ReEvolution: The glorious evolution

Beneath the shade of a towering oak tree, a fourteen-year-old boy named Viktor sat atop a grassy hill, absorbed in the pages of an old book.

His white hair fell over sharp features, the tips of his ears betraying his elven heritage—a rare mix of human and elf.

The book, The Wonders of the World, was an aged history text detailing the vast landscapes of planet Violeten.

He had read it countless times, yet its familiar words still brought him comfort.

That comfort was short-lived.

A sudden splash of icy water struck him, soaking his clothes and pages alike.

Laughter erupted.

"It's the lonesome elf," sneered a voice.

Viktor exhaled through his nose, brushing wet strands of hair back as he looked up.

Henry stood before him, flanked by his usual group of friends, grinning with cruel amusement.

"What's that you're reading, freak?" Henry mocked.

Viktor tucked the book under his arm, his expression indifferent. "A book," he replied smoothly. "Something your tiny brain wouldn't comprehend."

Henry barked a laugh. "The disgusting elf thinks he's smart. How are those wet pages?"

Viktor stood, unfazed. "I've read it a thousand times. I already know what to expect." He smirked. "Speaking of wet, your mom's quite the screamer. If my dad's doing something your father can't, you might want to start calling me big brother."

Henry's face turned red. With a furious yell, he lunged, tackling Viktor to the ground and throwing a punch across his jaw.

"Don't you dare—!"

Before Henry could land another hit, Viktor pressed his palm against his chest.

A sharp gust of wind burst forth, sending Henry flying backward. He tumbled across the grass, groaning.

Viktor calmly raised a hand as he got up on his feet, forming a swirling sphere of water before launching it at his attacker. The blast struck with force, knocking Henry out cold.

"Like mother, like son," Viktor muttered under his breath.

His gaze shifted to the remaining boys. Their bravado had evaporated, replaced by fear.

"Now," Viktor said, voice low, measured. "Are we going to have a problem?"

Their answer came in frantic footsteps as they scattered, running for their lives.

Viktor sighed. He already knew how this would end. Instead of waiting for trouble to find him, he headed home to face the inevitable.

---

Later that day, Viktor sat at the kitchen table, arms crossed, as his father, Kurt, paced back and forth, voice raised in frustration.

"What were you thinking?!" Kurt scolded. "Thank the gods Henry's mother had a healing potion, but that's beside the point! You insulted someone, then used magic to fight back? You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Viktor opened his mouth to argue, but Kurt cut him off.

"And to make things worse, the other kids are going to think you're weird and dangerous!"

Viktor sighed. Arguing was pointless.

"Tomorrow," Kurt continued, his tone firm, "I want you to go and apologize. Do I make myself clear?"

Viktor rose from his chair, his feet hovering slightly above the ground. "Not in the slightest," he said. "I'm sleeping in the forest tonight."

Kurt reached out to stop him, but Viktor drifted just out of reach.

"You know what irritates me?" Viktor mused, his voice sharp. "I expected you to be on my side. But no—you let her wrap you around her finger. You'd rather make me the villain just to keep her happy."

Kurt's eyes flicked to the faint bruise on Viktor's lip. His expression softened, but before he could speak, Viktor continued.

"For the longest time, I asked myself why I stayed in this village. Surrounded by humans. Constantly reminded that I don't belong here. Was I supposed to keep tormenting myself, pretending we could ever understand each other?" Viktor shook his head. "I still don't have an answer."

With that, he turned and floated out of the house, leaving Kurt behind in silence.

---

Viktor had barely reached the forest's edge when he sensed it—he wasn't alone.

A group of men waited in the darkness, their torches flickering against the trees. At the center stood Vlad—Henry's father. He gripped a club tightly, his knuckles white.

"Because of you, my boy is unconscious," Vlad growled. "Who knows when he'll wake up?"

The other men closed in. Five against one.

Viktor smirked. "I can't say I don't enjoy a dance with humans like you," he said, pulling a stopwatch from his pocket. "But it's past my bedtime, so I'll give you thirty seconds."

Vlad sneered. "So your elf side is showing, huh?" He cracked his knuckles. "Boys, let's show him who's truly superior."

One of the men lunged from behind. Viktor dodged with ease, clicking the stopwatch. A gust of wind sent the attacker flying down the hill.

The second rushed in—only to be engulfed in flames.

The third followed, swinging wildly. Viktor met him head-on, his arm encased in solid stone. One punch to the skull sent the man crashing before Viktor finished him off with a barrage of stone bullets.

The fourth barely had time to react before a blast of water struck him, launching him into the air before he hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Viktor turned to Vlad. The man was already running.

Click. 0 seconds remaining.

"Thanks for the dance," Viktor murmured, floating toward the forest without a backward glance.

He stopped at a small clearing where the moonlight bathed the earth in silver. Wildlife stirred around him, their eyes reflecting the glow.

To them, he gave a silent command.

"Watch my body."

Viktor lay on the soft grass, allowing the night's cool embrace to lull him into rest. Small creatures nestled close, their warmth replacing what he lacked.

With a quiet whisper, he said, "I belong here… nowhere else."

---

Morning arrived with an unexpected sight.

Viktor stirred to find a girl hovering over him, her bright blue hair catching the dawn's light.

He tensed. The animals should have alerted him if an intruder was nearby.

His sharp gaze took in her fox-like ears and three swaying tails. She wore tattered rags, exhaustion evident in her face.

Before she could say a word, she collapsed.

Viktor caught her before she hit the ground, his hand brushing against her skin. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the blood trailing from a wound on her knee.

He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. "A kitsune… here in the human realm?"

His fingers hovered over her injuries, and for the first time in a long while, he hesitated.

Pain—his oldest companion. His shadow at dawn and dusk. It never waned, never granted reprieve. It lingered, whispering against his ribs, pressing against his spine.

He had run from it, fought it, cursed it in the dead of night, yet still—it remained.

And yet, if suffering was certain, then at least he could be its author.

Viktor placed his palm over her wound. The pain she bore twisted into a crimson orb, pulsing with residual agony. He watched it, felt it, before swallowing it whole.

A bitter smile ghosted his lips.

"All I can do," he murmured, "is carry what others shouldn't have to."

And with that, the morning truly began.