Time stopped.
The world narrowed to the dark, murky water and the two faces reflected within it. His own, a mask of grime and haggard desperation. And the other, a thing of alien geometry and chilling stillness.
Lin Ke didn't move a muscle. He didn't even breathe. Every primal instinct screamed at him to stay perfectly still, to become a stone, to cease existing. The creature was a Stick-Insect Mimic, a Phasmida, but one of a scale and intelligence his textbooks had only hinted at. Its camouflage was no simple trick of coloration; it was a profound, biological act of becoming one with its environment. It hadn't been hiding behind the tree. It was the tree.
His mind, a fortress under siege, defaulted to its training. Observe. Analyze. Survive.
The creature's posture was not aggressive. Its multifaceted eyes, vast and black like pools of oil, remained fixed on the glowing Veridian Heart-Moss. Its long, slender limbs, indistinguishable from the branches of its host tree, were relaxed. The proboscis, a delicate and horrifying instrument, uncoiled with a slow, deliberate hunger. It wasn't a predator sizing up its prey. It was a specialist, an herbivore of a terrifyingly advanced order, approaching its meal.
That was the good news. He wasn't the target.
The bad news was that its meal was Chi Tong's only chance at life.
A new wave of panic, cold and sharp, threatened to shatter his composure. He pictured Chi Tong, lying cold in the hollow root, the faint vibration of its life-force fading with every passing second. The algorithm of decay was running its course. He couldn't wait. He couldn't afford to let this creature leisurely consume the one thing that could pause that fatal program.
Fight it? The thought was suicidal. He was a breath away from collapse, armed with a chipped knife. That thing was a part of the forest itself, and he was just an intruder.
Scare it? With what? A threatening shout would be a pathetic squeak in this ancient jungle.
His mind raced, discarding failed strategies at the speed of thought. There had to be a solution beyond brute force. There was always another variable. He had to find it.
It was then that he became aware of himself. Not his fear or his pain, but his physical presence. The stench. He was covered in a complex cocktail of scents: the sour tang of his own sweat, the earthy smell of mud, the coppery note of his own blood. But underneath it all, caked onto his clothes and skin, was a far more potent and dominant scent profile.
The dark, acrid ichor of the slain Steel-Armored Mantis. And the metallic, ozone-tinged scent of Chi Tong's own evolved, silver blood.
He was wearing the scent of two powerful, elite-tier creatures. One dead, one dying, but a scent nonetheless. A scent that screamed of battle, of shed blood, of a violent struggle between apex predators.
The Phasmida Mimic was a specialist. Specialists, particularly herbivores, rise to the top of their niche by becoming masters of avoidance. They do not challenge apex predators. Their entire evolutionary strategy is based on not being noticed by them.
A desperate, razor-thin plan formed in his mind. A biological bluff.
He couldn't fight the creature, but perhaps he could convince it that a far greater threat was already here.
Slowly, deliberately, Lin Ke shifted his weight. It was a minute, controlled movement, the hardest thing he had ever done. Every instinct shrieked at him to stay still, but he forced his body to obey his intellect. He turned his torso just enough so that the evening breeze, faint as it was, would drift from him towards the creature.
Then, he raised his right hand, the one most heavily smeared with Chi Tong's silver blood during his frantic escape. He brought it close to his mouth and exhaled a slow, warm breath onto the dried crust. The warmth would increase the volatility of the scent molecules, releasing them more strongly into the air.
He was making himself known. He was betting his life on the hope that his scent was more terrifying than his appearance was tempting.
The Phasmida Mimic's proboscis, inches from the glowing moss, froze.
Its antennae, which had been twitching faintly, now went rigid. The massive, compound eyes swiveled, their entire surface seeming to ripple as they processed the new data. They were no longer focused on the moss. They were focused on him. On the air around him.
For a terrifying, endless moment, nothing happened. The creature simply stared, its alien mind processing an equation Lin Ke could only guess at: Food Source vs. Predator Scent. Opportunity vs. Risk.
Then, with a movement so slow it was almost imperceptible, the proboscis began to retract. It coiled back into the creature's mouthparts with a silent, fluid grace. The creature did not look away from Lin Ke. It held his gaze for one more second, a long, unreadable stare that promised nothing.
And then it simply… dissolved.
Its form flattened, its color shifted, and it melted back into the texture and shadow of the tree bark. There was a faint rustle of leaves high above as it retreated into the canopy, vanishing completely. It had made its calculation. The meal wasn't worth the risk.
Lin Ke remained frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He didn't let himself breathe until the last whisper of movement was gone.
He hadn't won. He hadn't defeated anything. He had simply been judged as too dangerous to bother with.
The wave of relief was so powerful it almost made him sick. He slumped forward, catching himself on his hands before his face hit the water. His entire body trembled with the adrenaline crash.
But there was no time for relief.
With shaking, muddy hands, he lunged for the moss. He began to harvest the glowing clumps, tearing them from the black mud with a desperate urgency. He held the soft, pulsating vegetation in his palm. It felt cool to the touch, and the gentle green light seemed to mock the encroaching darkness of the jungle.
He had it. He had the medicine.
But as he clutched the fragile hope in his hand, a new, cold dread washed over him. This wasn't a cure. It was a pause button. And he had no idea if he could get back to Chi Tong in time to press it.