surface of the sewer walls, searching for the fugitive who had escaped the cathedral's underground dungeon.

The guard's footsteps halted instantly when his beam caught a human body lying covered in ectoplasmic blood near a puddle of waste. The sect soldier raised his rifle higher, standing ready while shouting in a deep voice from behind his gas mask.

"Who is there? Don't move or I will shoot!" shouted the guard as he tightened his grip on the rifle.

Zephyr did not answer the warning. Within the dark shadows of the concrete walls, the muscles in both of Zephyr's legs tensed up. Although his body still felt weak and pained from the new mutation, a burning survival instinct overpowered the physical agony. Without uttering a single word, Zephyr propelled himself forward with unnatural speed for someone who had just suffered severe injuries.

The sect soldier was startled by the swift movement of Zephyr lunging from the darkness. Before the soldier could pull the trigger of his rifle, Zephyr leaped and tackled his enemy, sending them crashing into the sewer wall. The stun rifle slipped from the guard's grip and bounced into a puddle of dirty wastewater.

A brutal close-quarters struggle ensued on the slippery concrete floor. The sect soldier fought to thrash and reach the combat knife tucked into his belt, but Zephyr acted much faster. Using his right hand, now coated in claws of ectoplasmic energy, Zephyr pressed down hard on the soldier's chest to halt his resistance.

The guard breathed heavily inside his gas mask as heavy pressure crushed his chest cavity. Zephyr stared intently into his enemy's eyes behind the misted glass of the mask. In the next second, a stream of pure energy from the sect soldier's body began to drain outward through Zephyr's palm, flowing into him to replenish his depleted stamina.

The soldier's body convulsed instantly, his eyes widening in immense pain as his life essence was forcefully pulled away by Zephyr's new mutation. A stifled groan escaped from behind the gas mask before the soldier's body finally went limp and slumped to the side. The soul energy and body heat absorbed from the enemy rushed through Zephyr's bloodstream, directly channeling their strength into the gaping wound on his chest.

Within seconds, the incision on Zephyr's chest sealed shut completely, leaving behind a hard, steel-like blackish skin tissue scar. Zephyr pushed himself up from beside the lifeless soldier's body. He wiped the remaining ectoplasmic blood from the corner of his lips with the back of his hand, then stood upright amidst the dim emergency lighting of the tunnel.

However, that brief calm did not last. Just as the wound on his chest closed completely, a burning sensation flared up once again from his back. The ritual tattoo shaped like the Mercury wing emblem engraved on his back suddenly pulsed fiercely. The lines of the tattoo emitted a glowing red light that shone brightly through his torn, sweat-drenched clothing.

The red light flickered at a rapid rhythm, transmitting high-frequency waves into the surrounding air. Zephyr gritted his teeth as a sharp pain pierced his spine, as though the skin of his back was being sliced by burning embers. He realized that the ritual tattoo was not merely a mark of cult ownership, but a living beacon signaling his position to all searching forces in the city above.

The pulsing red light illuminated the concrete sewer walls around him, outlining Zephyr's lone figure standing in the chilling silence of the deadly underground district.