PHOENIX

2. The Auction

The grand auction hall was bathed in flickering golden light, illuminating the high, gothic ceilings adorned with ancient chandeliers. Rows of velvet-covered seats lined the vast chamber, occupied by creatures of the night and beings of untold power. The air pulsed with raw energy—magic, hunger, and anticipation blending into something almost tangible.

At the far end of the room, a raised platform stood beneath a grand archway, where the main attraction of the night would be unveiled. Heavy chains rattled behind the thick steel curtain as the handlers prepared the "merchandise" for presentation.

Experiment 21.

The first of his kind. The only human to have survived The Trial—a series of gruesome experiments performed since he was nothing more than an embryo. His body had been reforged, sculpted into something unnatural. He could breathe underwater like a mermaid, thrive on the blood of beasts like a vampire, and navigate the darkness with the sharp vision of a werewolf. A creature built to be superior to his own kind.

A weapon. A prize.

The creatures in the hall whispered among themselves, their voices laced with greed, fascination, and, for some, unease.

A group of sirens and merfolk lounged on the left, their iridescent scales shimmering under the dim lights. Their oceanic scent carried the sharp tang of salt and blood, their blackened eyes gleaming with predatory interest.

To the right, vampires sat in elegant silence, their expressions unreadable. Their skin, pale as marble, reflected the candlelight like polished stone. Unlike the merfolk, they did not whisper among themselves; they merely observed, their crimson eyes locked onto the stage, their hunger an unspoken thing in the air.

Werewolves took up an entire section, their massive forms lounging in half-shifted states, golden and amber eyes glinting like embers in the dark. Some were stretched out lazily, claws tapping against the armrests, while others sat forward, eager to witness the specimen bred to withstand conditions that would kill even the strongest of their kind.

At the center of it all, the fae, witches, dwarves, and shapeshifters were scattered among the wealthiest bidders. Some dressed in extravagant robes adorned with ancient symbols, others cloaked in shadows, their very presence warping the space around them.

Then, the lights dimmed, and the crowd fell into a hush.

A voice rang through the hall, smooth and commanding.

"Ladies and gentlemen... creatures of the old world... welcome to tonight's most prestigious auction."

A tall figure dressed in a crisp black suit stepped forward onto the stage. The auctioneer. A fae, if the sharpness of his features and the glimmer of mischief in his eyes were anything to go by.

"Tonight, we offer something truly... extraordinary," he continued, his voice dripping with amusement. "A being unlike any other. A human no longer bound by the limits of his fragile race. A creature who has conquered death itself."

With a dramatic wave of his hand, the steel curtain lifted.

Chains clanked, and from the shadows emerged the boy—Experiment 21.

He stood at the center of the stage, shackled, wrists and ankles bound with enchanted steel. A metal collar rested around his neck, pulsing with glowing runes meant to keep him docile. His body, once frail and malnourished, now carried the signs of his transformation.

Pale skin, almost translucent, stretched over lean muscles. His fingers twitched slightly, the tips ending in nails that looked sharper than they should have been. His eyes—once dull—gleamed under the dim lighting, pupils shifting like a predator adjusting to the darkness.

His lips were slightly parted, just enough to reveal elongated canines.

Yet, despite everything, his expression remained eerily blank.

"Behold," the auctioneer declared, gesturing toward the captive boy. "The perfect hybrid. A masterpiece of science. He breathes underwater as effortlessly as the ocean-born." The merfolk leaned forward in interest.

"He feeds on the blood of beasts, adapting to the diet of the eternal." The vampires' lips curled in intrigue.

"And he sees in the darkness, no different from the creatures of the night." The werewolves exchanged knowing glances, impressed despite themselves.

The auctioneer let the words settle before his lips curled into a wicked grin.

"And now, let the bidding begin."

The room erupted in a frenzy.

Gold, relics, entire kingdoms were offered. Every supernatural being in attendance wanted him—for power, for study, for the thrill of owning something never before seen in the world.

And through it all, Experiment 21 remained silent, his head slightly tilted, his eyes scanning the room. Observing. Calculating.

Waiting.

For what, none of them knew.

But if they thought he was nothing more than a prize to be won...

They were gravely mistaken.