The nest gleamed faintly in the dark, walls hardened, reservoir still, trap waiting. Zeke lingered at its heart, pulsing faintly, but peace would not come. The hunger gnawed again. He could not ignore it. Not anymore.
Waiting for prey to stumble close had worked before. The ember-lizard. The rodents. Even the serpent. But each encounter had been chance, not choice. He thought bitterly: "Am I to spend this life cowering in a hole, waiting for danger to find me? That is not survival. That is surrender."
The thought churned in him until resolve hardened. If predators could track him, then he could track prey. If he was to endure, he must step onto the trail.
At first, the ashlands offered him nothing. He slithered across black stone and shifting soot, searching. He tried to listen with his body, pulsing awareness outward. Tiny vibrations answered him—ash drifting, insects scuttling. But they slipped away too quickly.
"Too shallow. I'm only brushing the surface."
He concentrated harder, threading mana through his mass to amplify the faint signals. The world expanded faintly. The tremor of tiny feet. The heat of faint sparks. A pattern. Distinct. Not predator, but prey.
"Yes… there. That one. It's consistent. A trail."
He followed. Slowly, cautiously, stretching himself across the soot to capture every mark. The prints were faint impressions, no deeper than scratches in dust. Once or twice, he lost them. Frustration bubbled: "No. I had it—where—? Again, I let it slip."
He paused, steadying himself. "Calm. Track the rhythm, not the step. A creature leaves more than footprints. It leaves heat, sound, disruption. Even ash remembers."
He tried again. This time he found the pattern and held it. The trail led to a shallow burrow. Faint sparks danced at its lip—ember-rodents.
He pulsed low, spreading himself thin across the burrow mouth. Then he split. Two fragments. One positioned on either side. He waited, silent, patient.
The rodents emerged in a squealing cluster, their eyes glimmering red in the haze. They hesitated, sensing faint warmth in the air. Then they darted forward.
Zeke struck.
Both fragments surged inward, pseudopods lashing. The rodents squealed, scattering—too late. He engulfed two, lashed a third against stone, and split his attention to cut off escape. It was chaos, his awareness strained to breaking, but for the first time it was deliberate chaos. When the ash stilled again, six rodents dissolved within him, their sparks fading into his mass.
He pulsed, exhilarated. "This… this is different. This is mine. I found them. I chose the moment. Not prey. Not victim. Hunter."
The System stirred.
[Assimilate Lv.4 → Lv.5]
He quivered, savoring the surge of refined absorption. The essence of prey no longer slipped away as quickly. He could draw it deeper, cleaner. Progress.
But hunger was not so easily silenced. The rodents gave him strength, but his body demanded more. The trail called him further.
He slithered on, following deeper vibrations. These were heavier, longer, patterned like the slither of scales. Caution prickled. Ember-lizard. Larger than rodents, swifter, dangerous. But also richer prey.
He hesitated. "Do I dare? Rodents are safe. This is risk. But if I shrink from risk now, I remain scavenger."
The decision burned through him. He pressed forward.
The trail wound through ash-choked ridges, scales scraping faint furrows into stone. Zeke followed carefully, splitting twice to test coordination. Each fragment pulsed faintly with mana, anchored by threads that stretched back to his core. He wobbled with the effort, nearly collapsing once. But he steadied. "This is the training. If I cannot hold fragments in peace, I will fail in war."
At last, he found it. The ember-lizard basked on a slab of blackened stone, its body glowing faintly with stored heat. It flicked its tongue, tasting the air, unaware of the hunter creeping near.
Zeke coiled low, fragments surrounding from either side. He pulsed with tension. "Not prey. Not prey. Strike first."
He lashed.
The first pseudopod struck the lizard's flank, snapping it sideways. The second fragment surged from behind, engulfing its tail. The lizard shrieked, fire flaring across its scales. Pain seared Zeke's mass. He nearly recoiled—but this time he pressed harder. His main body surged forward, clamping onto its head.
[Skill Activated: Assimilate]
The fire seared, but his pull was stronger. Heat poured into him, raw essence flowing down to his core. The lizard thrashed violently, but three bodies bound it at once. Its glow dimmed, its struggles waned, until at last it dissolved into his mass.
The System answered.
[Level Up: 8 → 9]
Energy flooded him. His body swelled, mass thickening. Strength, agility, vitality—all sharpened faintly. And mana deepened further, filling him until he trembled.
Zeke sagged in exhaustion, withdrawing fragments into one. He pulsed faintly, glow shimmering across the ash. He had tracked, hunted, killed—by choice, by intent.
Back in his nest, he sank into the reservoir, letting the memories wash through him. "Today, I walked the trail. I was not prey waiting to be found. I chose. I struck. I fed. This… this is the beginning."
He pulsed faintly, almost reverently. "Cass… I am learning. I will not crawl forever. If you still live, brother, then one day—I will find your trail too."
System Update
StatusName: Ezekiel AshbourneRace: Prime Slime (Unevolved)Level: 8 → 9Affinity: Fire (Basic), Light (Basic)
StatsSTR: 4 → 5AGI: 4 → 5VIT: 7 → 8WIL: 3RES: 8MNA: 24 → 27CTL: 5
SkillsActive Skills:
Split (Lv.2): Divide body into fragments. Fragments now sustain briefly under Zeke's control but drain mana.
Assimilate (Lv.4 → Lv.5): Absorb weak matter or energy to recover energy; chance to retain minor traits. Cleaner, more efficient absorption.
Pseudopod (Lv.3): Extend body into tentacle-like appendages. Steadier and more precise. Limited to two pseudopods.
Passive Skills:
Amorphous Body (Lv.4): Immune to blunt trauma, flexible morphology. Mass reshapes fluidly, adapting with far less strain.