Chapter 3: The Rust Tide

Ian stood before the bathroom mirror, her fingertips gently pulling open the eyelid of her right eye.

A few crimson veins traced the surface of her eyeball, a dry, stinging ache spreading from deep within. The mirrored silver glint reflected by her pupil flickered; she took a soothing eye solution from the pocket of her lab coat and tilted her head back, letting two drops fall.

She was exhausted. Three days ago, after dealing with Ye Mi’s incident, the exploration team had delivered three creatures to the containment facility, keeping her so busy she was nearly spent.

—Perhaps just as Ye Mi once was?

That thought surfaced without warning in Ian’s mind. The girl who had been working for the company since she was fifteen; her file recorded that for five consecutive years, she slept less than six hours each night, until an accident took her sight completely.

Before going blind, did Ye Mi also push herself so hard her eyelids could barely stay open? What was she thinking after that day? How did despair swallow her whole?

“...”

Ian shook her head, banishing the thought. Before her mind could breed compassion and sympathy, she scattered all distractions.

As the last drop of soothing liquid entered her eye, the icy sensation awakened the silver entity within, and Ye Mi, sharing senses with it, shivered involuntarily—a faint silver gleam flickered through Ian’s eyes.

She straightened her uniform and stepped out from the dormitory toward the containment area.

Ian’s quarters were integrated with the monster containment facility; from the dormitory, a wide glass corridor—spacious enough for small transport vehicles—led directly to the containment zone.

It was enormous.

For the first time, Ye Mi, through Ian’s eyes, saw the structure clearly.

The corridor gave way to walls forged from heavy alloy, with iris-recognition security gates every ten meters. Ian’s retinal information was scanned thrice, and Ye Mi quietly observed it all through her gaze.

She noticed the containment facility’s security was formidable.

The first line of defense was the resident security team, all equipped with OC Corporation’s custom exoskeleton armor and the latest firearms—though Ye Mi had no idea how powerful those guns were, since no one had ever attempted an escape.

The second line was mechanical: spider-shaped robots called “Sweepers,” with eight extendable, morphing mechanical legs and bodies covered in electronic eyes, appearing and vanishing in silence.

“A fortress of steel and stone,” Ye Mi thought.

The tighter the defenses, the more dangerous the captives—perfect for her plan.

Ian’s biometric data had long been familiar to the facility’s smart system; she passed unhindered, traversing the monster prison Ye Mi had previously glimpsed, and arrived at a sealed, square chamber.

It appeared as though two floors had been hollowed out and joined, containment rooms stacked irregularly, and at the center stood a colossal metal pillar, its platforms designed for personnel transport—extending and retracting to deliver staff in front of each cell.

To Ye Mi, it resembled an unfinished giant hive.

“Take me to Zone B-3.”

Ian stepped onto a platform and issued her command, swiftly arriving at her intended destination.

The platform spiraled upward, reaching the topmost level, where three containment rooms awaited.

Hands in her lab coat pockets, Ian gazed through reinforced glass at the three creatures before her.

Ye Mi observed them as well through Ian’s eyes.

Designated ETM-009 through 011, these were the three anomalous beings that had kept Ian awake night after night.

Ian’s gaze first settled on the leftmost cell.

[ETM-009: Shadow Dancer]
[First Containment: May 26, 2082]
[Location: Second District Grand Theater]

The Shadow Dancer’s room had been remodeled into a circular stage, twelve explosion-proof spotlights ringed the dome, and at the center, a humanoid shadow stood en pointe, still as a forgotten wax figure.

It wore a tattered black swan ballet costume, faded crimson ribbons at collar and cuffs, and where a face should be, only a smooth patch of shadow remained.

Ian approached the control panel for Cell 009 and ordered, “Dim the lights to minimum. Begin vitality test.”

One by one, the spotlights extinguished, darkness enveloping the stage as if a grand drama was about to unfold in the theater’s gloom.

Ian activated the night vision mode in her artificial eye.

The Shadow Dancer’s outline blurred, merging with the darkness; Ian held her breath, watching the edge of the black shape—along with the stage itself—slowly exude fine black threads, writhing like living things.

