Hello everyone, I have opened a discord server for those who want to join, the link is in the description of the story.
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I start to feel a strange sensation running through my body, and it deeply disturbs me because it's different from anything I've felt since I arrived in this world, and it ruins the sleep I had taken refuge in.
So, instinctively, I slowly begin to wake up to avoid any nasty surprises my body might give me.
Well… "slowly" is a bit of a stretch, because in reality, my brain first decided to emit a system error beep before rebooting the OS in safe mode — imagine a kind of constant vibration in the brain.
The first step is to try to open my eyes, but I can only manage it halfway: one cooperates while the other protests with an intensity even my high school PE teacher wouldn't have dared at the time.
I hurt all over, but I can easily guess it's related to the evolution — it's not my first — but this time, it's different. Because the pain spreads mainly in my back, and especially at the extremities of my body.
And I feel… cold? Hot? Both at once?
I don't know what's happening, but my blood seems to be circulating along two different patterns. At least that's how it feels, and I find it quite concerning.
I slightly turn my head to see if I was moved by some creature wanting to eat me, and I look at the ceiling of the labyrinth — still as welcoming as ever with its glowing mushrooms and brownish moss dripping down — staring back at me with a… moldy look.
I start sitting up little by little to avoid putting too much strain on my body, as I don't fully know it yet — there must have been some changes considering the evolution name.
And just like last time, I feel extreme hunger after evolving. I suppose that's one of the constants after each evolution: absolute hunger.
I'll have to plan food in advance the next time I evolve if I don't want to starve.
[ Evolution was successful. ]
Perfect, Senpai is back too — the unknown evolution doesn't seem to have had any negative effects on him, and he seems to be in top shape. Even without him for a short while, I missed that little virtual bastard.
"Well slept?" I mumble with a raspy voice.
[ Your overall condition is stable. No secondary blood anomalies detected from the evolution, but the previous one is still present, though regulated. ]
"Well, that's something. I don't need even more problems than I already have."
Because with this "dragon-parasite" still in my bloodstream, I'm scared for my life. But it's "regulated", huh. Sounds like a pet the way he says it.
Well… I have several priorities right now.
First, I need to find food fast so I don't die of hunger.
Second, I need to find a reflection to see what I look like — not like last time when I struggled like hell.
Because I don't want to run into a monster in my current body without having trained even a bit — I'd end up as monster-kebab.
I stumble out of my moldy little cave, dragging my feet like a zombie in famine season.
[ Endurance level partially restored. Energy prioritized toward bodily adaptation. ]
"Oh. Great. I'm literally a mutant fridge with a blinking engine."
I keep moving, my gait unsteady, joints creaking.
No sign of monsters, and that's already good news.
Then suddenly, I come across a slightly wider corridor.
And, oh miracle: an old, sweaty stone mirror.
Well… not really a mirror. Just a stagnant puddle, but clear enough to recognize my ugly mug.
I crouch at the edge and lean in.
And then…
"Is it just me or do I have…"
WHOOSH
"HUH?"
I am literally launched into the air.
My feet leave the ground, my arms flail in the void, and before I even understand what's going on…
BAM.
The labyrinth ceiling greets me like a brutal mom with a smack to the skull.
I end up plastered against the stone, upside down, limp legs, screaming back.
"WHAT THE HELL—!"
I try to turn my head, but gravity denies me that privilege. Then I suddenly fall, free-falling… and stop just a few centimeters above the ground, right in front of it.
And I get launched back up to the ceiling.
"What!?"
My back slams hard against the stone, but to my surprise, I don't spit blood. Maybe my body got stronger with the evolution?
And while I'm trying to figure out what's going on, I feel something moving in my back. And it's something… warm and alive!? It spreads across the whole back part of my body.
And then, my brain kindly sends me the image I glimpsed in the reflection, just before the aerial launch:
Wings.
Freaking wings.
"You've got to be kidding me."
[ Bodily modification detected: functional dorsal appendages. Hybrid racial attribute identified. ]
"Senpai, you could've warned me, dammit!"
[ I thought spontaneous flight would put you in a better mood. ]
I groan and suddenly my body gives out and I crash to the ground like a sack of potatoes, undignified, eyes closing.
Beep Beep Beep
Beep Beep Beep
I groan, still half-asleep, and sink deeper into the pillow. Please, just five more minutes. Five tiny little minutes, I beg you.
And right at that moment, the door slams open.
"...!!"
I don't need an alarm. I have something better: my mom, with the temperament of a demon.
I jolt upright, heart racing.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. I glance at the alarm clock and realize the time. It's so late!
I overslept… and she noticed.
"Do you see what time it is?!" she yells as she storms across the room.
"You think we raise you to sleep like a tramp while I work?!"
She grabs me by the arm before I can say a word and yanks me out of bed without even bothering to be gentle.
The impact against the floor wakes me up for real.
And honestly, who needs caffeine when you've got free physical humiliation?
"HURRY UP!"
She throws my clothes in my face.
"And if you're late, it's not the school I'll yell at — I'll beat the crap out of you even harder tonight!"
A beam of sunshine crosses my half-broken window, lighting her face. That of a lunatic.
I nod without replying, as always, because I prefer to keep my head down and survive the day.
Only to repeat it all again tomorrow.
Why doesn't Dad do anything?
Ah, Dad…
His situation's worse than mine, and he just lowers his eyes.
I hear him in the next room. His chair creaks, and he starts coughing.
He doesn't intervene today.
Because he never intervenes.
But I don't really blame him, because he suffers even more than I do.
And the one time he tried to intervene, he ended up with worse injuries than mine...
I change quickly, without lifting my eyes from the floor.
