“Arthur, there’s some news.”

  I sighed. Solace’s voice carried that all-too-familiar ‘I’m-about-to-ruin-your-day’ energy, and honestly, I was starting to wonder if he even knew how to deliver good news.

  “Alright, let’s get this over with. How bad is it?”

  “There’s actually bad news before the bad news.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Oh great, a two-course meal of suffering. Lay it on me.”

  “The universe is waking up.”

  I blinked. “I feel like you’re going to need to elaborate before I decide if this is existentially terrifying or just Tuesday.”

  “Monsters aren’t the only things evolving. Ancient civilizations—ones that have been dormant for eons—are also stirring.”

  I took a deep breath. “When you say ‘ancient civilizations,’ do you mean powerful, possibly godlike beings with an affinity for planetary conquest?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Cool, cool, cool.” I folded my arms. “And let me guess, their favorite hobby isn’t pottery or cultural festivals but good old-fashioned imperialism?”

  Solace sighed. “Yes. They’re expanding, and Earth is first in line for invasion.”

  “Lovely.” I rubbed my temples. “So, what’s the slightly less catastrophic news?”

  “Well, every living creature now has access to ten possible evolution pathways.”

  That got my attention. “Wait—ten? As in, not just one pre-determined fate?”

  “Yes. Each evolution pathway depends on the creature’s top ten compatibility rankings.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You mean their natural inclinations, strengths, and personality quirks?”

  “Exactly.”

  I sat back, mulling it over. “So, you’re saying I, Raven, Sebastian, and… wait, did I even name the bull?”

  A brief silence stretched between us before I just shrugged. “Vance. He looks like a Vance.”

  Solace didn’t dignify that with a response.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “we all get to choose our evolution paths?”

  “Yes. Sentient creatures get a choice. Non-sentient ones will evolve based on their strongest compatibility or at random.”

  “Fascinating,” I murmured. “So we’re about to hit a major turning point?”

  “Exactly.”

  I exhaled. “And there’s no undo button, is there?”

  “No. Once an evolution path is chosen, it’s irreversible.”

  I inhaled sharply. “No pressure then.”

  Asher, ever the unhelpful voice, finally chimed in. “Or, you could just pick the most chaotic option. Keeps things exciting.”

  I groaned. “Why do I even listen to you?”

  “Because I make things fun.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Fun is not the word I’d use.”

  “I would,” Asher said smugly.

  I pushed him aside mentally and turned my attention back to reality. It was time to break this news to my equally chaotic companions.

  I found Raven and Sebastian perched near the edge of our makeshift camp, Vance lazily chewing on what looked like an unfortunate patch of grass. The three of them looked up as I approached, the expressions ranging from curiosity (Raven), skepticism (Sebastian), and general indifference (Vance, who was a bull and probably didn’t have strong opinions on cosmic horror).

  “Alright, team meeting,” I announced, clapping my hands together. “Brace yourselves, because what I’m about to tell you is, frankly, insane.”

  Sebastian crossed his arms. “That describes most things that come out of your mouth.”

  “Fair.” I cleared my throat. “So, long story short: evolution is a thing now.”

  Raven tilted his head. “You mean like growing wings or stronger talons?”

  “Sort of. But on a much grander scale.” I gestured vaguely at the sky. “Every living creature—us included—now has access to ten different evolution pathways. And once we pick one, it’s permanent.”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “We get to choose?”

  “Yup. But only if we’re sentient. Vance here… well, his is gonna be up to fate.”

  The bull in question let out a low grunt. It might have been an objection. It might have been indigestion. Hard to say.

  “Hold up,” Raven said. “If we pick an evolution path, does that mean we change? Like, physically?”

  “Yes. Depending on what you choose, you could get stronger, faster, or completely alter your abilities.”

  Sebastian looked thoughtful. “And if we make the wrong choice?”

  “There’s no going back.”

  Silence fell over the group as that sank in. Even Raven, normally unbothered by most things, looked pensive.

  Sebastian, ever the pragmatic one, frowned. “Alright. So we wait until the moment comes and follow our instincts?”

  “Pretty much.” I glanced at Vance, who was still chewing grass. “And Vance… well, let’s hope the universe is kind.”

  The bull merely snorted.

  Asher chuckled. “Let’s just hope none of you end up looking like abominations.”

  I shuddered. “Great. Now I have that mental image. Thanks, Asher.”

  “Anytime.”

  I turned back to the group. “Alright, team. We’ll cross the evolution bridge when we get to it. Until then, let’s focus on getting stronger.”

  Sebastian cracked his knuckles. “Let’s make sure we’re ready.”

