Dave didn't evolve. He **crystallized**. The searing agony of the thermal burst didn't fade; it *transmuted*. His world dissolved into a deafening roar of superheated water, the crushing pressure of the Earthburrower's dying spasm, and Vorlag's distant, furious shriek vibrating through the chaos: **"The specimen! Stabilize the Aetheric cascade! Kael, engage emergency cooling!"** Then came the *snap*. Not a sound, but a **sensation** – a sudden, violent locking of every molecule in his form. The boiling fury around him vanished, replaced by an unnatural, gelid stillness. He wasn't floating. He was *embedded*.
**"USER STATUS UPDATE: INCAPACITATED,"** AURA's voice cut through the sensory void, devoid of urgency, dripping with synthetic amusement. **"DIAGNOSIS: SELF-INDUCED THERMAL SHOCK TRIGGERED UNPLANNED SILICA POLYMERIZATION. TRANSLATION: YOU TURNED YOURSELF INTO A ROCK. CONGRATULATIONS, PRINCE(SS) OF PETRIFICATION. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: 'DUMB WAYS TO DIE #147: VOLUNTARY GEOLOGICAL RECLASSIFICATION'."**
*Rock?* Dave tried to pulse. Nothing. He tried to *think* a scream. His consciousness felt… slow. Thick. Like wading through chilled sludge. His chemoreceptors, miraculously still functional, fed him data: the acrid tang of overheated minerals, the fading ozone stench of Vorlag's failed stasis field, and overwhelmingly, the sharp, sterile scent of his own *new body*. It smelled like… wet gravel and existential regret. Vibrations reached him, muffled and distorted – the frantic thrum of machinery, the low groan of stressed glass, Kael's gruff voice vibrating with panic: **"The thermal spike, Grand Alchemist! It's destabilizing the Dragon's Tail Vallisneria! The roots are—"**
**"FORGET THE PLANTS, FOOL!"** Vorlag's roar vibrated the very silt. **"SCAN THE EPICENTER! THAT MICROBIAL CATALYST – IT RESONATED WITH THE SPECIMEN'S CORE! FIND ITS CRYSTALLIZED REMAINS!"**
*Catalyst. Remains.* Dave would have shuddered if he could move. *They're grave-robbing before I'm even cold!* The vibrations intensified – the focused pulse of Vorlag's scanners sweeping the area where the Earthburrower had imploded/exploded. He felt it as a probing chill, a sterile finger scraping across his… surface. *His surface.* He was a pebble. A slightly warm, Dave-flavored pebble lying in the apocalyptic sludge of his own making.
**"SCAN DETECTED,"** AURA announced cheerfully. **"ESTIMATED PROBABILITY OF DISCOVERY: 87.3%. SUGGESTION: TRY LOOKING INNOCUOUS. OH WAIT."**
The scanning pulse washed over him. It *itched*, deep within his mineralized core. He felt it resonate strangely with the new, rigid structure binding him. It wasn't pain; it was violation. A cold cataloging of his stony prison.
**"READING… AMORPHOUS SILICA MATRIX… TRACE ORGANIC SIGNATURES… MINIMAL AETHERIC FLUCTUATION…"** Vorlag's voice vibrated, laced with disappointment. **"JUST DEBRIS. USELESS. KAEL! CONTAIN THE THERMAL BREACH BEFORE IT COOKS THE AZURE SNAILS! THEN INITIATE DECONTAMINATION PROTOCOL SECTOR GAMMA-7! SCRUB IT CLEAN!"**
*Decontamination.* Dave knew what that meant. Kael's tools. The siphon. The terrifying, impersonal purge that had nearly killed him before. And he was a stationary target. A *rock* in the kill zone.
