K-Dyn figured something was off when Logyn hadn’t streamed in 48 hours. That was unheard of. Logyn streamed with a kind of feral consistency—Valorant, Elden Ring mods, unhinged Just Chatting sessions from his closet, even one infamous late-night mukbang where he ate raw liver “for the primal vibes.” Dude never just disappeared.
K-Dyn biked over. Slammed on the front door a few times until it cracked open.
“Bro,” he said, squinting into the dim LED haze. “You been ghost harder than my GPA.”
Logyn appeared in the doorway looking like he’d been printed at low resolution. Pale, jittery, eyes too wide. His shirt—torn at the neck—read GASLIGHT. GATEKEEP. GIRLBOSS. There was something… off about his shoulders. And his clavicles. And his texture.
“I’m chill,” Logyn said, voice croaky but casual. “Just been goin' through it.”
K-Dyn stepped inside cautiously. The air smelled like wet dog and Axe body spray.
“Nah, you look like you fell asleep in the microwave,” he said. “You got fur comin’ outta your collarbone. That’s not regular.”
“It’s giving feralcore,” Logyn replied, shrugging. “Maybe puberty patch 2.0 dropped.”
He didn’t seem worried. Just tired. Wired. Unbothered.
“Let’s hit stream,” he said. “Chat probably fiending.”
The stream went live at 9:32 PM.
Background: RGB lights pulsing like an angry rave. Foreground: two teenagers, one of whom had definitely grown a full inch of fang since the stream started. K-Dyn sat to the side, eyes locked on Logyn’s slowly mutating silhouette.
Chat started rolling immediately:
“bro where u BEEN”
“your vibe is off and ur pupils are wrong”
“did ur bones just… snap???”
“nah he’s growling why is he growling”
K-Dyn leaned in and whispered, “Yo. Your pupils just rotated. Like a goat.”
Logyn laughed. “It’s the ring light. Y’all are being dramatic.”
His laugh had a rumble in it now. Not quite human. Not quite anything.
Chat went feral:
“IS HE MOLTING”
“someone call animal control”
“this man’s turning into the Fortnite Battle Pass”
“Logyn.exe is experiencing critical errors”
K-Dyn stood up. Slowly. “Okay. Okay. Maybe you just need a Snickers. Maybe you’re not you when you’re hungry—”
CRACK.
It was the sound of Logyn’s spine rearranging itself. In real time. His hoodie split down the back. Fur—not patchy teen beard fur, but fur-fur—erupted across his shoulders. His ears lengthened and twitched. His mouth… widened. Like he was trying to smile but forgot where his cheeks were supposed to stop.
“Bro,” K-Dyn said, backing up. “This ain’t even lycanthropy. This is full system failure. You’re evolving mid-stream.”
“It’s giving... lunar enhancement,” Logyn growled, voice now pure reverb.
“It's giving hell no.”
The camera shook. The LED lights burst. The last thing chat saw was K-Dyn’s terrified face and Logyn’s elongated jaw, mid-pounce.
STREAM: OFFLINE.
For a solid two minutes, nothing. Just the eerie hum of silence and an empty gamer chair slowly spinning.
Then—static. A burst of glitchy noise. The stream flickered back to life.
Logyn reappeared, his shirt torn, fur matted with blood, eyes glowing faintly yellow like busted LEDs. His bangs still swooping dramatically over one eye, somehow untouched.
He wiped his mouth. Grinned at the camera.
“Yo,” he said, breathless. “Sorry for the tech issues. Had to, uh... grab a snack. Got super hungry. You know how it is.”
From just out of frame, something lumbered into view.
It’s K-Dyn.
But not K-Dyn-K-Dyn—this version has claws, fangs, and eyes like molten gold. His hoodie is barely hanging on. He’s drooling slightly. He looks like a cursed Funko Pop.
He leaned into the mic and grins wide.
“Deadass tho,” he snarled, voice warbled and way too chill, “I’m mad hangry too, no cap. Finna demolish some DoorDash. Or a DoorDash driver. Whichever gets here first.”
Chat:
“WHAT THE HELL”
“so they BOTH got that dawg in them now 💀”
“stream just turned into a Nat Geo special fr”
“ain’t no way this is TOS-compliant”
“lowkey kinda iconic tho”
“this the best stream I’ve ever seen”
Logyn leaned forward, eyes twinkling.
“Don’t forget to like & howl, chat.”
STREAM: STILL LIVE.
END.