It didn't like being submerged. It wasn't because it sent a faint tingle throughout it's entire form, which in turn made ever single cell feel as though it was on the verge of slipping away, nor was it because of the cold, which it hardly paid any mind to. It was because the water, moving water, made it hard to pinpoint any prey. It's whole body, if it could be called that, radiated with an endless wave of hunger. It needed to infect. It needed to consume.

After what had felt like a long while, it felt itself brush against something rough. Solid. Spurned solely by the need to hunt, to feed, to devour, it latched onto the pillar with thin, black tendrils laced with the faint glow of crimson veins. The surface, concrete, offered very little resistance as it crawled it's way out of the water and over a sharp edge. From there, it waited.

It could sense food nearby. The warm signatures stuck out like a beacon amidst the dark. They scurried too and fro, just missing the black pulsating ball as they warily skirted around it. It currently didn't have the energy to force a chase. It was aware that it if lashed out too quickly, it's prey would run off and never return. It would be left alone with this gnawing hunger and nothing to satiate it. It was best to wait patiently for one of it's food sources to get a little too curious before ensnaring it.

So wait it did, and true to the predictions that it wasn't even aware it had, the prey lurked closer and closer. Then it got too close and it latched out.

Tendrils dug greedily into flesh. The prey squirmed, just as it was anticipating, but it wasn't keen on letting the creature go. It's food wasn't even strong enough to hold a candle to it's strength, despite how insignificant it's current size was. It's infection spread rapidly through the prey; a rat, as some tidbit of knowledge sparked, and pulled the the flesh into itself. The virus was quick to reconstruct the DNA to match it's own. His own.

He could think a bit clearer as his biomass shifted and swirled. It was slow going, slower than it should have been, but his body began to gradually reform into it's original template. The arms, the hands, the leg, and feet. The last part was his head, which he could sense creating the familiar bone structure. He could hear the rushing water as his ears mended and detect a rather disgusting and powerful stench when his smell returned. His thoughts strayed as he narrowed his location down to the one possible place he could be. When his eyesight returned, a deep scowl settled on his features.

Alex Mercer had found himself in the damn sewers.