The ground trembled beneath Orin's boots as he trudged through the alien wilderness. His chest tightened with every breath, not from physical exhaustion, but from the suffocating strangeness of it all. He had no idea where he was, how he'd gotten here, or why everything felt so wrong. The trees bent in unnatural angles, their bark shifting colors like glitching pixels. The sky, a sickly red haze, never darkened, never lightened. It just was.
He felt the weight of the silence pressing down on him, broken only by the occasional crack of branches or the distant rustle of something too big to be natural. The sounds were distorted, like they were coming from the wrong direction, or maybe from a different time.
Nothing here made sense. Not the world. Not his body.
He reached up to rub his neck. A faint hum pulsed beneath his skin, like something alive was crawling through his veins. His pulse was... wrong. It wasn't irregular. It was a constant thrum. Almost mechanical. Not blood. Energy.
Something was inside him.
At first, he thought he was imagining it—some side effect of whatever strange dream had swallowed him whole. But every step, every flicker in the corner of his vision, told him that this was real. That the strange, mechanical hum in his chest was only getting louder.
And then, there was that thing.
It appeared from the shadows like a predator stalking prey. A twisted creature—its body was a mess of jagged metal plates and organic, twitching limbs. One glowing red eye glared at him from the center of its twisted head. Orin's stomach churned as it took a step forward, its body jerking unnaturally.
"Target acquired," the creature's voice hissed, distorted as if something was tearing at the fabric of reality itself. "Prototype-Red unstable. Termination authorized."
"Whoa, whoa!" Orin raised his hands, backing up instinctively. "I—I'm not who you think I am!"
The creature didn't stop. It advanced with eerie precision, its limbs snapping forward faster than Orin could react.
Before he could scramble out of the way, one of the creature's limbs struck him in the side, sending him crashing into a nearby tree. His head slammed against the bark. Stars exploded in his vision. Pain ripped through his ribs as the breath left his lungs. He barely managed to roll away, gasping for air, his body sluggish and unresponsive.
The creature stalked closer, slow and deliberate, its steps heavy with malice.
Orin's heart pounded in his chest. A wave of panic surged through him, followed by something... different. The hum under his skin pulsed again. Louder. Stronger. His chest tightened, but not from fear. Something else was rising inside him. Something familiar, yet foreign at the same time.
Chaos Energy detected.
His eyes widened. The words echoed in his mind, and for the first time since he woke up in this twisted world, something clicked.
"Wait…" Orin whispered, his voice trembling as his eyes flitted to the creature approaching him. "This… this isn't real. This can't be real. None of this makes sense."
The creature's red eye glared at him. Its clawed hand lifted, preparing for another strike. And then, in the depth of his panic, something inside Orin broke.
"I don't... want to die!" he shouted, desperate, terrified.
A burst of energy surged through him like lightning. The world around him seemed to freeze, the air thickening like molasses. The creature's limbs stopped mid-swing, suspended in time as the world fractured.
For a moment, Orin didn't know what was happening. He only felt a sense of... control. He was aware of everything. Of the creature. Of himself. Of the hum inside his veins. The humming, electric pulse that filled his entire body, making him feel more alive than he ever had.
He reached out instinctively, feeling the power pulse in his fingers. His voice came again, but this time, it wasn't just a shout. It was command.
"Chaos Control!"
And with that, the world shattered.
Everything froze. The creature, still mid-lunge, its claws stopped inches from his chest. The air hung motionless. The hum inside him grew deafening, vibrating through his very bones. He felt like he could feel time, could twist it, bend it to his will.
The ground beneath him rippled, as though the fabric of reality itself was distorting.
Orin's vision blurred. And then, in the midst of the stillness, something else came.
The memory wasn't his own.
A flash. A girl, blonde hair, blood staining her chest, her face frozen in pain. A scene in a dark, cold corridor. A voice in his ears, calm but filled with despair: "Maria… I couldn't save you."
Shadow?
The thought crashed through him like a tidal wave, but it wasn't just a thought. It was feeling. It was his heart, but not his life. He saw through Shadow's eyes. He felt that moment of loss—the cold, bitter grief of failing someone he loved.
"Maria… No!" The voice was raw with emotion, dark and tortured.
And then, in the next breath, another flash.
Orin gasped. He was eight years old again, sitting in a sterile hospital waiting room, his mother's hand gripping his so tight it almost hurt. He remembered the fear. The waiting. The sense that the world was out of his control, that nothing he did could protect the ones he loved.
The flashes kept coming, faster now. He saw himself at his lowest—alone, confused, hiding behind the screen of a game, pretending he wasn't broken. Pretending the pain in his chest didn't matter. It was all wrapped in the feeling of escaping. Of wanting to be anywhere else but here. Of wanting to feel powerful.
Like Shadow.
His vision returned to the present, and the world snapped back into motion.
The creature was still in front of him, frozen in mid-air, its claws just inches away from his throat.
Orin's breath hitched, his body trembling. He had no idea how long he'd been frozen in time. He'd never felt anything like it. The energy inside him, raw and dangerous, was barely contained. His chest was still vibrating from the power. His heart hammered against his ribs.
But... it wasn't just fear anymore.
He understood. He understood what it was like to feel that loss, that desperation. The need to control everything around him, even if it meant losing himself in the process.
The creature jerked back into motion. Orin wasn't ready. His body wasn't ready. But the hum in his veins wouldn't stop.
Another surge. He reached out again, his hand shaking, and this time, Chaos Control was different. The air around him warped, and before the creature could react, he slammed it backward into the trees, the shockwave rattling the ground.
The thing stumbled, disoriented, but Orin didn't stop. His vision flashed with fragments of memories—Shadow's pain, his anger, his regret—and the overwhelming surge of power that had been locked inside him all along.
But this time, it wasn't just Shadow's power. It was his, too.
"Chaos Control…" Orin whispered again, his voice steadier now, stronger. The world around him slowed to a crawl once more.
And this time, it wasn't a fight to survive. This time, it was a fight to understand