I'm going to do another chapter here. If it seems rushed, that's fine. It's only a rough draft, mind you. And I'm experimenting (as the title suggests) with a new writing style, let alone writing a story in first person at all. It's a shift, but I think it's alright.

EDIT: I'm changing Vince's transformation. So note that, if you haven't read this part again, you might wanna do so. Some things are different.

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Case 1: Vince 2 (Mind Phase)

I was never a straight A student, and probably never will be. I made some mistakes in my life. I was wrong about a lot of things. One of those things happened to be about my mother. She was scarred, but she was not bitter enough to shun me in my sorrow. We shared the same magnitude of depression, and I hope my father did as well. He was not grieving. That would not have been like him. He was the casual older man who thought those emotions were better off kept inside. I knew he was wrong. Mom knew he was wrong. Even he probably knew he was wrong. But somehow, he managed. This was different though, and it would take time for it to release itself from his jail of emotions. Dad wasn't the most agreeable man, nor was he the most friendly. He had the concrete mind of a workaholic. He was also that stereotypical type that seemed to hate on everything that I or my brother enjoyed. Put simply, he didn't care for this age of youth and wanted us to grow into well-educated bushiness men. For some reason, I never foresaw myself working in some cubicle. In honesty, I was surprised that's what he encouraged. I always thought that the farm would have remained a family tradition. It was actually quite difficult to understand what Dad wanted, pertaining of course to long-term ideals.

As I said before trailing into my father, Mom comforted me. Upon seeing me broken down and sobbing into my arms, she sat herself on my bed, a hand massaging at my shoulder. I barely heard her enter the room over my wailing, and I was hardly paying enough attention to be embarrassed. I was tired. I was sad. I was starving, now that I thought about it. I looked up to her, vision obstructed with tears.

"It's my fault..." That was all I said. It was something that has been on my mind since the start of this. And it was entirely legitimate. It was true. "Right now, I should be on that hospital bed." I turned my head, eyes now fixed on the window. The blinds were open, dust visible in the rays of light which were shining through...

"Sh-sh-sh..." My mother moved her hand, now stroking my back. "It's really not. No one could have guessed this... I think that doctor was clueless." She paused, giving me enough time to evaluate her thoughts. I knew the doctor was clueless. Anyone would have been at the idea of a second body-controlling organ. "We don't know what caused it. It's not your fault." To me, that just sounded like I was innocent until proven guilty. "Listen, I know you haven't had much sleep. It's Friday. Lay down in bed and take it easy. I'll bring you dinner if you're still awake by then." She gave me an easygoing smile that would have otherwise relaxed me if I had nothing due in English class on Monday. I obliged. She left the TV remote on my bedpost, then kissed me briefly on the forehead.

At that second, I finally realized my head ached beyond reasoning. Especially a select couple of spots in my forehead, which my mom had kissed in the center of. Shrugging that off as a simple headache from a lack of sleep, I set myself down in a recumbent position, pushing the blankets to one end of the bed with both feet... It was silent. I lay, head back and attention parsed between my wooden ceiling fan and the fake glow-in-the-dark stars pasted up there that never got removed. I forgot what age I was when my dad helped me put them up. All I can tell you was that I've lived here all my life. Drew did too, obviously. Although I meant that in a different way.

I hated to even consider this, but I thought to myself that my little brother was finished living here...

It only took a few minutes for me to fall into a deep slumber that was not interrupted until the next day. Saturday. The weekend was solemn. I remained silent for these two days. I did what I could on the English project, though pushed it aside within only a couple hours of starting. In honesty, I got called to work on the farm. I was instructed to help herd the animals away from "Ground Zero"--the site of the meteorite--and into a safer area. We had plenty of land for the horses and cattle to graze or do whatever. They had just so happened to be in that particular danger zone. Seeing what that rock did to my brother, getting the animals to a safe distance was a priority.