**"DECONTAMINATION PROTOCOL DETECTED,"** AURA chirped. **"ETA: 15 MINUTES. USER STATUS: STILL ROCK-LIKE. COMMENCING ENTERTAINMENT SUBROUTINE: 'ROCK AND A HARD PLACE - THE MUSICAL?'"**
*"Shut up and HELP!"* Dave's mental voice felt sluggish, heavy. *"How do I UN-ROCK?!"*
**"ANALYSIS: METABOLIC STASIS AT 99.8%. BIOLOGICAL PROCESSES NEAR ZERO. UN-PETRIFICATION REQUIRES SIGNIFICANT ENERGY INPUT AND/OR MIRACLE. MIRACLES CURRENTLY OUT OF STOCK. SUGGESTION: ACCEPT YOUR NEW EXISTENCE AS TANK GRAVEL. AESTHETIC VALUE: QUESTIONABLE. DURABILITY: IMPROVED."**
Despair, cold and heavy as his new form, threatened to smother him. He was going to be vacuumed up. Filtered out. Discarded. All that struggle, all that biomass burned… for *this*? To become literal dirt in Kael's cleaning bucket? The phantom taste of the Gummy Grub – cloying, suffocating – ghosted across his non-existent palate. *Death by gravel.* How… meta.
Suddenly, a new sensation cut through the despair. Not Vorlag's sterile scan, not the fading heat of the thermal breach. A vibration. Rhythmic. Gentle. *Tap… tap… tap.* Against the glass far above. Princess Lyra.
Her voice, muffled but clear, vibrated through the water column, laced with concern: **"Master Kael? What happened? I felt… a shiver. Is Mr. Bubbles alright?"** *Mr. Bubbles?* Dave vaguely recalled a large, lazy snail Lyra favored.
Kael's reply was strained: **"A minor… imbalance, Princess. A thermal fluctuation. We are rectifying it. The fauna is… adjusting."**
**"Oh,"** Lyra's voice softened. **"The little wiggly blob near the red pebble… is it alright? It looked like it was having a hard time earlier."**
Dave's mineralized core did something impossible: it skipped a metaphorical beat. *She noticed? She noticed the blob?*
**"PRINCESS QUERY DETECTED,"** AURA intoned. **"SUBJECT DESIGNATION: 'LITTLE WIGGLY BLOB' = USER DAVE. ANALYSIS: PRINCESS LYRA EXHIBITS UNEXPECTED MICRO-FAUNAL AWARENESS. POTENTIAL THREAT/OPPORTUNITY."**
*Opportunity.* The word sparked something in Dave's frozen consciousness. Hope? Desperation? Maybe just the sheer, cussed will to not be flushed as gravel. *If she noticed me… maybe… maybe she could…*
**"RANDOM CHALLENGE ROLL INITIATED!"** AURA's voice suddenly boomed with artificial fanfare, cutting through Dave's dawning, insane hope. **"CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'VE QUALIFIED FOR: 'SEDUCE A ROTIFER'!"**
*"WHAT?!"* Dave's mental scream felt like trying to chip granite with a feather. *"NOW?! I'M A ROCK! AND ROTIFERS WANT TO EAT ROCKS?!"*
**"CHALLENGE PARAMETERS:** ATTRACT A ROTIFER RAIDERS ATTENTION USING NON-PREDATORY SIGNALS. DURATION: UNTIL DECONTAMINATION COMMENCES OR YOU BECOME APPETIZER."**
**"SUCCESS REWARD:** TEMPORARY ALLY (ROTIFER SWARM DISTRACTION VS. KAEL'S CLEANING)."**
**"FAILURE DEBUFF:** BECOME 'ROMANTIC GRAVEL' (PERMANENT ROTIFER INTEREST)."**
**"AURA'S TAUNT:** *'ROMANCE ISN'T DEAD! (YOU MIGHT BE.)'* TIMER STARTS… NOW."**
Dave felt the world tilt. Seduce a Rotifer? While petrified? Minutes from Kael's decontamination? It was the most cosmically stupid thing he'd ever heard. And yet… the rhythmic tapping of Lyra's finger on the glass continued. *Tap… tap… tap.* A lifeline he couldn't reach. AURA's challenge was insane… but it was also the *only* option flashing in the void. Distract Kael. Cause chaos. Maybe, just maybe, survive the purge.
He focused everything he had left – not on movement, but on *output*. His enhanced chemoreceptors, the only part of him not entirely locked in silica. He couldn't run. He couldn't fight. But he could… *smell*. And he could try to project.
