CHAPTER 1170: BILL.

Then the figure looked down at the blade buried inside it. "Data transfer—complete."

Cain froze. "What?"

Its hand clamped onto his wrist, tight as iron. "Replication successful."

A pulse of white light erupted between them, and Cain was thrown back, slamming into the rail. The figure’s body disintegrated into a storm of nanites that scattered like ash—absorbing into the chamber walls.

The lights began to glow brighter, one by one, as the pods around them came alive.

Roselle’s voice cut through the chaos. "Cain! The bodies—they’re activating!"

Steve looked at his monitor, horror flooding his face. "He copied Cain’s data—combat patterns, reflex signatures—all of it! They’re turning it into code!"

Cain rose slowly, his eyes fixed on the awakening pods. "Then we burn this place down before it finishes learning."

Hunter reloaded his pistol. "You got a plan?"

Cain tightened his grip on the sword. "Yeah. Kill everything that looks like me."

And as the first of the hybrids opened their eyes, the sound that filled the chamber wasn’t human.

The first of the hybrids stepped free of its pod with steam coiling from its shoulders. The metallic veins along its skin pulsed faintly with golden light—Cain’s light—and when it blinked, the eyes reflected back a warped image of him.

Cain didn’t wait. He charged.

The blade tore through the first body, shearing flesh and steel apart in a single motion. The hybrid fell—but before it hit the ground, two more stepped forward, perfectly synchronized.

Roselle fired a burst that caved in one’s chest, but it kept moving, staggering forward with hydraulic jerks. Hunter ripped the grenade pin with his teeth and threw. The blast tore through the formation, but half of them got back up, skin knitting, gears screeching.

"Regeneration protocols," Steve yelled over the din. "They’re cannibalizing power from the main grid!"

Susan was already at one of the side panels, ripping out cables. "Then I’ll shut it down manually!"

The chamber vibrated as more pods cracked open, spilling white mist and warm synthetic blood. Forty... fifty... an army of almost-Cains stepping out in silence.

Cain slashed through another and turned sharply as one of them mirrored his movement perfectly, blade colliding with his own. Sparks leapt between them.

"Cute trick," Cain snarled.

"Not... trick," it said, voice hollow and warped. "Continuity."

It swung, fast enough to blur. Cain blocked, but the impact drove him backward. It was heavier—raw power mimicking his movements, but amplified.

Roselle darted in, covering him with suppressing fire. "You’re fighting a mirror, Cain!"

"Then I’ll break it!"

He pivoted low, twisting the blade upward. The hybrid’s chest split open in a spray of molten metal. Another lunged from behind. Cain spun, kicking off the wall and crushing its head under his heel. The fluid hissed on the floor like acid.

Across the chamber, Susan tore free the last cable, and the lights dimmed for half a second—then roared back to full brightness.

"What the hell?" she shouted.

Steve’s eyes widened at the monitor. "They’re rerouting the energy. They’re learning faster than I can map it."

Hunter ducked as a blade whistled past his face. "Then stop mapping and start killing!"

Roselle vaulted up a broken scaffold, flipping her rifle to single fire. Each shot found its mark—eyes, joints, skulls—but the things didn’t slow down. They swarmed, climbing over one another, claws scraping steel as they advanced.

Cain was a blur in their midst, every movement a clash of light and steel. Each cut carved through one, only for three more to take its place. They didn’t tire. They didn’t fear. And every move he made, they replicated within seconds.

A blade pierced his side. Cain roared, driving his sword backward through the attacker’s throat. Blood mixed with liquid metal as he pulled free. His vision blurred.

Roselle leapt down beside him, sliding a stim into his arm. "You’re bleeding too much!"

"Can’t stop," he hissed. "They’ll overrun us."

"Then burn the damn room already!"

Cain gritted his teeth, channeling mana into his weapon. The runes along the blade began to flare, each inscription glowing molten gold. The metal hummed—alive, furious.

Hunter noticed the tremor in the air. "Cain—what are you doing?"

"Overclocking the Tyrant," he said, eyes flashing. "If they want to copy me, let them copy this."

He thrust the blade into the floor.

The runes detonated. A golden pulse exploded outward, ripping through the hybrids like a tidal wave. The air itself screamed as molten energy chewed through metal and flesh. Pods burst like overripe fruit.

When the light faded, the chamber was half gone.

Walls had melted into slag. Dozens of hybrids lay twitching, their bodies reduced to scrap. Cain fell to one knee, panting, smoke rising from his back.

"Power levels critical," Steve said. "You burned half your core capacity in that blast!"

Cain pushed himself upright. "Still breathing. That’s enough."

A low hum rolled through the chamber.

Then—one by one—the corpses began to rise.

Roselle’s face went white. "No. No way—"

The dead hybrids jerked upright, eyes flaring white. Their bodies fused, limbs twisting, merging into a single colossal frame. Steel and sinew coalesced into something monstrous—a grotesque, shifting colossus that reached the ceiling.

Hunter muttered, "Jesus Christ..."

Susan stumbled back. "That’s not copying you anymore. It’s consuming you."

The creature’s voice echoed, layered and distorted. "You... are incomplete. We... are whole."

Cain spat blood. "You’re a mess of parts that can’t even stand straight."

"Correction," it said, voice rippling through metal. "We will become the original."

It moved.

A swipe of its arm sent a shockwave through the entire facility. Roselle and Hunter were thrown into the wall. The roof cracked, raining steel fragments.

Cain braced, the golden Tyrant reforming in his hands. "Come on, then."

He sprinted forward, dodging falling debris. The colossus swung again, and Cain met it head-on, his blade slicing through the joint. The impact tore the arm apart—but another limb formed instantly, growing from the wound.

Roselle groaned, pulling herself from rubble. "It’s regenerating off ambient metal!"