The walk home didn't take long. The house wasn't far—just close enough that I could still hear every muffled laugh, every shout, every slurred word that spilled from the open windows. My parents and their friends were out there, partying like it was the only thing that mattered. The sound of their voices echoed in the quiet street, a sharp contrast to the cold stillness I carried inside.
I stayed in the shadows for a moment, letting the noise wash over me. It was the same every time I came back—drunken laughter, careless words, a group of people too wrapped up in their own chaos to notice the world burning around them. I could feel the weight of it all—the loneliness, the cold distance between me and the ones who should have cared.
When I stepped through the front door, nothing changed. The room was thick with smoke and the smell of spilled beer, the floor sticky beneath my boots. Empty bottles littered the table, and a haze of cigarette smoke curled toward the ceiling. My parents sat slouched on the couch, eyes glazed over, faces flushed. Their friends roared with laughter, throwing empty cups at each other like it was a game.
None of them noticed me.
I was invisible.
For a second, I thought about turning away, walking back into the cold night and disappearing into the forest. But then I felt it—the weight on my wrist, the steady pulse of the Carnitrix, like a heartbeat syncing with my own. A device that had appeared the moment I took over this body, the key to something bigger, something dangerous.
I clenched my fist and focused.
A flash of red light erupted from the Carnitrix, sharp and bright enough to cut through the haze of the room. The laughter died instantly. Heads snapped toward me, eyes wide with shock and fear. The music stuttered and faded as if the world itself held its breath.
My body twisted and shifted, reshaping faster than anyone could follow. Flesh gave way to claws and dark armor, muscles stretched and compressed. When the light dimmed, I stood there as XLR8—but not the hero anyone remembered. This was a monster, a shadow of the speedster I once knew. My eyes burned a deep crimson, limbs sharper and longer, every movement radiating power and menace.
The room was silent now, the only sound the quickening breaths of those who dared to look.
I wasn't worried about them trying to run. They were too slow. Even if some managed to slip away into the night, who would believe their story? A boy turning into a demon before their eyes? It was impossible.
I could see the panic flicker in their eyes, the way their faces reflected the monster I had become. They thought they were safe behind their walls, but I was the predator now.
A cruel smile crept onto my lips.
For now, I decided to play.
There was something exhilarating about this power—the way the Carnitrix responded to my thoughts, the way I could bend my form and the world around me. It was a game of control and fear, and I intended to win.
Slowly, I took a step forward, claws tapping on the floor, a silent warning. The others froze, unsure whether to flee or fight. I could smell their hesitation, taste their fear.
This was only the beginning.
The night was mine to command.