A distant chorus of groans and muffled cries dragged Aren back from the brink of unconsciousness. His body felt battered, every muscle aching. Bruises covered his arms, and his head throbbed with a dull, relentless pain. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as though a weight were pressing them down. Forcing them open, his right eye managed to focus slightly on the hazy blur of flickering lights and twisted metal. His left side remained dark, though he couldn't yet comprehend why.
What happened? His thoughts felt sluggish and scattered, but fragments of memory began piecing themselves together. The train journey—the bizarre, shimmering chain in the sky, the explosion of light. He could still feel an eerie, lingering echo of that strange energy in his body, as if it had fundamentally altered something within him.
Suddenly, his vision filled with a series of translucent screens, lines of text scrolling across them rapidly:
[Detecting energy... Activating system][System activated... Scanning host]
[Commencing adaptation... Completed]
[System booting]
The words made little sense, but before Aren could even begin to process them, a sharp pain shot across his face. He gasped, and the sudden intake of breath sent a jolt of agony through his chest. Raising a trembling hand to his left eye, he felt something warm and sticky—blood. His fingers brushed against a jagged piece of metal lying next to him. Confusion clouded his thoughts—had the metal caused this? Slowly, it dawned on him that the shard must have sliced through his brow and his eye.
A wave of panic struck as he realized his left eye wouldn't open. I can't see! Complete darkness consumed his left side, and his mind spiraled with fear—what if he was blind forever?
The train carriage around him was in chaos. Seats were torn from their fixtures, windows shattered, and personal belongings lay scattered everywhere, like memories abandoned in haste. Dim emergency lights bathed everything in a crimson glow, illuminating injured passengers—some groaning in pain, others heartbreakingly still.
"Help… someone," a weak voice called out nearby.
Aren turned his head, wincing as pain shot through him. The darkness on his left side made it hard to gauge his surroundings. He spotted a young woman pinned beneath a collapsed luggage rack a few seats away. Strands of chestnut hair clung to her pale, sweat-streaked face, her bright green eyes wide with fear but still holding a fierce determination.
Ignoring his own pain, Aren began to crawl towards her, shards of glass crunching beneath his hands and knees. "Are you okay?" he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper.
She managed a faint nod, though her face twisted in pain. Despite the situation, there was a resilience in her eyes—an unwillingness to give up that gave Aren a glimmer of hope. It was the same determination that had driven her to pull herself upright despite her injuries, her jaw set with a fierce resolve that belied the chaos around them. "My leg… it's trapped. Please, help me."
"Hang on." Aren positioned himself beside the twisted metal, gripping it tightly. His arms shook as he tried to lift the debris, and for a moment, it felt hopeless. His strength was failing—his energy drained by the injury and chaos around him. Just as despair began to take hold, a strange warmth surged through his body again—that same energy—and a sudden burst of power followed. With a grunt, he managed to lift the luggage rack enough for the woman to pull her leg free.
She exhaled in relief, attempting to sit up. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft but filled with gratitude.
Aren offered his hand to steady her. "Can you stand?"
She tested her weight and winced. "It's sprained, but I think I can manage." Her gaze lingered on his face, concern flashing in her eyes as she noticed the blood. "You're hurt."
Aren forced a smile. "I'm fine. It's not as bad as it looks." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.
She tore a strip from her sleeve, her hands steady as she pressed it against his wound. "At least let me help. I'm Elara, by the way."
"Aren," he replied, wincing as she tightened the makeshift bandage. Her touch was gentle but sure, her movements confident despite the chaos surrounding them.
A low groan echoed from the far end of the carriage, drawing their attention. They both turned. A man was struggling to his feet, his movements shaky, almost mechanical."Maybe he needs help," Elara suggested, her brow furrowed with concern.
Aren hesitated, a chill creeping down his spine. "Something doesn't feel right."
Before they could act, the man turned towards them. Under the dim emergency lights, his face became visible—his skin was pallid, his eyes hollow, dark veins spreading across his skin. A foul, rancid smell emanated from him, making Aren gag, and a low, wet gurgling sound escaped his throat, heightening the sense of horror. He let out a guttural growl, his head tilting at an unnatural angle before he began moving toward them with alarming speed.
"Get back!" Aren shouted, stepping protectively in front of Elara.
The man crashed into the seats between them, his fingers clawing at the debris, his eyes devoid of recognition or humanity.
"What's wrong with him?" Elara gasped, her voice edged with panic.
"I don't know," Aren replied, his heart pounding. "But we need to move. Now."
He grabbed her hand, his grip tight as he fought through the pain. They scrambled away from the approaching figure, Aren's legs feeling like they might give out at any moment, while Elara's breaths came in quick, panicked bursts, her eyes darting to every shadow around them. As they moved towards the rear of the carriage, more passengers began to stir—but each one resembled the man, their eyes empty, their movements jerky and hostile.
"They're all like him," Elara whispered, fear evident in her voice.
Aren's mind raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "We have to help them," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "Maybe they're confused—"
He reached towards a woman who was swaying unsteadily. "Ma'am, can you hear me?"
