Chaos

Sora lay on the cold floor, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a boulder. The memory of the man he killed—the life he took—flooded his mind, threatening to drown him in a wave of shame. He could feel his body trembling, but he clenched his fists, forcing himself to breathe. He didn't have time to fall apart. He couldn't let the overwhelming guilt consume him.

"I can't afford this…" he muttered to himself, pushing through the emotions with sheer willpower. His voice was rough, low, as if trying to convince himself that this was true. Slowly, he pulled himself up from the floor, each movement heavy with exhaustion. The world around him seemed blurry for a moment, but he blinked rapidly, clearing his vision. He had to stay focused.

Roper, his loyal companion, watched him closely, the large dog's altered form towering over him. She had always been protective of Sora, and even in her current massive state—her once sleek body now bulging with muscle and fur bristling in places—she stayed close, her dark eyes filled with a mixture of loyalty and concern. She nudged Sora with her nose, sensing his distress but staying silent.

"We're outside now," Sora said, his voice soft but determined. "Might as well find some food."

Hunger gnawed at him, a reminder that survival wasn't just about escaping danger—it was about the basics too. Food, water, shelter. It all felt so basic, but in a world gone mad, finding even the simplest things had become a challenge. Sora's stomach growled, but he ignored it for now, focusing instead on the task at hand.

He and Roper moved cautiously through the building, their footsteps quiet against the hard floors of the apartment complex. Sora checked each room they passed, but most of them had been looted already. Drawers were left open, their contents strewn about. Cabinets were bare, and anything that could've been useful was either gone or spoiled.

His frustration was growing. They needed food, and time was running out. But as they ventured further, Sora noticed something strange. The air was thick with tension, and his senses were picking up faint noises—soft murmurs of conversation, the rustling of clothes, and the unmistakable sound of footsteps nearby.

They weren't alone.

He turned a corner and saw them—a group of people huddled together in one of the apartments. Their clothes were dirty, their faces tired and gaunt from days of fear and running. These were evacuees, survivors just like him. But when their eyes fell on Roper, their reactions were immediate. Some gasped in horror, their faces pale with fear.

One man, standing closest to the door, took a step back, his eyes wide with terror. "What the hell is that?" he stammered, pointing at Roper with a trembling hand.

Another woman, holding a small child close to her chest, instinctively backed away, her grip tightening protectively around her daughter. "It's a monster!" she cried out, panic seeping into her voice.

Sora stepped forward, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Wait, wait—she's not dangerous," he tried to reassure them, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The man at the door turned and bolted, running out of the apartment as if his life depended on it. A few others followed him, their fear overriding any sense of reason. Within seconds, half of the group had fled, leaving behind only those too weak or too desperate to run.

Sora sighed heavily, the tension in the room palpable. He had hoped for some kind of solidarity in the face of this disaster, but it seemed that fear and survival instincts had turned everyone into their own worst enemy.

Roper let out a soft whine, sensing the unease in the air. Sora knelt beside her, stroking her thick fur. "It's okay, girl," he whispered, though he wasn't sure if he was comforting her or himself. "We'll find food somewhere else."

As he rose to leave, one man who had stayed behind eyed him warily. Sora could see the man's gaze linger on his face, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Sora's features. Then, suddenly, the man's face paled.

"Wait… your eyes!" The man pointed at him, his voice filled with fear and disbelief. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

Sora blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asked, taking a step back.

"The veins… under your eyes," the man stammered, his voice trembling. "They're black… just like the monsters outside!"

Sora instinctively raised a hand to his face, touching his skin beneath his eyes. His heart raced as he felt the faint throbbing of veins, something he'd never noticed before. His breath caught in his throat. Was he… changing?

"I'm not—" Sora started, but the man was already backing away, his eyes wide with terror.

"Stay away from us!" he shouted, his voice cracking with panic. "You're turning into one of them!"

Sora clenched his fists, feeling the judgmental gazes of the others lingering on him. The man's words echoed in his mind, deepening the turmoil within him.

With that, he and Roper left the apartment, the few remaining evacuees watching them warily from the shadows.

As they moved deeper into the building, Sora suddenly froze. His heart skipped a beat as his senses picked up something strange—a faint sound that shouldn't have been there. He tilted his head, listening carefully.

There it was again, unmistakable this time—the muffled hum of a television, the monotone voice of a news anchor cutting through the chaos outside.

