"I had to take a break for work reasons...don't ask, I'm already tired enough."
_______________________________________________________________
Kaine lay in his cell—if "lay" could even describe it.
The room was as lifeless as it could get. Dark grey walls, smooth and cold. A bed that was barely more than a slab, no blanket, no pillow, nothing that even pretended to be comfortable. An open toilet sat in the corner like an afterthought. The door was solid, sealed tight, with only a narrow slot at the bottom for food.
No windows.
No camera.
That part made sense. One mutant with the wrong ability and the entire system would collapse overnight. So instead, they relied on thick walls, heavy doors, and the constant presence of armed guards.
And for most people?
That was enough.
Kaine dropped silently from the ceiling.
A thin strand of webbing snapped back into his wrist as he landed without a sound, stretching his neck slightly like someone waking up from a decent nap.
"Yeah… being alone this long isn't exactly helping with the habits," he muttered.
Because yeah—he didn't sleep on the bed.
Never had, never would.
Instead, he hung upside down like something out of a nightmare, completely still, wrapped in his own webbing. It wasn't even uncomfortable anymore. If anything, it felt right. Natural in a way that the bed never could be.
That was the problem, though.
Every little thing like that reminded him—he wasn't really human anymore. Not fully.
Still… it had its perks.
Kaine walked over to the wall, using the faint reflection in the metal surface like a makeshift mirror. It wasn't great, but it was enough.
"…Huh."
He leaned in slightly.
His face hadn't changed much—but it had, at the same time. Something sharper around the edges. The kind of look that didn't belong to someone his age.
His hair, though?
Yeah, that was a mess.
Longer now. Curling more than usual, brushing past his shoulders. Two weeks locked in here would do that.
"…Getting annoying."
Without hesitation, something shifted under his skin.
From his forearms, two sharp stingers slid out smoothly, tearing through flesh like it didn't even matter. Black with faint red lining, rigid like bone. The "Fang of Kaine."
Blood dripped lightly down his arms.
He didn't react.
Didn't even blink.
Carefully, he brought one of the stingers up and started trimming his hair, strands falling in uneven clumps into the sink… and then into the toilet when he was done.
It wasn't clean. It wasn't stylish.
But it worked.
A few more precise cuts, a slight adjustment—
"…Good enough."
The stingers slid back in just as easily as they came out, leaving behind small trails of blood that were already starting to close.
Kaine gave his reflection one last look, tilting his head slightly.
"Maybe when I'm older, I'll try facial hair…" he muttered. "…Nah."
For a second, his expression shifted.
Not bored.
Not empty.
Something sharper.
"I'll save everyone," he said quietly, like he was testing the words. "No one dies here. I'll make sure of it."
A grin spread across his face—wide, sharp, almost unnatural.
And then—
Gone.
Just like that.
Back to the same dull, uninterested look he always wore.
"…Yeah. That doesn't suit me."
Right on cue, the sound of heavy locks clicking echoed through the hallway.
Boots. Voices. Metal sliding against metal.
Morning rollcall.
Kaine didn't move right away. Just stood there for a moment, listening, feeling the rhythm of the place waking up again.
Two weeks.
That's how long he'd been here.
Two weeks of mapping routines.
Guard shifts.
Weak points.
Patterns.
People.
Everything was almost in place.
And today?
Kaine exhaled slowly, eyes half-lidded as the cell door finally began to unlock.
Today was going to be fun.
Because he was very close to a perfect escape.
_________________________________________________________________
[Auther: Since Alternate Mutant World is going to be quite a while, I don't plan on this little detour lasting longer than chapter 25.]