The rain didn't start with thunder.
It came in silence, like a curtain falling over the world. One minute, Marcus Chen was pacing the front of his classroom, talking about combustion reactions and trying to ignore the flickering lights overhead. The next, a red mist was falling outside, clinging to the windows like bloodied breath.
"Must be the smog," he muttered, squinting past the glass. But deep down, his stomach had already twisted. Something about the color—it wasn't right. Too vibrant. Too alive.
Students laughed nervously as phones buzzed with emergency alerts. He didn't need to check his own. The fear was already crawling under his skin.
And then Kaylee screamed.
He turned just in time to see her collapse onto her desk, her eyes rolling back, fingers twitching violently as if her nerves were being rewired in real time. The skin on her arms bubbled like oil on a skillet. Veins pulsed black.
"Kaylee?!" he shouted, rushing toward her—but stopped short.
Her jaw split. Literally split. From chin to forehead, peeling open like a grotesque flower, rows of needle-sharp teeth glinting in the classroom lights. She snarled, a sound Marcus would never forget, and launched herself at the boy beside her.
Chaos exploded.
Chairs crashed. Students ran. Screams tangled into a single, suffocating roar. Marcus grabbed the emergency bat from the wall and shoved a desk in Kaylee's path, buying seconds—barely.
The lights cut out.
Outside, the red rain fell faster.
He ran. Through the corridor slick with blood, past lockers dented from something slamming against them. He ducked into the chemistry lab, slamming the door behind him.
Then came the footsteps. Heavy. Inhuman.
The door creaked open.
And there stood Principal Harrow—if you could still call him that. Nine feet tall, back hunched, claws dragging along the linoleum. His face—a mask of sagging flesh and teeth where eyes should be—twitched when it saw Marcus.
"Why not me?" Marcus whispered, staring at his own hands. Soaked. Stained. But still human. Why?
The thing roared.
Marcus braced for death.
Then the voice came—not from the room, but inside his skull:
[EVOLUTION SYSTEM ACTIVATED][EMERGENCY SURVIVAL MODE ENGAGED][FIRST EVOLUTION AVAILABLE][ABSORB PREDATOR SPEED?]
It didn't feel real. But nothing else did, either. "Yes," he gasped.
The world became heat. His legs buckled, then snapped straight as pain lanced through them, every tendon slicing and re-knitting in the blink of an eye. He screamed. Then he stood. Taller. Stronger.
Faster.
When Harrow's claw ripped through the air, Marcus wasn't there. He was behind him—instinctively. Moving like lightning.
[EVOLUTION SUCCESSFUL][DEFEAT THE PREDATOR TO UNLOCK MORE ABILITIES]
The system voice vanished, replaced by the sound of his own breath, steadying. He grabbed a jagged beaker from the counter. Not much. But enough.
Harrow turned.
Marcus moved.