The ashlands were not blind. For every rodent he devoured, every insect swarm he scattered, for every pit he built and kill he dragged into the ash, Zeke left a mark. Sparks. Smell. Disturbance. The ashlands remembered. And predators followed memory.
It began with vibrations. Heavy, padded, deliberate. Not lions—these were lighter, quicker, but numerous. Zeke pulsed low in his nest, threads of mana stretched into the ash. Six… no, seven signatures. A pack.
They came with laughter. Hyena-laughter. Dry, rattling barks that scraped the air. Ash-hyenas.
Their bodies were gaunt, ember-eyed, their hides cracked with glowing fissures. Each step left claw marks seared faintly into the soot. They were scavengers, yes, but ruthless ones. They followed the scent of prey, of blood, of weakness. And Zeke's trail had drawn them straight to his nest.
He pulsed sharply, unease rippling. "I built walls. I thought that meant safety. But walls invite attack. I have made a beacon."
The pack circled the fissure, ember-eyes gleaming. They did not rush at once. They tested. One padded close, sniffing at the slit of his entrance, then scratched claws against it, listening to the sound. Another scraped along the outer wall, testing the strength. They were not mindless beasts. They were patient hunters.
Zeke held still, dimming his glow, feeling each vibration echo through the slime of his walls. Every scrape, every claw-mark was a warning. "They are probing. Looking for weakness. If I miscalculated my walls, they will find it."
At last, one lunged. The tunnel shuddered as claws struck, slime walls trembling. Zeke hissed inwardly and triggered his trap. The floor sagged, slime giving way. The hyena yelped, tumbling into sticky secretion. It thrashed, snarling, as slime clung to its legs. Its struggles clogged the narrow passage, blocking the others.
For a heartbeat, hope surged. "Good. It works. They cannot all come at once."
But the laughter only grew. The pack surged forward together, their weight shaking the walls, their voices filling the tunnel. Claws tore at hardened slime. Teeth cracked stone. The entrance shrieked with force.
Zeke split, fragments rolling to either side of the tunnel. Pseudopods lashed, striking the first intruder. The blow cracked across its muzzle, blood spraying ash. But more poured in, ember-eyes gleaming.
The tunnel became a storm of snarls and laughter. Hyenas slammed against slime walls, snapping at hardened ridges, ripping layers apart. Zeke lashed again, but the narrow space left no room to retreat. He met them head-on.
The first hyena forced through, jaws clamping down. Teeth shredded his mass, tearing chunks free. Zeke convulsed—then split instantly, forcing a fragment down its throat. The beast gagged, choking as slime poured inside. He surged outward, engulfing lungs in a tide of acid secretion. The hyena collapsed, body spasming, then stilled.
But two more surged past its corpse, snapping and clawing. Zeke's pseudopods lashed, striking eyes, cracking bone. He flowed across the tunnel floor, reshaping, slipping beneath their strikes. Each motion tore at him, each scrape stripping slime away. But his mass adapted, hardened where they struck, softened where he slipped.
[Amorphous Body Lv.5 → Lv.6]
The fight sharpened him. He flowed smoother, resilience adapting mid-blow. The tunnel itself became his body—narrow, suffocating, constricting. Predators forced their way in, but they entered his domain.
A third hyena leapt, jaws snapping onto a pseudopod. It ripped, tearing slime free. Pain lanced through him. But Zeke twisted, turned weakness to weapon. The pseudopod lashed upward, still attached, smashing the beast into the tunnel wall. Stone cracked, ember-eyes dimmed.
[Pseudopod Lv.4 → Lv.5]
The limb no longer felt clumsy. It struck clean, snapped fast, not rope but whip.
Still, the pack pressed. Five left, laughter cruel and endless. They lunged together, bodies slamming into walls. Stone cracked, slime peeled, the tunnel groaned.
Zeke pulsed sharply, forcing calm. "Pressure points. They are striking the weak ridges. I must hold there."
He split again, fragments pressing outward to reinforce collapsing walls. His body became scaffolding, holding the tunnel together even as teeth and claws tore at it. Each second felt like an eternity. But every heartbeat he endured meant the trap, the narrowness, still worked in his favor.
One hyena forced half its body through, eyes blazing. It lunged, jaws snapping inches from his core. Zeke lashed a pseudopod directly into its throat, smashing it back. The beast gagged blood, then fled with a yelp.
The others faltered. They snapped once more, then broke. Howling, ember-eyes flashing, the survivors turned and fled into the ash. Their laughter faded into distance.
Zeke sagged within the tunnel, glow dim and trembling. Walls cracked, slime traps ruined, the reservoir splashed half-empty from the tremor. The nest still stood, but scarred.
He pulsed faintly, exhausted. "Safety is illusion. Every wall invites teeth. Every victory leaves scars. The ashlands do not let you hide forever."
And yet, he had endured. Predators had come. And predators had fled.
The thought steadied him. "If I can hold here, I can hold anywhere. But I must be sharper. Stronger. Every strength becomes a signal. If I fail to adapt, they will return—and next time, it will not be hyenas."
The thought burned, but it was true. The ashlands had noticed him now. He was no longer invisible. He was a player in its endless, brutal game.
[WIL +1]
Resolve settled like stone in his core. He would not crumble. Not here. Not ever.
System Update
StatusName: Ezekiel AshbourneRace: Prime Slime (Unevolved)Level: 10Affinity: Fire (Basic), Light (Basic)
StatsSTR: 5AGI: 5VIT: 8WIL: 3 → 4RES: 8MNA: 32CTL: 6 → 7
SkillsActive Skills:
Split (Lv.2): Divide body into fragments. Fragments now sustain briefly under Zeke's control but drain mana.
Assimilate (Lv.5): Absorb weak matter or energy to recover energy; chance to retain minor traits. Cleaner, more efficient absorption, but increasingly demanding.
Pseudopod (Lv.4 → Lv.5): Extend body into tentacle-like appendages. Whip-like precision and striking power. Limited to two pseudopods.
Passive Skills:
Amorphous Body (Lv.5 → Lv.6): Immune to blunt trauma, flexible morphology. Reshapes seamlessly under combat pressure.