Chapter 2 - Joel's Evolution Orange
Joel sat amid the wreckage, the orange flicker still dancing faintly along his knuckles. His breathing had slowed, but his mind raced. The raw power coursing through him—it wasn't natural. Not for a man like him.
But it felt right. It felt like justice was waiting to happen.
His thoughts drifted, as they often did, to the queen. To the rotting sickness she let fester in the kingdom. To the endless grief she watched from her throne, unmoving, untouched.
The blood on her hands was invisible, but Joel could see it clearer than ever now. His father's pale face haunted him, the same way his mother had when he was just a boy. They were both gone. The plague was spreading. And the crown did nothing but tighten its grip.
"I won't let it keep happening."
Joel stood slowly, staring out the cracked window as the last of the sunset bled into the horizon. His mind sharpened. His grief twisted into something colder—focused.
"The first thing I'll do is roundup a team of people... Fighters. Survivors. This power... whatever it is, it came for a reason. I can feel it—it's not just mine. It's connected to something more. And I'll use it."
He flexed his fingers, the orange energy sparking once again.
"We'll beat the guards... kill the queen... end her reign."
But then, reality struck him just as hard.
"And one of us will have to pay for it, a needful sacrifice."
Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling shakily. His pulse pounded in his ears. Someone would have to take the fall. Someone would have to die for justice to be served.
"If it has to be me... then so be it."
The power crackled again. This time, he didn't flinch.
He was ready to start planning.
An orange glow flickered from the corner of his eye.
Joel froze. His pulse skipped.
The figure drifted past the broken door frame—tall, humanoid, but distorted, like candlelight twisting in the wind. It radiated the same strange energy he'd felt in his hands, that unnatural force that had surged when he wrecked the room.
It didn't speak. It didn't look at him. It just… lingered.
Then it turned.
Not fully, just enough that the outline of a face—a smooth, featureless mask with empty eyes—seemed to glance his way.
Joel's rage twisted into sharp, burning curiosity.
"What... is that?"
The figure began to move again, gliding soundlessly out of view.
"Hey!" Joel barked, standing abruptly. His chair scraped against the wooden floor. "Get back here!"
The figure didn't stop.
Joel's instincts flared. Without thinking, he gave chase, boots thudding against the old wood as he rushed through his battered home. The glow lingered ahead, always just out of reach. Each step closer, the air around him seemed heavier—like the space itself was warping.
"This power... is it you?"
The figure finally halted near the window, silhouetted against the dying twilight. The mask seems clearer now, split down the middle, one half smooth, the other scarred and cracked like the surface of the meteor shard.
Joel reached for it—
And the figure rushed into him.
A surge of heat exploded in his chest. His vision blurred with streaks of orange, the same power flooding through his veins.
A voice—no, not a voice, a feeling—echoed in his mind:
"I am yours. Evolve."
The cracks in his knuckles flared with the same fiery light, sparking energy dancing along his skin.
Joel staggered back, gripping his wrist as the power expanded—he could feel it now, like a part of him.
"What the hell...are you?"
The figure was gone.
But he knew it hadn't disappeared.
It was inside him.
And it was just waiting to be understood.
As Joel pores over his plans, plotting the downfall of the queen, the room falls into an eerie silence. His mind races—how to form a team, who to trust, the best route to take. But then, a shadow passes over the room. The light shifts, like something—or someone—has crossed in front of the window.
Joel's heart skips a beat. He glances toward the glass. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. An animal-like figure standing just beyond the window, its shape darkened by the moonlight.
For a moment, time feels as though it slows. The air turns colder, and an unexplainable dread crawls up his spine. The figure—tall, with an unnatural stillness—stands like a sentinel in the night, its presence exuding malice.
The silhouette shifts slightly, revealing a glimpse of sharp, predatory eyes. It watches him, unmoving, waiting.
Joel swallows hard, his instincts screaming at him. But before he can react, the figure disappears into the night with the same silent menace, leaving only the lingering tension in the air.
Joel freezes as he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the floor above. His heart pounds in his chest, his senses heightened. Could it be a burglar? A thief? In the dead of night, it's all too possible. But there's something about the sound, something off. It doesn't seem like someone looking for valuables... it's too deliberate.
He rushes downstairs, his breath shallow and his mind racing. First, he checks the living room—nothing. Then the dining room—empty. The kitchen. No one. The basement... quiet as a tomb.
Then it happens. The sound of running feet echoes above him, faster now, almost inhuman, racing across the wooden floors of the second level. Panic grips him. His heart slams in his chest. Whoever—whatever—this is, it's fast, and Joel is no match for it.
Suddenly, as if a floodgate has opened in his mind, a vision hits him. A sharp, vivid image that sends a chill through his spine.
A reddish figure crouches low on the first floor, just a few rooms away. The form is warped, ethereal, yet unmistakably real. It watches him from the shadows, a sinister aura radiating from it. Its eyes glow faintly in the darkness, like a predator waiting to pounce.
Joel's hand instinctively moves toward his pocket, but the shard from the meteor isn't there. Instead, he feels the heat building in his palms, like an invisible force surging through him. It's not just fear—it's something else, something connected to that eerie cherry-colored figure.
The vision flickers and warps, but Joel knows what he saw. The figure is real. And it's not here for a simple robbery.
He has located the trespasser. He creeps upstairs and crawls to where the red figure was camping at.
All of a sudden, a blue dog charges at him and trips him over. It vanishes into the darkness before he vanishes. He feels a pang of confusion.