How could a TV still be on in this mess? And more importantly, how could I hear it from here?

Sora glanced around, puzzled. The building was silent except for the distant sounds of destruction. He was on the upper floors, surrounded by thick walls, yet he could hear the broadcast clearly, as if the TV were playing in the next room.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. There had been oddities with his senses since everything began, but this was different—this was too sharp, too precise.

He leaned against the wall, focusing harder, the sound of the broadcast becoming even more vivid.

"Reports are coming in from across the country," the anchor's voice was tense, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism amid the disaster.

"Cities and provinces are brimming with mutated creatures, the likes of which we've never seen before. Scientists are scrambling to understand the cause, but opinions are divided."

Sora frowned. Mutated creatures? He listened closely, the words unnerving him. The anchor continued, "Some experts believe this could be the work of terrorists, utilizing a bioweapon on a massive scale. Others point the finger at foreign countries, claiming this is the result of an unprecedented biowarfare attack."

Terrorists? Foreign countries? Sora shook his head, trying to process it all. None of it made sense. This wasn't just a war—it was something else entirely. He could feel it.

The broadcast shifted to a group of scientists, their debate growing more heated by the second.

"We have no definitive proof!" one of the scientists yelled, his voice thick with frustration. "You're making baseless accusations—there's no evidence this was an attack!"

But another voice, calm and collected, cut through the argument. "I told you," a man said, adjusting his glasses with eerie precision.

"This isn't an attack. Look at the night sky. It happened last night. The constellations—the stars were brighter than they've ever been. Something cosmic is going on. This is no accident."

Sora shivered. He vaguely remembered the sky looking odd the previous night, but the scientist's words stirred an unease deep within him.

Suddenly, the broadcast shifted again, and Sora's sharp hearing picked up on the sounds of heavy machinery—tanks and military trucks rumbling through ruined streets. Soldiers were fighting something in the distance, their shouts and the distinct whine of gunfire becoming clearer in his mind.

The news anchor's voice trembled. "The military in Yamazakura province is being overwhelmed by these creatures. We're seeing tanks and—oh my God—look at that!" The anchor described a massive, gorilla-like creature wreaking havoc on the military, overpowering vehicles and soldiers alike.

Sora's pulse quickened, the vividness of the description painting terrifying images in his mind.

His breath caught in his throat. The panic in the anchor's voice was unmistakable as the situation spiraled out of control.

"The military is taking heavy losses, and these creatures—they're too powerful. We—" Suddenly, the broadcast cut to static, leaving only an eerie silence.

Sora stood frozen, his mind racing. He couldn't explain why he could hear all this, why it was so clear, but he knew it was important. It wasn't just happening here—it was everywhere.

Then, a sudden thought pierced through the chaos in his mind.

"Mom... Saya..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. The thought of his mother and sister, out there somewhere in the midst of this nightmare, filled him with dread. Were they safe? Were they even still alive?

For a moment, he was paralyzed by the weight of it all. The world was collapsing around him, and the people he loved were out there, lost in the chaos. But then, a new resolve took hold of him. He couldn't afford to stand still. He couldn't afford to hesitate.

He turned to Roper, his voice firm and determined. "We need to find them."

As Sora and Roper descended the stairs, a flash of movement caught his eye. A cracked mirror, crookedly hanging on the wall, reflected his pale face.

His breath hitched as he noticed them—inside his eyes, just beneath the surface—the faint but unmistakable dark veins. They swirled within his irises, barely visible, like tiny black tendrils creeping outward from the edges of his pupils.

What… what is this?

He leaned in closer, his heart racing. His fingers brushed his eyelids, but the dark lines remained untouched, pulsing deep within, almost like they were alive. A sickening wave of nausea hit him as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. His vision blurred for just a moment, like static on a broken screen, before snapping back into focus.

Am I really turning into one of them?

The thought chilled him to the bone. No—he couldn't allow that. Whatever these changes were, he wasn't going to let them take over.

His mother and sister needed him. He couldn't lose himself to this creeping infection, or whatever twisted force was trying to claim him.

Sora tore his gaze from the mirror, forcing himself to move. He quickened his pace down the stairwell, the weight of this new revelation heavy on his shoulders.

Whatever this was, whatever he was becoming, it didn't matter.

Not yet.