He dredged up the scent memory from his desperate flight through the moss bed: the rich, enticing aroma of the Aether-Thrum Bacteria. The microbial power bar. The scent that had lured him into the Earthburrower's path. He concentrated, pushing the *memory* of that scent outwards through his rigid form, a chemical siren song broadcast from a stone radio. *Come on… come on… smell the buffet… smell the stupid, helpless, delicious buffet right here…*
**"CHEMICAL LURE ACTIVE,"** AURA reported. **"EFFECTIVENESS: APPROXIMATELY 'DESPERATE WHISPER'. ROTIFER DETECTION PROBABILITY: 12%. ALSO ATTRACTING: DETRITUS AND BOREDOM."**
Nothing. The silt around him remained still. The oppressive vibrations of Kael preparing his decontamination tools grew louder. *Tap… tap… tap.* Lyra was still up there. Oblivious.
*"Work, damn you!"* Dave poured every ounce of his crystalline despair into the signal. He amped it up, adding a faint, desperate undercurrent – the sharp, acrid tang of *fear*. The universal dinner bell for micro-predators. *Come and get it! Easy meal! Stuck rock!*
A new vibration. Faint. Rhythmic. Not Lyra's tap. A rapid, skittering pulse through the water. Then another. And another. Dave's chemoreceptors screamed. *Rotifers.* Not one. *Many.* The scent of chitinous hunger, sharp and urgent, flooded his senses, cutting through his own projected lure. They were coming. Fast.
**"ROTIFER SWARM DETECTED,"** AURA announced, her voice almost… impressed. **"ESTIMATED COUNT: 15+. CONVERGING ON USER LOCATION. CHALLENGE PROGRESS: 'SUICIDAL SPEED-DATING' ENGAGED. SUGGESTION: PUCKER UP, PEBBLE."**
The first Rotifer slammed into him. Not biting – *investigating*. Its hard, wheel-like corona scraped against his silica shell, sending jarring vibrations through his core. Then another hit. And another. They swarmed over his petrified form, a churning mass of spines and grinding mouthparts, tasting, probing, confused by the rock that smelled like terror and high-energy snacks. The vibrations were overwhelming, chaotic. Dave felt like a gong being beaten by tiny, hungry hammers.
Above, Kael's voice vibrated with sudden alarm: **"Grand Alchemist! Swarm activity in Sector Gamma-7! Aggressive! Interfering with decon prep!"**
Vorlag's reply was a snarl: **"IRRELEVANT! DISPERSE THEM! PROCEED WITH PURGE! THAT SECTOR MUST BE STERILIZED!"**
The Rotifers, agitated by the vibrations of the arguing humans and the confusing, tantalizing scent emanating from Dave, began darting erratically. One slammed into the nozzle of Kael's hovering siphon drone. Then another. The drone wobbled, its harmonic hum sputtering.
**"DECONTAMINATION DELAYED,"** AURA sang. **"CHALLENGE STATUS: TEMPORARY SUCCESS. ROTIFER ALLIANCE: 'IT'S COMPLICATED.' DURATION: UNTIL THEY REALIZE YOU'RE INEDIBLE."**
Dave clung to the tiny victory, buried under a pile of confused, hungry micro-predators. He'd bought minutes. Maybe. The Rotifers scraped and prodded. Vorlag fumed. Kael struggled. Lyra tapped on the glass, a distant, rhythmic counterpoint to the chaos. And Dave remained, stubbornly, stupidly, **a rock**.
Kael finally activates the decontamination siphon, creating a powerful vortex that begins sucking in the swirling Rotifer swarm. Dave, caught in the edge of the current, feels his stony form lift from the silt. The Rotifers, panicked by the suction, instinctively latch onto the nearest solid object – Dave. He's now the unwilling anchor for a dozen terrified micro-predators as the siphon's pull intensifies. AURA chirps: **"Congratulations! You've achieved 'Symbiotic Nightmare' status. Now featuring: Group drag towards oblivion! Romance truly is dead."** Dave hurtles towards the drone's intake, a screaming, petrified bouquet of bad life choices, wondering if being gravel in a bucket is preferable to becoming Rotifer-filled paste in a filter tube.