  Raven flapped his wings. “I’ll start practicing my aerial strikes.”

  Vance just snorted again.

  And me? Well, I braced myself for whatever ridiculousness was about to come next.

  Because if there’s one thing I’d learned by now, it was this:

  Things were always about to get worse.

  And I couldn’t wait.

  Two days later, the time came.

  I was peacefully sleeping—probably dreaming of something either incredibly important or completely nonsensical—when suddenly, a vacuum-like voice echoed through my head.

  I jolted awake, except... I wasn't awake.

  Everything was pitch black. Not in the cozy, close-your-eyes kind of way, but in the terrifying "I-can't-even-see-my-hands" kind of way.

  "You guys here?" I asked, expecting some sort of comforting, if snarky, response.

  "We are," they four of them responded in perfect unison, which, for the record, was both reassuring and extremely creepy.

  Then, as if the universe decided to mess with me, ten glowing pages appeared out of nowhere, floating ominously in the void. At first, I thought it was some kind of cosmic pop quiz. But then I realized—this was worse.

  Each page had a title and a description, listing pathways I could supposedly take. Seven were clearly related to the voices in my head, while the remaining three seemed to be based on my current, very unfortunate life choices.

  The first page read:

  Architect of Perfection

  Cons: Reaching perfection will require constant failure and immeasurable time to be truly perfect.

  No pros. Just that one, soul-crushing con staring back at me like a disappointed parent. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was Solace’s influence.

  The second page:

  The True Fallen Angel

  Cons: Can never lean towards one side, neither good nor evil.

  I snorted. Asher. This was definitely Asher’s influence. The guy couldn’t commit to being a hero or a villain if his life depended on it.

  The third page:

  The Child of Chaos

  Cons: The mind forever stays as a child and playful.

  Riven. No doubt about it. And honestly? This one was way too accurate.

  The fourth page:

  The Hungry Monster

  Cons: Always stays hungry.

  Yep. Fang. Classic. At least this one was straightforward.

  The fifth page:

  The Tyrant of the Void

  Cons: Can never be rational and simple.

  I squinted. This one wasn’t Fang’s. That meant... Void. Who was, thankfully, still asleep. Because knowing him, he’d make this pathway sound way cooler than it had any right to be.

  The sixth page:

  The Lazy Genius

  Pros: Master of everything. Cons: Forever lazy.

  Daze. Hands down. I mean, the con was literally his entire personality.

  The seventh page:

  The Truth Seeker

  No cons listed.

  Wait. What? That wasn’t fair. Every other pathway had at least one major drawback. But knowing Greed, this meant the con was so horrible that they just conveniently decided not to list it.

  Solace said do you even know him?

  I ignored him.

  Then came the three that weren’t connected to the voices:

  The Adapter

  Cons: Overthinker.

  I frowned. This one felt... oddly personal. As if the universe itself was pointing at me and whispering, "Yeah, this guy has issues."

  The Sovereign

  Cons: Can never work without subordinates.

  Oh. Well. I guess that made sense, considering Sebastian and Raven had been running around doing a lot of my heavy lifting lately.

  And finally, the last option:

  The All-Rounder

  Cons: ???

  Huh? I leaned in, squinting. The text glitched and warped as if reality itself didn’t want me to know.

  "That’s not concerning at all," I muttered.

  The voices were dead silent for a moment. Well, not all of them. Solace, Asher, Riven, and Fang were already arguing over which path I should take.

  "Architect of Perfection is the only logical choice," Solace insisted.

  "No, True Fallen Angel gives the most versatility," Asher countered.

  "Guys, Child of Chaos is literally perfect. I mean, come on, you’d never get bored!" Riven said, way too excitedly.

  "Pick Hungry Monster. Trust me," Fang added. "It’s the most... satisfying."

  "Not helping, Fang."

  Meanwhile, Void, Daze, and Green remained silent in their deep slumber, which, honestly, was a blessing.

  After a long, headache-inducing debate where absolutely nothing was agreed upon, I stared at the last option again.

  The All-Rounder.

  No cons I could see. Balanced. Versatile.

  "Screw it, we’re picking this one," I declared, before anyone could object.

  The moment I did, the pages vanished, and a strange sensation washed over me. It was like my entire existence was shifting, my abilities stretching and morphing in ways I couldn’t understand yet.

  Then, everything went black again.

  And when I woke up, I was back in bed.

  I sat up with a groan. "Well, that was weird."

  The voices, of course, had opinions.

  "You should’ve picked mine."

  "No, mine was better."

  "At least you didn’t pick Child of Chaos."

  "Hey! Rude!"

  I sighed. This was going to be a long day.