My uniform still reeks of cheap detergent and school anxiety.
My arm hurts, where she grabbed me, but it's nothing.
It's never anything.
I leave the house without even touching the bowl of cold rice that was waiting for me.
Appetite? I've learned to live without it.
And anyway, it's probably expired.
Outside, the street is quiet. Too quiet. I'm already ten minutes late.
But at least here, there's no yelling.
I take advantage of this brief moment to put my earbuds in and listen to some music on the way.
It helps me disconnect from the world and cope with all the harassment my mother inflicts on us.
But my watch starts beeping, a sign that I'm getting more and more late, so I decide to run toward school, legs weak, stomach empty, soul half-rotten.
And yet...
Everything feels normal.
Maybe too normal.
But I don't realize it yet.
The school gates stood in front of me, wide open like a gaping mouth ready to swallow me whole.
I slowed down.
Not because I needed to catch my breath — well, a little — but mostly because I absolutely didn't feel like walking through that gate.
Another day of avoiding stares, pretending everything's fine, surviving on half-baked sarcasm and smiles that sting your teeth.
A group of students passed by me without a word. As usual.
I'm not exactly the school's star.
And honestly? Good.
Spotlights are for normal people.
Me, I'm the emergency light that flickers in the third-floor bathroom.
I adjusted my backpack strap mechanically, grimacing.
It was digging into my shoulder.
I had forgotten to empty it since Friday. Again.
A math textbook weighed down on my spine like a divine punishment.
In the courtyard, everything seemed to run with the precision of a Swiss watch:
The athletes were kicking a ball hard enough to resolve their daddy issues.
The popular girls were competing to see who could laugh the loudest.
And me, the little shadow on the side, avoiding puddles and conversations.
I was about to climb the steps of the main building when I saw him.
The principal.
Mr. Hinode.
With his shiny bald head, his tie way too tight, and the look of a man who hasn't slept since the 2008 education reform.
He gave me a blank stare.
I gave him the same one back.
Polite exchange between survivors of a rotten system.
Then I walked in.
The hall always smelled of disinfectant and damp chalk.
The scent of nightmares in Room 1-2.
I walked past the bulletin board. Nothing new.
Same announcements, same clubs recruiting, same absent teachers.
And always that weird feeling.
Like someone had redrawn my school from blurry memories.
I shook my head.
Not the time to lose it.
Not before the first class.
Except the further I walked, the more things felt off.
But I kept walking anyway.
Because that's what we do, right?
We keep going.
Even when everything screams that it's not normal.
Time at school passed strangely fast, between gym class in a half-ripped uniform and math class with teachers who were tired of life.
Even though I hate school, I prefer it to home.
You could say I took refuge by talking with friends… but I didn't have any.
I was someone very unsociable, and my personality didn't appeal to many.
When the school day ended, I had to go home.
And the evening fell, like a lid on an overfilled pot.
Dinner was on the table: rice, overcooked vegetables, a sauce of unknown sanitary origin.
No one spoke.
Dad came home a little later than usual. He looked… drained.
Hollow eyes, drawn features. He dragged his feet as if they weighed tons.
He sat down, avoided Mom's gaze. And mine. As always.
Then, mid-meal:
"My salary… is going to be reduced."
He said it like he was announcing the weather.
As if it didn't mean anything.
As if it didn't mean: less money, less food, more anger.
Mom froze. Spoon in hand, suspended mid-air.
Then she exploded.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
I clenched my teeth. Here we go again… once more.
"He said… it's temporary…" Dad tried, his voice weaker than usual.
"He needs to cut costs, because of overheads."
"AND WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO CUT?! BEATINGS?! DIGNITY?!"
Her hand slammed the table, knocking over a bowl.
She turned to me.
And I knew it was my turn.
"And you, little worm, what are you staring at?!"
She grabbed me by the uniform.
"This is your fault! All you do is eat and sleep, and he's killing himself for nothing!"
I tried to back away, but she hit me.
Extremely hard.
I was thrown to the floor.
"Mom…?"
I hadn't done anything. But she probably wanted to unleash her anger on me, because if she hurt Dad, she'd end up with even less money.
And then…
Dad stood up.
He stood between her and me.
Arms spread. His gaze — for once — firm.
"Stop."
And the world seemed to stop with him.
Dad… had, for the first time, stood up for me.
I should have been happy.
But I knew he would suffer for that decision.
Mom stepped back. Slightly. Shocked by this senseless act.
Then she turned around without a word, bumping a chair.
The meal ended in a silence as tense as a suspension bridge cable.
I ended up going back to my room to sleep, after that awful dinner.
I started doing my homework, even assignments that were due much later, because my mom wanted me to "succeed" at school.
Even though I always had bad grades.
It was past midnight, and I hadn't closed an eye.
The pillow smelled like anxiety and old soap.
And then… voices.
Muffled shouting, downstairs.
They were going to fight again, at this hour…?
I slipped on my hoodie silently and went down the stairs slowly, like a ghost in its own house.
And there, at the foot of the stairs… I saw her.
My mother.
Her back hunched. Her breathing short.
And in her hands… a knife?
A knife buried in my father's chest, who was collapsing slowly, his eyes wide open, as if he couldn't believe it himself.
A gurgle. A red stain on the floor.
I wanted to scream. Cry. Run to him.
Help him.
But I was afraid.
Afraid of being beaten to death.
Afraid of ending up like him.
So… I did nothing.
I didn't call the police.
I didn't speak up.
I went back upstairs.
Silently.
I closed my door, and lay back down, tears in my eyes, unable to sleep all night.
Heartbroken over my father's death.
And when morning came,
when I left for school…
I didn't say a word.