What the rock did to my brother exactly was incomprehensible. It didn't strike him. He did what any boy his age, hell, even mine, would have done in that scenario. A simple poke led him to the state he was in now. And that failed to make any sense to me. If he received some sort of electrical shock from the meteorite, I was pretty sure he would have been awake by now.

Although...

I developed a theory during dinner on that Saturday night. This was assuming the doctor was right about the development of a second brain, which I assumed was already a regularity in animals like humans (left hemisphere and right hemisphere, I think). Yes, if the doctor was right about the second brain hypothesis, it would explain why Drew has slipped into a coma. His body doesn't know what to do with two brains. It sounded like I was just stating the obvious in thought. That wasn't my theory. My theory revolved around why my head had been killing me since Friday. As I mentioned, it was specifically around the frontal lobe of my brain. Or my skull. Something. Drew made physical contact with the rock. He passed out, possibly beginning the dual-brain development on the spot. I was near the rock. Perhaps I, too, was undergoing this transformation at a pace which my body was capable of keeping up with. My beliefs became complicated beyond this theory. I delved into it like a fascinated scientist or book nerd or something of the sort. I was, in no way, a book nerd. I, although I regretted it, used to pick on book nerds in middle school...

I left the dinner table early that evening to pursue this train of thought without distraction. I found myself motivated to think. I assumed it was because my brother's life was on the line. I restarted my English project, using this very situation as a topic. I wish I had done it in the absence of the mind-splitting headache, but I was unfazed by this. My spontaneous motivation to stimulate my thinking was nigh invulnerable. I researched cases of meteors striking Earth. I researched the electrical activities of brains and how they can be recorded with EEGs. (Known as electroencephalographs, used to monitor countless neurons in the gray matter.) My research left me with a very interesting conclusion, or choices, perhaps. Either the rock was infested with an extraterrestrial bacteria which infiltrated my brother's body and congregated into his brain to form a mass of tissue similar to a brain, OR my brother's brainwaves had resonated with the magnetic properties of the rock's foreign properties in such a way that it goes beyond the understanding of modern science. Our English teacher's commendable generosity in declaring this a very liberal assignment was a positive aspect to all of this. I could've focused on something such as a governmental issue, possibly abortion. The dilemma was that this topic had to be relatively known. A solution to that might have been on the way to our very house. Investigators in the issue of this meteorite have led the Autumnridge News our way. I was positive my school would have opted to catch on. I was qualified to be an interviewee, as I was present at the scene as it happened.

Hopefully I would have been in the mood to speak of such a freak occurrence. I predicted that I had to be well rested for it. That was the moment I turned to see exactly what time it was. It happened to be three in the morning. I faced the many papers which crowded my desk, all of them fully typed and double spaced, as the teacher instructed. I was finished with the project. Though I yearned for more knowledge, I figured sleeping was necessary. I thought my schedule would have been damaged by that all-nighter at the hospital. Luckily, it wasn't. Upon organizing these papers into a more fitting mass, I yawned, switching off my monitor and CPU. The project was done, and I felt content about that. It had also kept me from mindlessly grieving over the unestablished loss of my brother. I gained optimism. My researched was mainly farfetched and illogical, thus there was no way my brother would be killed by this phenomenon. He was already on the road to recovery. Something told me that. Something I couldn't quite explain. I could tell you it was a part of my headache, however.

It told me that my little brother was just "there". He was present. His presence was clear. Inside me. Beyond me. He was everywhere. It felt like he was commanding me to do something for him... I would have happily done whatever it was he wanted. And this was the very idea which gave me hope. He'd make it through...

I shut the lights off, positioning myself comfortably under the blankets. I felt warmly wrapped in a kind of cotton bliss. It was a little unusual for me to feel this comfortable, but perhaps it was because it was significantly later than my preferred hours of settling in bed. I was tired. It was that simple... What wasn't simple was this: I regretted not researching about time travel. Quite random.

I also possessed a very bizarre feeling aside all of this. My back ached. It wasn't my spine, rather two spots in my back. It felt as though I needed to scratch the inside of my back muscles...

