Chapter 76: Regression
Red.
It seeped into Hermes’ world like blood soaking through gauze. It clouded his vision, burned behind his eyes, and clung to every breath he took. He couldn’t hear anything except the rushing pulse in his ears and the deep, bestial voice curling from the corners of his mind.
’You felt it too, didn’t you? The sickness. The cruelty. The glee in their eyes.’
Hermes staggered forward, gripping his head. The voice wasn’t foreign... It did not sound like the gritty voice of his inner beast either.
It was him.
His voice, the beast’s words.
’They screamed for blood. They begged for it. We should give it to them.’
He fought to breathe. His thoughts were slippery, melting between fury and fear. He remembered what Quasar said—that everyone has a shadow, and denying it only makes it stronger.
But this... this wasn’t just a shadow.
It was like an eclipse. The moon covers the sun, placing the world in absolute darkness for a moment.
His body responded before his mind could catch up.
With a crackle of energy, half of Hermes’ body iced over—long, jagged spikes of frozen power sprouting from his arm and shoulder like armor. The other half scorched red, magma webbing through his skin as if his veins were conduits for lava.
His feet lifted off the ground. The crowd’s screams were distant now. Even his own heartbeat sounded like someone else’s.
And then...
The beast took over. It didn’t roar. It didn’t growl.
It simply acted.
With an eerie stillness, the creature that was Hermes turned its head toward the crowd. Its face was still vaguely human... lips, jawline, nose... but expressionless. Hollow. The glow of its eyes dimmed into molten lava.
Then it moved.
An ice dagger burst from its hand. Sharp, silent, and final.
Straight for the old man with the gun!
It struck the old man in the chest, straight for his heart. He coughed out blood before his weak knees gave in and he collapsed, unmoving.
The protesters froze.
The beast didn’t pause. It stepped forward, fire billowing in its throat before spiraling outwards, forming a ring around the crowd. A prison of heat.
A warning.
"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!" They panicked
Then it turned, walked toward the boy, and scooped him up without a word.
"Hermes!" Somner called out, coughing from the smoke.
Fiero cursed. "This damn fire bro! My eyes!"
Cam covered his mouth with his forearm. "We need to put out the fire quickly!"
"On it!" Victorina swung her magical staff on a nearby fire hydrant. Vera helped her, summoning a unicorn made of water to trample on the flames.
Somner tried to use Sirentone to get Hermes to come back. "Hermes! Master! Please, come back! Stop this!"
But the beast did not listen.
In a flash of scorched mist, it vanished while carrying the child in its arms.
***
They reappeared atop a desolate skyscraper.. abandoned steel and glass catching the dying light of day.
Wind tugged at the beast’s hair, though it had no effect. The creature stood perfectly still, staring down at the whimpering child in its arms.
Its eyes showed no affection. No sympathy. No warmth.
It observed the little boy.
The beast was analytical. Calculative.
It does not feel any emotion beside righteous anger or malice. Does not feel any sympathy. But even so...
The boy was limp in its hold, bleeding from the chest. His toy had fallen. The bullet had struck.
The beast looked at the wound, then looked at the child’s face.
The data came quickly:
No threat detected. No violent intent in the subject. No capacity to resist. Weak. Innocent.
And the phrase it had learned from Hermes surfaced:
’It’s not fair.’
A faint hum echoed in the air as the magma cooled and the frost retracted. The beast’s limbs bent inward, then unfolded again... its body morphing into a new form.
Molten red turned gold. Ice shimmered into translucent white.
Its face disappeared entirely, replaced by a smooth, blank surface—like glass untouched by time. From its chest, a hollow cavity opened, revealing a golden clock with black, ancient hands spinning rapidly backward.
The transformation was elegant and terrifying. No crackling. No scream. Just the reshaping of intent.
The beast raised one hand, touched the child’s forehead, and began to rewind him.
The bullet dislodged from flesh. The wound closed. Tiny breaths evened.
But the clock didn’t stop turning.
The skin softened. The bones shortened. The clothes melted into oversized fabric.
The child became smaller... younger... softer.
Until it was only the size of an arm.
Eyes closed. Wrapped loosely in the remnants of his hoodie. A muffled wail rose from his tiny lungs.
The creature tilted its head.
He was alive. He was safe. But different. And perhaps, it is better this way. It will be easier to carry and protect.
The beast didn’t flinch. It didn’t reach out to comfort him. It simply noted the outcome.
And then, it collapsed. It’s job was done, and the body was too exhausted to continue being this way.
But the beast will return.
***
Hermes awoke to cold concrete against his cheek. He blinked. The sky was dull. Gray. His mouth tasted like metal.
He sat up slowly, hands trembling...
Then froze.
Next to him, wrapped in fabric, was a crying infant. The same plush mantis toy lay nearby.
And just inches away—
A bullet.
Blood-streaked. Flattened at the tip. No longer lodged in flesh.
Hermes’ breath hitched. He pieced it together fast. Too fast. His mind raced. He had used Rewind.But the beast didn’t understand limits. It didn’t know when to stop.
It saved the boy.
And then it regressed him.
"No..." Hermes whispered, picking up the baby with shaking arms.
The child opened his eyes... bright and blue. Familiar. But empty of memory.
Hermes looked at the skyline, still wreathed in smoke. Somewhere down there, the others were searching. Panic probably spread, and the authorities have probably arrived to question them.
Questioned them about the murder.
He had to go.
Now.
He cradled the child tighter and ran for the edge of the building, summoning wind beneath his feet. He didn’t know how to explain this. He didn’t know what it meant for him.
He only knew one thing:
There was only one person who might understand... who could fix this before it’s too late.
He jumped from building to building while holding the baby swaddled in its former clothes, and headed for the top floor of The Golden Apple building.