The woman snapped her head towards him, her lips peeling back to reveal bloodstained teeth. With a hiss, she lunged at him, her fingers clawing for his arm.
Aren stumbled back, almost losing his balance. "Okay, definitely not okay!"
An infected passenger blocked their path to the emergency exit. Elara tugged on his arm. "This way!" she urged, pointing to a narrow corridor leading to the next carriage.They darted through the doorway, slamming it shut behind them. Aren wedged a fallen metal bar into the handle, hoping it would slow their pursuers. Behind the door, they could hear the frantic pounding and scraping, the guttural growls growing louder, sending chills down their spines. Each thud against the door reverberated through the narrow corridor, emphasizing just how close danger still was.
Breathing heavily, Elara looked at him, her eyes wide. She fought to keep her composure, her hands trembling slightly as she brushed her hair away from her face. "What is happening?"
Aren shook his head, wincing at the pain it caused. "I have no idea. But whatever this is, we need to get out of here."
They navigated through the next carriage, which was thankfully empty. The train had derailed, and the floor was tilted, making each step precarious. Sparks flickered from exposed wires, and the smell of smoke hung heavy in the air.
"Over here," Aren said, pointing to an emergency window exit. Together, they managed to pry it open.
Climbing out, they found themselves on a steep embankment. The surrounding countryside was bathed in an otherworldly glow, the sky painted with swirling colors that defied explanation.
Elara stared upward, awe and fear mingling in her expression. "It's like the whole world has changed."
A chilling howl pierced the air, drawing their attention back to the train. Several of the infected were clambering out of the wreckage, their erratic movements disturbingly persistent.
"They're coming," Aren said urgently. "We need to run."
Elara nodded, and they hurried down the embankment into a dense grove of trees. The canopy provided some cover, and soon the sounds of pursuit grew fainter. A wave of tentative relief washed over Aren, but it was mixed with the lingering tension of knowing the danger was still out there. He could feel his heartbeat slowly ease, though the fear was never entirely gone.
As they wove through the forest, Aren's injury began to take its toll. His steps faltered, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him.
Elara noticed and guided him to a fallen log. "We have to stop, just for a moment. If you collapse, we're done for."
Aren reluctantly sat down, breathing heavily. Elara examined the gash over his eye. "The bleeding's slowed, but we need to clean it to prevent infection."
She rummaged through a small bag she'd grabbed, pulling out a water bottle and a cloth. Carefully, she cleaned the wound, her movements precise. "I was coming back from a first aid seminar," she said, a small, ironic smile on her lips. "Guess it came in handy."
Aren managed a faint smile. "Lucky us."
Once she was done, they sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation settling over them.
"Back on the train," Aren said, breaking the silence, "did you see… messages? Like words appearing out of nowhere?"Elara looked at him, surprised. "Yes. Something about activating a system, and evolution. I thought I was losing my mind."
"Me too," Aren admitted. "But maybe it's connected to all of this. The chain, those people… us waking up."
Elara nodded slowly. "It has to be. Somehow, everything changed. And we're right in the middle of it."
A rustling in the underbrush snapped them back to attention. They held their breath, but it was just a small animal scurrying through the leaves.
"We should keep moving," Elara said, standing up.
Aren nodded, rising slowly. His right eye adjusted slightly, but the left side remained dark. He still couldn't fully grasp what had happened to his vision, and the uncertainty gnawed at him. "Do you think there are others like us?"
"Awake and not... like them?" She gestured back toward the train. "I hope so."
They pressed on, the forest around them growing denser. The ethereal glow filtering through the leaves cast intricate, almost eerie patterns on the forest floor, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Aren couldn't help but feel a chill running down his spine—each twisted shadow seemed to hide some lurking threat. He glanced at Elara, noticing the tension in her clenched jaw and the way her eyes darted nervously, betraying her struggle to keep calm in the face of the unknown.
After a while, Aren couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves heightened his anxiety, each sound amplifying his sense of vulnerability in the dark, unpredictable forest."Did you hear that?" Elara whispered.
Before he could respond, a figure stepped out from behind a tree—a man, disheveled but alert, holding a makeshift spear.
"Stop right there!" the stranger commanded, his voice carrying both fear and authority, as if he had been in similar situations before.
Aren raised his hands defensively. "We don't want any trouble," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, though tension gripped him.
The man's eyes darted between them. "Are you... normal?"
Elara took a cautious step forward. "We're not like those people from the train, if that's what you mean."
He lowered his spear slightly. "You saw them too? The ones that turned?"
"Yes," Aren confirmed. "Do you know what's going on?"
The man shook his head. "No clue. Name's Tom. Been wandering these woods since I woke up. You're the first sane people I've met."
Elara offered a tentative smile. "I'm Elara, and this is Aren."
Tom nodded. "Good to meet you both. Strength in numbers, right? We should stick together if we want any chance of surviving."
Aren hesitated for a moment. Trusting a stranger in a situation like this felt risky, but they didn't have many options. He glanced at Elara, who gave a slight nod, and Aren decided to go along with it.
Aren glanced at Elara, who gave a slight nod. "Agreed," he said.