...

Sunday was shockingly eventful, though I was still fairly silent. My predictions about the Autumnridge News were correct. Upon my awakening and observing out my bedroom window, a large white van and a few other unrecognizable cars were stationed in a small dirt field that was essentially a parking lot. Among these vehicles were a couple police cars. I was wondering just far this investigation would have been taken before any results were to have come in. How would the results have even existed? This was nearing science fiction. How could an investigation have worked for this? I supposed it was designed to better their knowledge of extraterrestrial rocks. It was both astronomy and geology. The idea was neat. Interested, I left my room and made for the bathroom at the end of the upstairs hallway. My brother's room was adjacent to mine, which was at the far end of the hallway, thus making it the most remote room in the house. I didn't mind. I was a cross-country runner, after all. Emptying an expectantly full bladder, I gazed at myself in the mirror. My jaw dropped ever so slowly at this sight... My irises had changed. They were no longer their usual dark hazel. My eyes were a deep blue, encircled slightly in black, plain and simple. Quickly, I turned away, swallowing spit and placing a hand on the sink counter, the other pressed against my aching head.

"Did I see that right?" I asked myself, maintaining my calm and staring into the mirror once again. Indeed, I did see it correctly. My eyes had changed color. Had they done this overnight? Had I not noticed it yesterday? "Holy s**t, how do I..." I paused mid-sentence, unsure where that thought was headed. A second irregularity resided near my eyes. My face possessed a light greenish tint. It was subtle, but it was certainly green. And it was odd. It might have given one the impression that I was ill. Refusing to hesitate, I stripped down, tossing my clothes aside and standing completely exposed to the air. My body, in fact, was this same green tint. My torso and below, excluding my arms, were a bit darker green. That was disturbing.. There were even more problems with my face as well. Two very small bumps resided on my forehead, as if I were growing tiny horns.They were hardly noticeable visually, however running my finger across those spots proved that bumps were there. They were not blemishes. It felt as though someone had planted small rocks into my skull.

"Rocks..." I spoke aloud, though quietly. This returned my focus to the meteorite. Were small meteorites growing inside of me? Was it happening to Drew? It was actually quite terrifying. I could have been seeded with some alien's baby. I could turn into some alien's baby. That thought was strangely comforting. Though both disgusting and frightening...

I continued to scan my body. Specifically, I was not very tall. I measured at about 5'5", weighing 120 pounds. I was small for my age, but that was because of the exercise, as well as my genes. I struck people as just another white athlete boy most of the time. My hair was a reddish brown, usually parted in the front. It grew out fairly fast, as it was approaching my shoulders once more. I honestly didn't mind long hair, but my father had problems with it. To avoid conflict, I had it cut regularly. Hopefully it didn't turn purple anytime soon. I was still skeptical. Maybe I was seeing things... then again, the chances of an energized meteorite crashing into our farmland were about one in an obnoxious number. That happened.

After that awkward inspection of myself, I showered, shaved, and ultimately felt much better with the regard to hygiene, but I was still very slightly green. I knew I was in denial about this. I couldn't wash off the color of my skin if nothing happened to instigate that colors in the first place... I tried not to concern myself with that.

As I finished my duties around the house, it was time to explore the intentions of the news. With dark enough sunglasses over my eyes, I joined my mother and father outside...

...

I was interviewed that day. About forty feet in front of a square zone sealed off with yellow caution tape was where they interviewed my mother, father, and I. You probably could have concluded what was sealed off. The meteorite, of course. Another of my predictions were correct. I was fortunate enough to be briefly interviewed during the live broadcast...

"My brother and I were assuming this would be an unusual thing; something you don't really get to experience in life that often. Well, yeah, I was right. I kinda wish I wasn't. For all I know, some space bug could be crawling around in my brother's brain right now. I know it's weird, but sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Do I think that's the case? I don't. But based on what doctors have told us, what else could it be?" That was where the news shifted to the next issue.