“The stage is part of its body?”

Ye Mi scrutinized the Shadow Dancer, dissatisfied. “So far, aside from its stealth and odd appearance, there’s nothing especially notable.”

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Almost as if it sensed her thoughts, the Shadow Dancer twisted like stirred ink, its limbs contorting into inhuman curves, spinning rapidly as it hurled itself at the reinforced glass.

Fortunately, the Defense Bureau’s facilities were sturdy enough; the impact produced only a chilling screech, leaving the glass unscathed.

“Log: ETM-009 exhibits increased activity in darkness, possibly entering a predatory state.”

Ian swiftly gave the order to restore the lights. Intense illumination flooded the cell.

The Shadow Dancer’s movement ceased abruptly, the spreading shadows retreating in a wave to its feet, solidifying once more into the stage and the dancer’s still pose.

Ye Mi, observing this, mentally crossed it off her list. “Its weakness is glaring—strong light renders it feeble. Useless.”

Her silver entity was far too weak now to control Ian’s actions; if she hoped to escape, she needed a powerful ally.

The Shadow Dancer was not a candidate.

Ian moved to the next cell.

[ETM-010: Flesh Nursery]
[First Containment: May 26, 2082]
[Location: Second District Paradise Isle]

Ye Mi could imagine how revolting this creature was just from the white text description on the cell screen.

Her suspicions were confirmed: inside, the Flesh Nursery writhed slowly.

It resembled a peeled, gigantic amalgam of organs, its surface covered in pulsing veins and inexplicably crushed meat pulp. On closer inspection, Ye Mi could distinguish some prominent organs.

Heart, liver, lungs, intestines, limbs... everything stacked into a bloody cake.

If she didn’t know it was a monster, Ye Mi would have thought it was a pet blogger preparing cat food.

“Conduct feeding test.”

At Ian’s command, the metal plate atop the cell slowly parted, leaving an opening just large enough for a mechanical arm to drop a sheep inside.

Almost instantly as the sheep landed, the Flesh Nursery swelled violently, a scarlet tentacle darting out like lightning, dragging the sheep into its body and devouring it completely.

Its surface convulsed, as if a greedy maw was endlessly feasting.

Ye Mi found its behavior reminiscent of her former corpulent boss at mealtime—equally greasy and repulsive, utterly unappealing to someone who prized beauty.

Were it possible, she would have forced Ian to leave the cell immediately.

But Ian was utterly unaffected, intensely focused on the Flesh Nursery, as if ready to dissect it at once.

From a scientific perspective, Ye Mi admired Ian’s dedication.

Seconds later, a horizontally slit eyeball popped out atop the Flesh Nursery, its pupil rotating, fixing a direct gaze on Ian through the window.

“Log: ETM-010 indiscriminately devours food; after the third feeding, new sensory organs appear, indicating notable evolutionary traits requiring sufficient conditions.”

Ian frowned; its growth rate was alarming, faster than she’d anticipated.

“Potential for evolution... but the conditions seem demanding, requiring large quantities of flesh-based organisms.”

Ye Mi couldn’t help but add internally, “Disgusting—parasitic nightmares, a pile of revolting garbage.”

Unless absolutely necessary, Ye Mi would not consider it for parasitic takeover.

A complex emotion rose within her—having first seen the worst option, she worried she might end up with it, but still hoped for something better.

Now, all hope rested on the third creature.

A metallic screech interrupted their thoughts; ETM-011, unwilling to be ignored, slammed itself against the reinforced glass.

Ian obliged, moving to Cell Eleven, which was notably smaller, suggesting the creature inside was not large.

A humanoid form clad in rusty metal crouched before the glass, meeting Ian’s gaze at close range.

[ETM-011: Rust Tide]
[First Containment: May 26, 2082]
[Location: All Regions]

Rust Tide’s body was littered with iron shavings; its head lacked facial features, only a pair of camera-like electronic eyes pieced together, oddly fitting.

At its chest, a human heart of exposed flesh pulsed slowly, each contraction accompanied by a faint electrical hum.

