Veyland was quiet deep into the night. Stores were all dark, only streetlamps spilled faint yellow light over the empty streets, and the night wind drifted slowly through the silent lanes.
Elias Thorne headed home after overtime, his suit still neat and crisp. Only a flicker of cold impatience showed in his eyes at the pointless extra hours — all he wanted was to return to his tidy, quiet place and be done with work for good.
He cut across a small square on his shortcut, when his ankle was suddenly seized by an invisible force. Not strong enough to hurt, but impossible to break free, it dragged him roughly to the center of the square.
Elias steadied himself. Looking around, five people already stood in the square, all wearing identical looks of blank confusion and irritation.
It was clear enough they'd all been dragged here by the same strange power.
In the next second, a scorching heat surged through Elias's body, a strange energy flooding his tired limbs. He tensed his hands almost reflexively, fingers half-curled, and sharp, glinting claws snapped out from his fingertips. The claws were blackened at the root, hard and glossy, tapering to a silvered, needle-sharp point that glinted like shards of frozen shadow. They looked like something forged to tear through stone and bone.
He stared at his own claws, expression flat.
Fantastic. Just fantastic. One bad day and my body decides to cosplay a werewolf's cousin.
Before he could process it, chaos broke out beside him.
A sharply dressed, flashy-looking man beside him stiffened abruptly, faint dark scales creeping across his skin. Caught off guard, he stumbled and crashed hard into the muscular man next to him.
"Hey! Watch it!" the man snapped.
But before he could go on, his own body began to swell uncontrollably, his muscles bulging until his hoodie split open from the armpit down, tearing to shreds.
The man stared at his ruined clothes, face scrunching up in frustration and helplessness. "You've got to be kidding me…this was my favorite one."
Elias barely had time to register the absurd scene before something else happened in the corner.
A young girl with a backpack flinched, two soft fluffy animal ears popping out on top of her head. She froze stock-still, hands flying to cover her ears, eyes glistening as she whispered shakily, "What is this…why is this happening…"
A blonde girl nearby reached to comfort her, only for soft light to flicker at her fingertips. She jerked her hand back in alarm, looking flustered. "It's okay…it's okay, I'm…this is weird too."
The square erupted into noise. Some groaned over their torn clothes, some panicked at their strange new features, others simply fell into confused chaos.
Only the boy with black-framed glasses kept his head down, his fingers tapping rapidly across the computer keyboard, not even glancing up — as if none of the chaos around him mattered at all.
This sudden, inexplicable farce had lent the dull evening a rather unusual touch of amusement.