Dylan felt a click somewhere deep within the limbo of his consciousness. Like a mental lock snapping open. And then—he saw them.
Not with his eyes. Not really. It was more like… an overlay of mental images. As if his mind were projecting a map of his own body. And on that map, they were there.
Thousands of them.
Tiny.
Like translucent worms, embedded in his nerves, coiled in his muscles, slithering between tendons. They weren't intelligent. Not really. They were made of raw instinct. Simple parasites.
Their only goal: to spread. To claim territory. Cell by cell.
"That's all you are, huh?" he muttered mentally, with an inner grimace. "Just an infestation."
He tried to flex his muscles. To shake his mind. To eject those things from inside him. But they clung. They latched onto his nervous system like ticks, absorbing, infiltrating.
And then—it burned.
