Jordan could still remember the day his mother left.

It was a warm afternoon, but to him, it felt like winter had settled inside the house. He was only seven years old, standing at the front door, clutching the edge of his shirt. His mother knelt down to hug him, her perfume soft and familiar. But her voice was trembling.

“I love you, Jordan,” she whispered.

He didn’t understand then — not until she stood up, tears in her eyes, and walked out. His father called after her, but she never turned back.

That was the day something in Jordan cracked.

From then on, he learned to hide the ache behind jokes and smiles, burying the hurt so deep that no one could see it. It became his armor.

Eleven years later, the world saw him as the handsome, playful guy with the easy grin. Green eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. The kind of guy who made people laugh without even trying.

Today was supposed to be a good day. He had just graduated high school — cap, gown, and all.

That night, his father called him into the kitchen. “Jordan,” he said, leaning against the counter, “I’ve decided to retire from the lab. Been doing this too long. I want to clear out my office, and… I could use your help tomorrow.”

Jordan grinned. “Sure. I’ll be your moving crew. As long as I get paid in pizza.”

His dad chuckled, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

The next afternoon, they drove to his father’s private lab — a sleek, dimly lit space filled with shelves of strange devices, tanks of glowing liquid, and stacks of handwritten notes.

Jordan was halfway through boxing up books when his dad called out from across the room. “Jordan, can you grab the specimen from the containment chamber? It’s in that large tube on the far side.”

Jordan wandered over. The tube stood upright, about the size of a closet, with a glass door that hissed softly as he stepped inside. Strange lights glowed faintly in the corners.

“Like this?” Jordan called.

From across the room, his father’s hand hovered over a red button.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Just like that.”

He pressed it.

The glass door sealed shut with a sharp hiss. Jordan’s smile vanished as blue light flooded the chamber, bathing his skin in an eerie glow. A deep hum filled his ears, vibrating through his bones.

“Dad? What’s going on?”

The hum grew louder. Strange patterns began to crawl across his skin, burning for a second before sinking deep beneath the surface. He felt his heartbeat racing, his muscles tightening. It was as if something inside him was… changing.

“Your DNA,” his father murmured from the console, his voice cold and detached. “It’s rewriting itself.”

Jordan pounded on the glass, fear rising in his chest. “What are you doing?!”

His father didn’t answer. He only watched.