They headed to a hot dog stand, the sizzle of grilling meat drawing them in like a siren's call.
They grabbed hot dogs piled high with mustard and onions, the warmth seeping into their hands as they ate, laughing at Kelvin's exaggerated moans of delight.
"Best thing I've had all week," he declared, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, a smear of mustard decorating his chin like a badge of honor.
The day unfolded with a rush of fun that painted the world in vibrant strokes.
They tried a ring-toss game, Ash nailing a perfect throw to win a small plush toy, which he tossed to Noah with a grin.
"For your collection," he teased, and Noah caught it with a mock salute, tucking it into his hoodie pocket with a shy smile.
Kelvin dragged joined a dance-off, his wild, uncoordinated moves earning cheers from a small crowd of onlookers, though he tripped over his own feet, sending them all into peals of laughter that echoed off the nearby stalls.
They paused to watch a street juggler toss flaming torches, the heat brushing their faces as the flames arced through the air, their applause mingling with the crowd's.
They shared a bag of cotton candy that melted sweetly on their tongues, sticky fingers brushing as they passed it around, the sugar a fleeting taste of freedom.
Kelvin, ever the instigator, spotted a hot pepper challenge at a stall and declared, "I'm doing it!" with a grin that promised trouble.
He grabbed a fiery red pepper, popping it into his mouth with bravado, only for his face to turn beet red. "Oh no—water!" he gasped, fanning his tongue as tears streamed down his cheeks, his voice a mix of pain and laughter.
Noah rushed to get a bottle, splashing half of it on Kelvin's shirt in his haste, and Ash doubled over, laughing until his sides ached, the sight a perfect blend of chaos and camaraderie.
As the afternoon waned, they joined a small crowd for a street theater performance, a comedic play about a rogue and his crew that had them chuckling at the parallels to their own antics, the actor's exaggerated gestures drawing delighted gasps.
They tried a strength-test game, Kelvin swinging the hammer with gusto but barely ringing the bell, while Noah's steady swing sent it clanging, earning a stuffed bear he handed to Ash with a quiet, "For you."
A minor scuffle broke out nearby when two vendors argued over stall space, their voices rising in a heated exchange, and the trio watched with wide eyes, Ash feeling a thrill at the raw, unpolished life unfolding around him.
They lingered by a fortune-teller's tent, peering at the colorful cards spread on her table, though they didn't dare enter, sharing nervous laughs instead.
The day stretched on, each moment a thread in the tapestry of their friendship, Ash's heart swelling with a joy he'd rarely known.
After hours of adventure, the three collapsed onto a bench, exhausted but grinning, their breath visible in the cooling air.
The festival's energy hummed around them—music weaving through the laughter, the clatter of games a distant rhythm—yet their little corner felt like a sanctuary, a bubble of warmth amid the chaos.
Kelvin leaned back, stretching his arms, "This was a good day," he said, his voice content,with an amusing memory.
Noah nodded, wiping sweat from his brow, "You did right calling for this, Kelvin. I Needed it." His warm brown eyes softened as he glanced at Ash, his voice a steady anchor.
Kelvin smirked, nudging Noah with an elbow. "Told you I'm the master planner. You're just the brain, not the genius—admit it!"
Noah rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a mock huff. "Master planner? You nearly choked on that pepper. You'lld be hospitalized by now, if I hadn't saved you with that water!"
"Saved me? You turned me into a walking fountain!" Kelvin shot back, their voices rising into a playful argument about heroics and hydration, the bickering a familiar, comforting rhythm that filled the space between them.
Ash sat quietly, his fox-painted cheek resting against the bench's backrest.
In his mind, a warm thought bloomed, rich and unshakeable: *I love my life like this—with them.* The laughter, the freedom, the bond—it was everything the mansion wasn't, a haven carved out of shared moments.
He closed his eyes, savoring the sound of their voices wrapping around him like a shield, the weight of his family's lies melting away in the glow of their friendship.
A sudden rumble broke through his muse, a deep, unnatural growl that vibrated through the bench and into his bones.
The sky, cloudy all day, thundered with a force that shook the air, the sound rolling like a warning.
The crowd paused, unease rippling through the festival as the chatter faded, replaced by a tense silence.
"What's that sound?" Noah asked, his brow furrowing as he sat up, his gaze lifting to the darkening sky.
Kelvin glanced up, squinting against the shifting light. "Storm, maybe—" His words cut off as the hum surged into a deafening roar, a sound that clawed at their eardrums, then fell to a haunting, oppressive silence.
A crack split the sky—not like lightning, but like a mirror shattering in slow, deliberate motion.
Colors bled out—blues, reds, purples—wrong and alien, staining the clouds in a surreal, nightmarish wash that defied nature.
The ground shook, a tremor running through the cobblestones, cracking the pavement beneath their feet.
Screams pierced the air as the crowd scattered, panic spreading like wildfire.
Ash's eyes locked on Noah, terror etched into his warm brown gaze as he reached out, his hand trembling with desperation.
Kelvin's mouth opened in a silent scream, his cap flying off, lost to the chaos, his hazel eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
The last sound was the world's dying roar, a harsh discordant mixture of sounds, that drowned their voices, a final note in the symphony of collapse.
A blinding light swallowed everything—bench, friends, festival—erasing the world in a flash of white, then plunging into an abyss of darkness.
---
Cold. Wet. Heavy.
Lucian's eyes fluttered open, the world a blur of murky water and shifting light.
His body ached, submerged in a river that tugged at him with relentless force, the current pulling him under.
He gasped, choking on the liquid, his lungs burning as he realized he was drowning. His arms flailed, weaker than he remembered, but as he fought to surface, he noticed something different—his frame felt stronger, more defined, the lean muscles of his forearms now sculpted with a fitness he hadn't earned.
Naked and vulnerable, the cold bit into his skin, but the urgency drove him upward.
He kicked with all his might, his legs churning against the water's drag, his head breaking the surface with a desperate gasp.
Air flooded his lungs, sharp and tinged with an odd taste.
He clung to a jagged rock, his chest heaving, water streaming from his wild dark hair into his eyes.
The world around him was alien yet familiar—the sky above was a normal blue, dotted with fluffy clouds, but something felt off.
The birds soaring overhead were massive, their wingspans stretching wider than any he'd seen, their cries deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder.
He blinked, wiping water from his face, and caught sight of a fish leaping from the river—a rainbow-hued creature with scales that shimmered like polished gems, its fins glinting with an iridescent sheen that caught the sunlight in a dazzling display.
It vanished beneath the surface, leaving ripples that lapped against his chest.
Lucian looked around, his breath catching as confusion swirled in his mind.
The riverbank was lined with trees, their bark pulsing with faint, rhythmic light, and the ground was a mosaic of cracked stone and vibrant moss, veined with roots that twisted like living cables.
The air hummed with an unfamiliar energy, a vibration that seemed to pulse through his very bones.
"What the hell happened?" he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and raw, echoing faintly over the water.
His mind raced, fragments of the festival flashing before him—Noah's terrified reach, Kelvin's silent scream, the shattering sky.
The memory hit him like a punch, and he gripped the rock tighter, his knuckles whitening.
The world had ended, or changed, and he was alone, naked, and changed too.
His body felt different, stronger, but his heart ached with the loss of his friends.
He pulled himself onto the bank, the mud cold and slick under his feet, he was shivering, his gray eyes scanning the strange landscape as the first seeds of resolve began to take root.