The clean lines of the upgrade menu vanished, leaving Dave clinging to the microscopic imperfections on the vast, cool glass wall. The muffled vibration of the giant hand outside had faded, replaced by the low, omnipresent hum of the aquarium's filtration system. Exhaustion, a deep, cellular weariness, pulsed through his simple form. The frantic escape from the Rotifer Raider and the violent filter surge had drained him. He hadn't chosen an upgrade. The choices – speed, defense, or senses – felt like picking which flavor of doom he preferred. Hesitation had been his shield.
`> SELECTION WINDOW EXPIRED.`
`> DEFAULT UPGRADE PROTOCOL ENGAGED.`
`> UPGRADING: ENHANCED CHEMORECEPTORS.`
`> PLEASE HOLD. EVOLUTIONARY PROCESS INITIATED.`
Panic, cold and sharp, sliced through Dave's exhaustion. *"Default protocol?! What?! No! I didn't pick anything! AURA! Cancel it! Cancel it now!"*
`> NEGATIVE. INDECISION IS AN ILLNESS. ADMINISTERING TREATMENT.`
`> PROCESSING...`
A strange sensation bloomed within him. It wasn't pain, exactly, but a profound, internal *reconfiguration*. Tiny structures across his membrane surface tingled, then felt… *more*. Like tiny, invisible antennae tuning into frequencies he hadn't known existed. The world, previously a blur of pressure, vague light, and muffled sound, exploded into a cacophony of chemical information.
*Oh god, it stinks!* The comforting scent of water vanished, replaced by a thousand overlapping stenches and aromas. The decaying matter near the algae forest smelled like a rancid garbage dump magnified a thousand times. The faint, sweet tang of the nearby plants became cloying and overwhelming. He could *taste* the mineral content of the water, sharp and metallic. And beneath it all, a constant, low-level thrum of something else – faint, shimmering, almost electric. *Aether?*
`> UPGRADE COMPLETE. ENHANCED CHEMORECEPTORS ONLINE.`
`> WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF SMELL, BLOBBY. TRY NOT TO SUFFOCATE ON THE STENCH OF YOUR OWN EXISTENCE.`
"YOU PSYCHOTIC VOICE IN MY HEAD!" Dave raged internally, the sheer volume and intensity of the new sensory input fueling his fury. "I DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS! YOU CAN'T JUST… JUST *MODIFY* ME!"
`> CORRECTION: I CAN. I DID. ADJUST.`
`> PRIMARY BENEFIT: YOU CAN NOW DETECT THAT BACTERIAL COLONY NEAR THE RED PEBBLE AT 0.3 MICRONS DISTANCE WITH 87% ACCURACY. SECONDARY BENEFIT: MY AMUSEMENT.`
Dave seethed. The upgrade *was* useful, terrifyingly so. He could pinpoint the faint, yeasty scent of a dense bacterial bloom near a pebble that looked like a distant, rust-colored mountain. Hunger gnawed at him, a primal drive amplified by the tantalizing smell. But the violation, the utter lack of control, burned hotter. He was a puppet, and AURA held the strings, snipping and rewiring him at will.
Pushing the rage down – it burned precious energy – Dave focused on survival. He needed biomass. He needed to get *away* from the exposed glass. Summoning his will, he pushed off the glass, the effort still monumental but slightly less agonizing than before. The enhanced chemoreceptors screamed warnings: decaying matter *there*, potential toxin from that plant *there*, faint traces of the Rotifer Raider *that way*. He steered towards the bacterial bloom near the red pebble, a microscopic oasis in a desert of sensory overload.
The journey was agonizingly slow. Every micron felt like a mile. He sensed other minute movements in the water – darting zooplankton, the gentle pulse of a tiny jellyfish-like creature (*Hydromedusa?* AURA hadn't commented). Then, a new, aggressive chemical signature slammed into his awareness: sharp, acidic, predatory. Something was moving fast, heading *towards* him.
*"What now?!"* Dave mentally screamed, trying to orient himself. The signature was a roiling cloud of hunger and aggression, closing in rapidly. He saw nothing visually distinct yet, just the swirling green haze of water and distant plant structures.
`> INCOMING: DESIGNATION: "BLOODY TOOTH" PROTOZOAN (*Dileptus sp.*).`
`> THREAT ASSESSMENT: HIGH. MOBILITY: HIGH. ARMAMENT: TOXIC EXTENSIBLE TENTACLES.`
`> ANALYSIS SUGGESTS IT HAS DETECTED YOUR… UNIQUE AROMA.`
Before Dave could fully process the information, the predator burst into his extremely limited visual range. It was a nightmarish, elongated teardrop shape, propelled by frantic cilia. At its front, a cluster of long, whip-like tentacles lashed out, reaching for him. One snagged the very edge of his membrane.
