—
The Physicist finally moved.
He walked toward the corpse.
No one stopped him.
No one wanted to get close.
He crouched down and examined it.
Up close, it was worse.
The structure was wrong. The proportions didn't belong to anything natural. It looked like something forced into a shape that almost made sense.
But not quite.
This thing…
was not from this world.
And yet, his thoughts went somewhere darker.
Could it be eaten?
How long would it last?
The thought disturbed him.
But not enough to stop it.
He looked up.
"Does anyone have a knife?" he asked.
For a moment, no one answered.
Then the PE teacher stepped forward.
Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small folding knife—a cheap, worn pocket blade, the kind you wouldn't expect a teacher to carry, but no one questioned it anymore.
He handed it over.
The Physicist took it.
There was a brief pause.
In another world, in another day, this would have been wrong.
Now…
it didn't matter.
—
He took a breath.
Then pressed the blade into the creature's body.
It resisted.
The skin was tougher than it looked.
He applied more force.
It gave.
What was inside wasn't right.
The smell alone made his stomach twist.
He turned his head for a moment, swallowing hard.
But he didn't stop.
Because he had already crossed that line.
—
Then he found it.
Something different.
Solid.
Not like the rest.
He reached in and pulled it out.
A small, irregular crystal.
Dull at first glance.
But as he held it—
it changed.
A faint energy pulsed within it.
Subtle.
Alive.
It didn't glow like light.
It breathed.
The Physicist froze.
His fingers tightened around it.
Something… was coming from it.
Not heat.
Not sound.
Something else.
A pull.
A quiet, undeniable pull.
His body reacted before his mind did.
His stomach tightened.
His throat went dry.
He hadn't eaten since morning.
He hadn't even noticed.
Until now.
The feeling grew stronger.
The crystal didn't just sit in his hand.
It called.
Not with a voice—
but with need.
The PE teacher frowned.
"What is that?" he asked.
The Physicist didn't answer.
Because he wasn't thinking anymore.
Not really.
The world had already broken once.
This was just…
another step.
He looked at the crystal.
Hesitated.
For a moment.
Then—
he brought it to his mouth.
And bit down.
No one stopped him.
No one moved.
The sound echoed faintly in the silence.
And then—
he swallowed.
—
It was sweet.
Too sweet.
Overwhelmingly, impossibly sweet.
The taste flooded his mouth, spread across his tongue, down his throat—thick, rich, intoxicating. For a heartbeat, everything else disappeared. The fear, the noise, the broken world outside—
all of it faded.
There was only that taste.
And it was perfect.
Around him, people were staring.
Dozens of eyes.
Frozen.
Watching.
He didn't care.
He couldn't.
It wasn't a choice.
It was instinct.
Only when he swallowed did it hit him—
What did I just do?
Panic surged.
The sweetness didn't fade.
It deepened.
Then twisted.
His throat tightened.
A sudden, brutal thirst clawed up from inside him.
His mouth dried instantly.
His tongue felt heavy.
He swallowed—nothing.
Again—nothing.
His body wanted water.
Desperately.
More than hunger.
More than fear.
Then—
pain.
It came without warning.
Sharp.
Violent.
Like something tearing through him from the inside.
He gasped.
His body bent forward.
Sweat broke across his skin in seconds.
His veins felt too tight—then too wide—like they were being forced open. His muscles trembled, each one pulling in a different direction. His chest tightened, breath catching, lungs refusing to cooperate.
Something was wrong.
Something was moving.
Inside him.
Not physically—
but it felt like it.
Like something was trying to get out.
His vision blurred.
His hands shook uncontrollably.
Every nerve screamed at once.
"Ah—!"
The sound tore out of him before he could stop it.
A raw, broken scream.
It echoed through the gym.
Everyone stepped back.
Fear spread faster than before.
No one moved toward him.
No one helped.
They just watched.
Because they didn't understand.
Because they were afraid.
His body convulsed.
Muscles locking, releasing, locking again.
His legs gave out.
He hit the ground hard.
The pain didn't stop.
It built.
Climbed.
Consumed.
Then—
nothing.
His body went still.
The Physicist collapsed.
Unconscious.
The gym fell into a heavy silence.
No one spoke.
No one dared.
Because everyone felt it—
something had changed.
And when he woke up…
if he woke up—
the world wouldn't be the only thing that was different.