Orion's birthday started the same way every other day in his life did: disappointing.
The alarm on his cracked phone screamed at 7:30 a.m. He smacked it until it shut up, then groaned and rolled out of bed like a corpse refusing to stay buried. Still half-asleep, he shuffled into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. When he finally looked up, the mirror offered him the same tragic sight as always.
Average height and a slim build that made gym class a nightmare. Messy dark blonde hair that couldn't decide if it wanted to be golden or black, streaks of both clashing together like his DNA had flipped a coin. Heavy-lidded dark eyes stared back at him, carrying a permanent look of disinterest, as if life itself just wasn't worth the effort.
"Congrats," he muttered at his reflection. "Eighteen. Legally an adult. Which means… what? Still can't drink, still can't rent a car, but hey, I can be tried as an adult if I screw up. Living the dream."
He rubbed his face, sighing. No prospects. No girlfriend. His biggest achievement in life? The insane number of webnovels he'd finished. If that didn't scream "pathetic," nothing did.
Orion's days were simple. School, binge reading, sleep, repeat. Friends? None that mattered. Just classmates who sometimes remembered his name. Enemies, though? He had one of those.
Mason.
That bastard had hated him ever since the Great Lunch Tray Incident earlier this year. Full tray - food, drink, everything - straight onto his shirt. Total accident. But Mason didn't do forgiveness.
"Hey, Orion!"
That voice, smug and nasal, was the kind that made Orion want to pierce his own eardrums. After a long day of school, it was the last thing he wanted to hear.
He didn't even need to turn. Mason was already there. Hair slicked back like he dunked it in motor oil, strutting with his pack of discount hyenas. He was like the typical high school bully, the personification of insecurity.
But that didn't make his fists hurt any less.
Orion sped up, praying they'd get distracted by something shiny. Spoiler: they didn't.
A meaty hand clamped onto his shoulder, spinning him around.
"Not gonna say hi to your old buddy?" Mason smirked.
"Oh, my bad," Orion deadpanned, flipping him off. "Hi."
The lackeys cackled. Mason didn't.
The punch came fast, burying itself in Orion's gut. Air whooshed out of him as he doubled over. Routine. Mason got his power trip, his crew got their laughs, and Orion got new bruises.
Still, he always swung back. Not because he thought he could win, God no. But if he was about to get beaten up anyway, he might as well try to get in a hit of his own.
His fist grazed Mason's jaw, which earned him nothing but amusement from the larger youth who played sports. His crew laughed harder. Then they thrashed him around until they got bored.
Slumped on the ground outside the school gates, Orion eventually got up and limped home. His body aching, his hoodie stained, and the sun already dipping low.
"Happy birthday to me," he muttered. "Celebrated by getting my ass kicked. Lovely."
Home was no better. Silence. Parents deceased. Older brothers, off doing their own thing. No cake, no presents. Just Orion, his hoodie, and sore ribs.
He crashed into bed, napping until hunger dragged him back up.
"You know what? I'm going to order a pizza. That's going to be my cake today."
Adulthood meant independence, and independence meant choosing to drown in greasy cheese.
While waiting, he did what he always did: drowned himself in webnovels. Losers turning into legends, nobodies handed second chances. He wasn't a main character, but it was nice to pretend.
The doorbell rang.
"Pizza salvation," Orion muttered, dragging himself up.
Nobody stood at the door. Just a box, steaming in the night air. Weird, but fine. If anything, he preferred the contactless delivery, no pressure to leave a big tip.
He bent to grab it, then froze.
Hovering above the box was an eyeball.
Not a picture. Not a trick of light. A real, floating eyeball. Veins spider-webbed across the white, a blood-red iris staring at him, pupil widening as it locked on.
"What the fu-?!"
The pizza slipped from his hands, splattering across the porch. Orion didn't care. His brain screamed: slam the door, run, pretend this never happened.
But before he could, the eyeball shot forward.
Straight into his face.
"ARGHHHH!"
Blinding light detonated in his vision, like a flashbang set off inside his skull. His world went white, then seared red, pain ripping through his veins like liquid fire laced with acid.
Orion screamed, clawing at his face as if he could rip the invading eye back out. His nails scraped skin, but there was nothing to grab. Nothing to fight.
It was too late.
Something had already burrowed inside him.
And in that instant, the Orion who was addicted to webnovels and coasted through life had died.
What rose in his place was someone else entirely.
His life would never be the same from this moment on...