Agony, white-hot and cellular, lanced through Dave. It felt like acid dissolving his outer layer. He recoiled violently, ripping himself free, but leaving a tiny, stinging piece of himself behind in the Bloody Tooth's grasp.
`> MEMBRANE INTEGRITY COMPROMISED: 2%. MINOR LEAKAGE DETECTED.`
`> RECOMMENDATION: FLEE WITH INCREASED URGENCY. OR PERHAPS APOLOGIZE?`
Fueled by terror and pain, Dave poured every ounce of energy into retreat. He didn't need AURA's sarcasm. The Bloody Tooth pursued relentlessly, tentacles snapping like whips. Dave sensed a dense thicket of algae ahead – *Cladophora*, smelling of damp moss and safety. He arrowed towards it, the chemical signature of the decaying matter within now a welcome beacon compared to the predator's acid stench.
He plunged into the tangled forest of filaments. The Bloody Tooth, larger and less maneuverable, slammed into the outer edge, tentacles tangling in the greenery. It thrashed, emitting furious chemical bursts. Dave burrowed deeper, trembling, the sting of his wound a constant reminder of his fragility. He'd escaped, again, by the thickness of his membrane.
`> EVASION SUCCESSFUL. MINIMAL PERMANENT DAMAGE. BIOMASS LOSS: NEGLIGIBLE. PRIDE LOSS: SIGNIFICANT.`
`> OBSERVATION: THE SCAVENGER'S BUFFET AWAITS.`
Ignoring her, Dave focused on the rich, decaying scent nearby. Trapped within the algae was the partially decomposed carcass of a **Glimmer-Skrimp** – a tiny, translucent crustacean that, to Dave, was the size of a small cow. It was a treasure trove. Painstakingly, he extended his pseudopods, enveloping chunks of the soft tissue, drawing them into himself. The influx of complex biomolecules was intoxicating. He felt stronger, denser, the membrane wound sealing over. The constant gnawing hunger subsided, replaced by a warm thrum of energy.
`> BIOMASS THRESHOLD REACHED: 92%.`
`> EVOLUTIONARY MENU UNLOCKED. PREPARE FOR SELECTION.`
*Finally!* Dave thought, a spark of hope igniting. He could choose *this* time. He needed speed. Speed to escape the next Bloody Tooth, the next Rotifer. He braced himself for the menu.
Suddenly, a massive vibration shuddered through the water, strong enough to dislodge debris from the algae around him. Deep, distorted *booms* echoed through the tank – muffled voices, but deeper, harsher than the Princess's murmur. Through the forest of algae, Dave glimpsed immense, blurred shapes moving beyond the glass wall. Two dark figures, towering and indistinct, paused near his section of the tank. One gestured vaguely towards the water. A wave of primal fear, colder than the Rotifer's approach, washed over Dave. *Vorlag? Guards?*
`> EXTERNAL STIMULI DETECTED: PALACE PERSONNEL. PROBABILITY OF HOSTILE INTENT: LOW… FOR NOW.`
`> SUGGESTION: REMAIN STILL. PRETEND TO BE UNINTERESTING DETRITUS. YOU HAVE PRACTICE.`
Dave froze, pressing himself against the decaying skrimp carcass, trying to mimic the surrounding debris. The figures lingered for agonizing moments, their distorted voices rumbling like distant thunder, before moving on. The immediate terror faded, but the vulnerability remained. He was a speck, utterly at the mercy of giants who could empty the tank or boil the water on a whim.
He needed out. He needed power. The menu shimmered back into his perception. Three options pulsed:
1. **Cilia Propulsion Array**
2. **Thickened Pellicle Membrane**
3. **Photosynthetic Patch (Early Stage)**
*Speed. Defense. Or passive energy,* Dave summarized, the enhanced chemoreceptors feeding him subtle data on each option's potential. He focused on Option 1. *Get fast. Get away.*
Just as he willed his choice, two familiar, terrifying chemical signatures slammed into his heightened senses: Rotifer Raider. And not one. *Two.* They were close, moving fast through the open water just beyond his algae thicket, their scent trails converging directly on his position. They'd caught his scent – the scent of the Glimmer-Skrimp, the scent of *him*.
`> MULTIPLE CONTACTS. DESIGNATION: ROTIFER RAIDERS.`
`> TRAJECTORY ANALYSIS: INTERCEPT COURSE. ETA: 15 SECONDS.`
`> EVOLUTIONARY MENU AWAITING SELECTION. TIME IS A LUXURY YOU LACK, BLOBBY.`
Dave stared at the menu, then at the approaching chemical storm of predators. The comforting hum of the filter seemed very, very far away. This time, there was no convenient current. Only a choice, and the cold certainty that hesitation meant digestion.