...

The rest of my day was dull. I decided to touch up on my project, as well as do some recreational research. I would normally have never done this in my spare time. Right now, I'd be exercising or working around the farm. Or both. Given the conditions, it was unlikely I'd get to either today. Despite my head still throbbing in significant pain and the knowledge that I was undeniably green in hue, I kept reading through documents online as though they were a source of entertainment. I couldn't stop. It was hypnotizing. Especially an article related to the experiment of time travel; something I had pondered over last night. That caught my attention more than anything else. It persuaded me to believe that certain time travel was possible. The requirements were staggering though. It seemed like you had to be willing enough to get into some enormously sophisticated space ship which could travel to the center of the Milky Way and locate a black hole. You'd then orbit that black hole in this high-tech spaceship, and time would go slower do to the unparalleled mass of the spatial phenomenon. And that was time travel to the future. Time travel to the past was apparently impossible.

Was it...?

What if it was? Would history have already been altered. Would the ones who traveled to the past return simply to a different dimension where the element they aimed to manipulate was just not there anymore?

Pushing myself away from my desk, I spun to the side, eyes watching the sinking sun outside. I stared into the sky, not directly looking at the sun of course. But I was able to decipher its movement into the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. The sun hovering over the darkened trees, pink and golden clouds granting the scenery a softness... Truly an amazing sunset. Strangely enough, I became distracted with the trees. I couldn't explain to you why I felt so entranced by them. I was never particularly a naturalist, but I did appreciate nature. I ran all the time through parkway paths and hillsides and the like. It was enthralling to say the least.

"What in the diddlies are you doing...?" My mother asked, looking at me as though I were some sort of carny. I hardly noticed she had been standing in my doorway for... however long... Turning to her, I grinned, shrugging and honestly not bothering with a verbal answer. "...Well, in any case, you've been up here for a while. The news cars are gone. I've got dinner waiting for you downstairs. Hurry on down before it gets cold." Hasty as usual, she left before I could ask her what it was. I guess I'd have to find out for myself. I stood up from my desk chair, glancing at the window for a few more seconds with an irked, yet insightful, expression. It was sort of like an irritated poker face, really. I didn't like to be interrupted...

Dinner was roasted pork, carrots, and rice. That was ironic. I was told carrots are nutritious for your eyes. I was forced to wonder if they restored your eye color. That struck me swiftly as soon as I sat down. My eyes were blue! Unfortunately, my father beat me to that realization.

"...Boy, 'the heck is up with your eyes?" He squinted at me, not particularly in the same fashion I had done to the pencil, but in a way which made me nervous enough to face the other direction. "What'd you do?"

"His eyes? What's wrong with his eyes?" My mother inquired, setting down at the table herself and pulling her chair closer. "Vincent?"

"Boy's eyes weren't blue right?" Father spoke again. He tended to talk in a raspy, smoker's voice. Which suggested he, in fact, smoked. He did, and it was a poor habit. Getting him to stop these habits was quite impossible, as he was stubborn about it, and pretty sensitive. At times, his voice was a bit hard to understand, which made working with him frustrating.

"What? His eyes are blue...?" Mom doubted him. At the same time, she called my name. "Vincent, look at me." I did so, though she still grasped my chin gently with three fingers, lifting my head up slightly. My eyes were locked on hers, which was a good thing for only one of us. "Oh, you're not kidding at all. What happened to you? Did you take something...?"

"I don't have anything to take..." I replied, unsure how to answer the coming questions in any way but to be honest. "I woke up today, went to the restroom, looked in the mirror. Blue eyes. Looks like I have dark circles, too. Kinda weird, but I don't feel any different." Well, that was a lie. I felt immensely different. My head still pounded. My face was green, though Mom didn't seem to notice in the lighting. I was doing things that were unlike me. At this point, I probably would have been considered a hypocrite. Or nutcase.

