Infamous Shifter’s Genesis

After nearly two hours of testing Sasha realized that while she could use the infiltrator to manipulate the tar, it could not, however, produce any tar on its own. That was something she would need to do or fill it up with tar to give the illusion it could. She mentally made note of the limitation, but it didn’t bother her much. Manipulating the tar over such a long distance did drain her a little, but only slightly. It wasn’t enough to be a concern, especially given how easy it was now compared to before.

That realization brought a smirk to her face. It meant she could have the infiltrator handle the fight with Cole, with minimal involvement on her part. While she remained hidden, the infiltrator could serve as a perfect body double, moving and fighting as if it were her, all while she controlled the tar remotely.

Sasha spent the next hour testing her abilities further. She marveled at how effortless everything felt now. The tar manipulation, the infiltrator’s movements—everything seemed to flow naturally, almost instinctually. She even toyed with the Dark Stalker, finding ways to command it remotely while simultaneously controlling the infiltrator.

Once satisfied, Sasha made her way to where Damian was relaxing on a worn-out chair, his posture deceptively casual. She tilted her head, studying him for a moment before asking, "Are you tired?"

Damian looked up, smiling faintly. "Just tired."

Sasha raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I don't feel tired at all. Could you...?"

Damian shook his head, standing up and moving toward her. "Not physically tired, just a bit drained." He placed his hand on her shoulder, and as his fingers touched her skin, they shifted into a mass of biomass. Sasha felt a ripple pass through her body, the area he touched shifting as well, though there was no pain. A brief moment later, Damian withdrew his hand.

"I just handed over the DARPA agent’s DNA and memories to you," Damian said with a casual grin. "You should be able to get through the checkpoint now. They’re expecting a snack run or something, so you’ll probably have to steal some from a shop when you head over."

Sasha smirked, amused. "Steal some snacks, huh?"

Damian nodded. "They might get suspicious if the disguise is used too often. I’ve been gone a long time, so if you go through, do it only once. After that, you’ll need to figure out another way to get back."

Sasha's smile widened confidently. "That won’t be a problem."

With everything prepared, Sasha left the supply shop, her form shifting seamlessly into that of the DARPA agent. She adjusted her stride, posture, and even the subtle movements of the agent's body language to perfect the disguise. As she approached the bridge that separated the Neon District from the Warren, she moved with the calm assurance of someone who belonged.

Before she could cross, a DARPA agent approached her, his expression curious but stern. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Sasha, keeping her cool, quickly fabricated a story. "I'm here to pass on some high-priority orders."

The agent seemed to relax, his suspicion fading. But Sasha wasn’t taking any chances. As he lowered his guard, she discreetly touched the side of his face, secreting a small amount of tar. The connection was instantaneous, and the agent fell under her control without even realizing it.

"Take me through the checkpoint," Sasha commanded, her voice low but firm. "And if anyone asks, it’s classified business. They don’t need to know the details."

The agent nodded obediently, his expression vacant. He turned and led her toward the checkpoint without a second thought, clearing the way for her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As Sasha made her way through the Warren, blending in seamlessly as the DARPA agent, she suddenly encountered a man standing in the middle of the street. He wore a patchwork of scavenged items—an old quilted jacket, parts of discarded clothing, a trash bag draped over his head, scrap metal strapped to his body like armor, and combat boots. The makeshift garb was topped off by more garbage bags serving as a crude mask. The man held a submachine gun, and his eyes burned with hatred as he pointed it at her.

"Government scum!" he spat, and before Sasha could react, he opened fire.

The bullets tore through her body, sending her crashing to the ground. Pedestrians screamed in terror, scattering in every direction as they fled the scene. Black and red goo spilled from Sasha's bullet wounds, oozing across the pavement like oil. The man cautiously approached her, eyeing the strange substance as it spread. Confusion flickered across his face as he leaned down to inspect it.

In that moment, the goo lashed out, transforming into a sharp tendril that shot straight through the man’s head. He collapsed instantly, dead before he even hit the ground. The tendril retracted, merging back into Sasha’s leg as she calmly stood, her body completely healed as if nothing had happened. Without sparing the body another glance, she continued walking down the street, unfazed.

As she moved further into the Warren, her attention was drawn to a small, broken-down lock store that had clearly been looted. Curious, Sasha decided to investigate, hoping to find a few snacks to maintain her cover. Stepping through the shattered door, she quickly scanned the shelves but found nothing. The place had been picked clean by scavengers. She shrugged, not particularly bothered, and headed for the bridge connecting to the Historic District.

At the checkpoint, she was greeted by Charlie, a fellow DARPA agent who eyed her with suspicion. "Where are the snacks? And why’ve you been gone so long?"

Sasha hesitated briefly before stumbling over her words, trying to sound convincing. "The Dust Men attacked me... I barely made it. Needed some help."

Charlie's eyes widened in concern, and he rushed over, his professional demeanor giving way to worry. "Are you okay?"

Sasha seized the opportunity, touching the side of his face as she had done before. The moment her fingers made contact, she released a small amount of tar, establishing control. "Let me through," she whispered, "and forget I was even here."

Charlie blinked, his expression going blank for a second before nodding. "Right. Go ahead. You’ll need another pass for the next checkpoint."

Taking the pass from him, Sasha walked through the series of checkpoints with ease, her disguise holding perfectly.