Ian’s eyes fell on Rust Tide’s right arm—just now, it had reformed into a sharp metal blade, striking the glass. When the glass showed no change, the blade quickly dissolved, morphing into a hammer.

From this, Ye Mi immediately recognized Rust Tide’s intelligence—it was at least smart enough to attempt escape.

Thus, Ian gave it “special attention.”

“Issue containment warning.”

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Without hesitation, she ordered, and a jet of strong acid sprayed from the cell walls, covering Rust Tide.

It let out a piercing shriek, its metal shrinking and corroding under the acid.

The warning halted its actions instantly.

“Begin evolution test.”

Ian hadn’t forgotten her purpose at the facility; as with the previous tests, she issued the command.

A ceiling hatch slid open, and a combat robot—Falcon—descended, its titanium alloy shell reflecting a cold blue sheen under the lights.

Falcon could transform its arms into wing-shaped, razor-edged blades, with retractable functions—an ideal bodyguard robot, worth at least two million credits.

Rust Tide suddenly froze.

Not in dormancy, but a deadly focus—its heart slowed dramatically, nearly stopping, the silence suffocating.

Its body silently dissolved into a rust storm, enveloping its heart and lunging at Falcon. Rust spots bloomed across Falcon’s supposedly sturdy metal plates, decaying and peeling like a disease, then swept up and absorbed by the storm.

Falcon’s tactical AI emitted shrill electronic screams, but the Rust Tide storm obliterated everything, even Falcon’s mechanical energy core.

Soon, Falcon became part of Rust Tide’s body, the storm reassembling into a humanoid shape, now with a left arm resembling Falcon’s blade.

“Log... ETM-011 demonstrates remarkable cross-species assimilation, new entity retains optimal traits of consumed targets.”

As Ian finished speaking, a communication request arrived—a man’s holographic projection appeared.

“The exploration team that brought back Number Eleven reports its body structure changes at an astonishing rate; each reformation brings it closer to a perfect form.”

The man was Raff, who had brought Ye Mi the Mother Plan days before; she remembered his voice.

Ian pondered, “Perfect form? How do you define that? Human appearance?”

Raff shook his head, pointing at the human heart in Rust Tide’s chest: “It’s centered on that. Doesn’t it seem familiar?”

“The synthetic heart used in company combat androids,” Ian replied confidently.

“Exactly. It’s a remnant of metal reformed within the Light Ruins—no idea why it turned out this way, but its behavior is tightly linked to the metals it absorbs. This Rust Tide took in a synthetic heart, clearly showing a fierce desire for combat.”

Raff paused, then continued, “But that’s not the most important thing—the key is... they are a collective.”

“There are countless metals and androids in the Light Ruins.”

His words left Ian in uneasy silence.

Undoubtedly, this Rust Tide was extremely powerful—without portable strong acid capable of corroding metal, it would be very hard to handle.

And such a powerful, intelligent creature was part of a group?

“Reportedly, the strongest known Rust Tide group now rivals human B-class espers.”

[S, A, B, C, D, E] were humanity’s current classification for espers; after two years, most had evolved to at least C-class, with the elite reaching B or A. Still, fewer than thirty were known at B and A level.

S-class was unique—only one existed, leading humanity’s advance into the Light Ruins.

“Headquarters wants you to focus on Rust Tide after finishing the Mother Plan; the other two will be handled by subordinates. I’ll send their full dossiers tonight.”

Ian nodded, still shocked, “Understood.”

Ye Mi had already decided.

It would be Rust Tide!

Her ally needed two traits:

First, it must be able to grow strong enough within thirty days to break into the Defense Bureau and retrieve her body.

Second, it must be suitable for parasitic takeover before evolving.

Rust Tide was ideal.

Metal was everywhere in the Light Ruins, guaranteeing its evolution.

Her next step was to find a suitable Rust Tide for parasitic takeover.

It wouldn’t be long before Ye Mi, using Ian’s upcoming research focus, would overturn the monster containment facility completely.

With that thought, Ye Mi’s spirits lifted.

Thank you, Dr. Ian, for your false kindness.

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