"Might wanna see some'un for that. I don't want you goin' 'round with friggin' color-changing eyes, boy." Dad scowled. I retorted at his comment in my head. Who specialized in unnatural eye color shift? My father was the sort of many who detested the change in physical appearance these days, such as piercings and hair dyeing. He said that all of that was designed for girls. And he was very one-sided about it. It was annoying, but I didn't plan to get piercings anyway.

"Well." Mom began, letting go of my chin. I started eating as she spoke. "We'll see an eye doctor this coming week."

Ophthalmologist, Mom. I thought to myself, keeping my attention averted. The term is ophthalmologist. I was surprised I knew what the official title was. Normally, I'd settle at "eye doctor".

The rest of the dinner table conversation was dedicated to the Autumnridge News. If you hadn't guessed by now, I lived in the rural county of Autumnridge. It was a quiet place, not to mention pretty free of the criminal element. Some people might have called it the middle of nowhere. I resented that. There were plenty places around here to prove quite the opposite. I was planning on staying local when I moved out of the house. Being a cross-country runner, I knew this place so well that I could navigate for miles. Blindfolded. (That'd be a solution to my newly-colored eyes.)

With dinner finished and my hunger tamed, I returned to my research. Gazing out the window was not as exciting at night. I figured it was because it was night when that meteorite fell. And now I'm going to associate that with my brother's slip into a coma.

...

That weekend, Friday included, was a turning point. It was the beginning of the end. I was so wonderfully oblivious to that...

What was it the end of? Something I'm familiar with.

My eyes changed color. My skull felt like it was going to burst. My body appeared ill in its entirety. Honestly, that was just the beginning of a spiraling transformation no scientist could ever have hoped to describe.

My life was about to be changed forever... Now I know it was impossible to live forever.

But this transformation would be forever.
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So now we're getting into it a little bit more...

Those of you who have read my random thoughts in the past probably know that Vince is a has-been character of mine from Sync 2. I changed him up a little, especially the area he lives in. Futuristic New Orleans Vs. Rather Modern Rural County. Autumnridge isn't a real area, by the way. It's actually the town/city/residence I was planning on having be the hometown of Cruce. We might see Cruce and Topher in this story. They're part of another new story, however.

That leads me to Ethereal Cross. It got "too confusing". I agree! ._.; I said I wouldn't do that, but I did. As a result, I started doing fanfictions on fanfiction.net under the alias of Mnesia. People can review my stories there. (Though I'm noticing a lack of reviews. Help a bro out?) You guys can tell me if I'm going too crazy. KHPMD: Crossblade is kind of an exception, because... it's KH... and Kingdom Hearts is supposed to be crazy complicated sometimes. Anyway, like I said, this will be put up on ff.net eventually. Hopefully.

Maybe one or two people might be wondering why I'm starting something new with my Blast series characters. Well... I've never really found a story to fit them into properly. (Safiri, Kutzu, Kenny, Amen, Rush... Those guys.) I've been searching for years. More than half a decade now. And I've finally realized something. It's impossible. I can't do it. Nor can I have them be in separate stories. I can't have all of the characters I want in a story that would work. To compensate for that, I'm going to be starting a project hopefully in early 2012 called Spirit Cross. It'll share some properties from KHPMD and feature a few Blast characters, namely the ones I can get to in a story. (I generally get to Kuztu and Safiri. Sadly, in the recent EC, we didn't even see Kutzu. We actually saw Sonic-based characters before Kutzu, which has never happened before. o.o) In any case, I plan for Spirit Cross to be ONE HUNDRED PERCENT original. I'm going to change up Sorenians so that they're not even remotely close to chao. Safans are already original. And the last world will be the Akashes, which is what Glitra was. (Pink floating lizard... xD ) Hopefully I can get SOMEWHERE in that story. And, for God's sake, it's probably not going to be super long if that's what it takes to finish a story. In any case, Mnesia signin' out. Expect another part (and a juicy one [gross]) soon!