The sky burned red.
Not in a poetic sense, but literally—like the air itself had caught fire. The sun had vanished behind a blinding light, and something unnatural had taken its place. Ron stood in the middle of the street, a worn-out duffel bag slung over his shoulder, shielding his eyes as he looked up.
There it was.
Hanging low in the sky like an omen from hell: a massive, glowing object. Smooth. Pale. Unmoving. Like an egg suspended in orbit.
The news had called it "The Egg," and no one knew where it had come from. Scientists babbled on about anomalies, about radiation, about global heatwaves. World governments scrambled to maintain control. But in the end, none of it
mattered. No press conference could cool the heat searing the earth. No expert could explain why people were suddenly turning... into monsters.
It had started just a few days ago. A man collapsed on the metro platform. Foaming at the mouth. Eyes rolling back. Then he stood up again—wrong, twitching, like his bones didn't belong to him anymore. And he bit someone.
That was the first. Now, they were everywhere.
Ron stepped over a scorched power line and tightened the grip on his bag. His throat was dry. His clothes clung to his back with sweat. It was 45 degrees Celsius and climbing. The roads were cracked, warped from the heat, and bodies lay curled like burnt paper along the sidewalks. The city had become a furnace. A graveyard.
He ducked into a narrow alley, the kind that always smelled like piss and spilled oil. Now, it reeked of rot and blood.
He wasn't trying to be a hero. He just wanted to survive. That's what Nokul had told him. "In the end, it's about who can last the longest, not who dies bravely." Ron had worked under Nokul for nearly three years at a hardware store. The man had treated him like a younger brother. A mentor in the most mundane sense—but in a world that no longer made sense, that familiarity was priceless.
That's why it hurt when Ron saw him die.
It happened just an hour ago. They'd barricaded themselves inside the store, surrounded by the infected. Nokul had told Ron to run. "Take the back door," he'd said, handing him a heavy crowbar. "If I go down, you don't come back for me."
Ron hadn't wanted to leave. But when he looked into Nokul's eyes, he saw no fear. Only resolve.
So he ran.
But not before he saw Nokul dragged to the ground, screaming.
Now, alone and dazed, Ron reached the edge of a looted shopping district and found shelter inside a burned-out cafe. The glass windows had melted in places, warped like plastic. Tables were overturned. Blood smeared the walls.
That's when he saw it.
Lying in the corner, nestled between a shattered espresso machine and a half-melted chair, was a glowing green orb. It pulsed faintly—alive, almost. Like it was breathing.
Something about it drew him in. Against every ounce of common sense, Ron walked toward it. He didn't know why. He just knew... he needed to touch it.
And when he did, the world changed.
A sharp pain seared through his palm. His vision blurred, and suddenly he was no longer in the café.
He stood suspended in a red void. An ocean of blood stretched in every direction, thick and still. Above him, the sky was dark and vast, with stars that didn't belong to any known constellation.
Floating in the center of that crimson sea was the same green orb—but now the size of a building, radiating heat and power.
Then, a voice echoed from the orb. Deep. Ancient. Neither male nor female.
"Welcome, Earthling. You have entered the Sea of Evolution."
Ron felt the words inside his bones.
"There are ten stages to evolution. Human. Metahuman. Demi-Human. Numinous... and beyond. You are no longer at the base. You are now a Metahuman."
The voice paused.
"To evolve, you must fill your Life Orb with the energy of fallen creatures. The more you collect, the more powerful you become. Each time your orb shatters and reforms, you rise. Evolve ten times... and you will become something greater than human."
Then, the red world collapsed inward.
Ron gasped and dropped to his knees. He was back in the cafe, his hand still tingling. The orb had vanished, but something inside him had changed. He could feel it—buzzing under his skin, like a second heartbeat.
The silence didn't last.
A distant growl echoed down the empty street outside. Something was coming.
Ron stood, gripped his crowbar tighter, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
If the world had changed… then so would he.