The cosmic storm struck with merciless fury. Energy cascaded around the spacecraft, blinding white currents wrapping the hull in radiant fire. Panic surged among the crew as alarms screamed through the cabin. Susan clutched the nearest support rail, her eyes wide with fear. Johnny muttered frantic curses under his breath. Ben, still strapped in, gritted his teeth against the violent tremors.
Only Kurogai Blackwood remained unmoved. His dark gaze stayed fixed on the swirling torrent of cosmic power, as though he were studying its very essence.
A flicker of something unexpected stirred within him. This energy… it wants to rewrite me.
He could feel it seeping into his cells, probing his genes, pushing to alter the foundations of his body. At once, two forces deep within him stirred in conflict. One—the vast resilience of his perfected body—drew the storm inward, as if eager to devour it. The other—an ancient burning essence, like a phoenix caged within his core—rose in defiance, ready to cast the storm out entirely.
Two instincts warred inside him: to consume or to reject.
Kurogai closed his eyes briefly, then smirked. "Interesting. If that's the choice… then I'll embrace it."
His decision was instant. He trusted the perfected strength of his body above all else. He opened himself to the storm, allowing the cosmic energy to flow through every fiber of his being.
Agony struck first—searing pain across his skin, deeper than flesh, into bone, into blood. Every cell seemed to shatter, only to knit together again in some altered form. Yet along with the pain came something else: power. His body was breaking and remaking itself, the storm weaving its touch into his very structure.
Inside the cabin, chaos reigned. Susan cried out as she clung to Johnny, shielding him with her arms. Ben slumped unconscious, his massive frame helpless against the storm's fury. The others fell one by one, overwhelmed by the surge.
But Kurogai stood still, his breath steady, his eyes burning faintly with light. When the storm at last ebbed and the ship drifted back into a fragile calm, everyone else had collapsed into unconsciousness.
Kurogai opened his eyes.
They had changed. His pupils shimmered with a strange dual radiance, as if galaxies had been etched into them. Starlight seemed to glimmer in their depths, a quiet intensity that made his very gaze difficult to meet. He blinked once, and the brilliance faded, replaced by something colder, more distant. The storm had marked him, not just in power, but in presence.
"So," he muttered to himself, testing the air with his voice. "This is what you leave me with."
He flexed his hands, feeling the subtle difference. Every motion carried a faint hum of restrained force. It was intoxicating, but he forced himself to stay measured. Power without control is nothing. If I walk around glowing like a god, I'll never move unnoticed again.
He closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and when he opened them again, the light dimmed. Though anyone who met his gaze would still feel that unnatural pull, a subtle pressure that warned of the danger beneath the surface.
Satisfied, he shifted his focus back to the others.
Susan lay nearest, still breathing steadily, her hair fanned across the cabin floor. Kurogai crouched beside her, placing a hand lightly above her sternum. He could sense it—the residual cosmic energy winding its way into her, rewriting her at the genetic level. Unlike him, she wasn't resisting. Her body was yielding to it, adapting smoothly, as though the storm itself had chosen her.
"Good," he murmured softly. "Yours is a transformation that won't break you."
He lifted her carefully and carried her to a secured chamber, placing her where she could recover in peace. For a fleeting moment, he let his gaze linger on her face, softened by unconsciousness. There was strength there, beneath the vulnerability, and he respected it.
Then he turned away. Sentiment had its place, but not now.
Moving to the airlock, Kurogai pulled Ben's heavy frame back inside, unfastening the suit straps that had tangled during the storm. Johnny was sprawled across the control chair, unconscious but stable. Victor and the others were in similar states, their bodies already shifting, subtle signs of change etched into their skin.
Kurogai dragged them one by one into the center of the ship, arranging them where they would be safe until they woke.
At last, he returned to the controls. The ship was battered but functional. With practiced motions, he re-engaged the navigation systems, plotting a course back to Earth.