The cocoon split.
Light flared, cracks racing like veins of molten gold across its surface. For a long moment it held—then burst apart. Shards of brilliance scattered into the air and dissolved, leaving only a trembling body within. Zeke collapsed onto hard ground, sparks smoking from his skin. He coughed, the sound raw and strange, each breath dragging fire through a throat still learning what it meant to exist.
Air—or something like it—rushed into new lungs. His chest heaved, ribs aching as if they had been hammered into place one blow at a time. He coughed again, sparks flying from his lips. They burned briefly in the air before fading to ash. He gagged, rolled onto his side, and pressed clawed fingers into the earth. The touch staggered him: not pseudopods, not slime's fluid grasp, but hands. Hands that trembled, fingers splayed, claws scratching stone.
Zeke stared, wide-eyed. He flexed them slowly, tendons creaking, bones clicking. A shudder ran through him. He curled his hand into a fist and unclenched it again, repeating the motion as though to prove it was real. For the first time since his human life—his old life—he had arms again. He had hands. The realization was sharp enough to hurt.
He dragged in another breath. It caught in his throat, flared into embers that singed the back of his tongue. He coughed, a low sound, half-broken, half-growl. Smoke coiled from his lips. Instinct pulled more breath into his chest. He exhaled and sparks scattered with the air, faint threads of fire winding between them. He froze, chest tight. He had breathed out flame.
A trembling laugh escaped him, though it cracked midway. "I…" The word broke. His throat tightened, refusing more. He could not remember when he had last spoken. He tried again, but only a rasp came, strained and unfinished. His body was not ready for words. His throat was not yet his.
Still shaking, Zeke pushed himself upright. His reflection shimmered faintly in the fading sparks clinging to the ground. What he saw froze him more than any fire.
Eyes stared back—his own, yet not. Golden irises slit by vertical pupils, predatory and alien. Flecks of silver and shadow swirled within them, shifting when his mana pulsed. The gaze unsettled even him, sharp and heavy, as though something far older watched from behind them.
Horns curved back from his skull, full and draconic. Black at their base, streaked with silver and gold lines that glowed faintly when his breath quickened. They gleamed raw, unpolished, edges sharp. He lifted a clawed hand and touched one. The pulse of mana answered, resonating from horn to clawtip. He flinched.
Beneath his pale skin, patches of dark metallic scales shimmered, edged faintly in gold. They lay in ordered lines across his chest, shoulders, ribs, and forearms—symmetrical, not the chaotic scattering he had seen on beasts. His reflection caught the scales, firelight running across them like constellations. His body was still boyish—slight frame, wiry limbs, a lean strength tempered by survival—but it carried armor within itself.
His hair hung in uneven strands, dark with threads that glimmered when sparks touched them. Red undertones shimmered when embers stirred, silver glinted when light flared, shadows swallowed strands when darkness rippled. Wild, untamed, it framed his horns and sharp eyes with feral defiance.
His aura leaked uncontrolled. Wisps of darkness curled from his skin. Radiant motes drifted upward like dust caught in sunlight. Faint sparks of fire flickered with each exhale. He did not radiate savagery. He radiated rawness, unshaped power bleeding into the world because his body did not yet know how to hold it.
Zeke trembled. He touched his face. His cheek was soft. His jaw was sharp. His chest rose and fell. His throat rasped when he breathed. He had a body again. Not slime. Not lattice. Flesh.
The world answered.
Evolution Complete.[Prime Slime] → [Half-Blood Drakyn (Primeling)]
Race Advancement Recorded.Classification: Primeling — beings who evolve from Prime Slimes into other races, retaining adaptive skills from slime origin.
Status Updated.
Status
Name: Ezekiel Ashbourne
Race: Half-Blood Drakyn (Primeling)
Level: 1
Affinity: Fire (Intermediate), Darkness (Intermediate), Light (Intermediate)
Stats
STR: 28 → 40
AGI: 24 → 34
VIT: 30 → 42
WIL: 18 → 20
RES: 26 → 30
MNA: 72 → 75
CTL: 40 → 42
Class
Archetype: [Locked]
Class Name: [Locked]
Description: [N/A]
Stat Multipliers: [N/A]
Skills
Active Skills:
Core Division → Sub-Soul Resonance (Lv.1): The ten fragments evolve into Sub-Souls, embryonic sparks of identity. Each can act semi-independently, harmonize with vessels, and wield affinities. Their strength and independence scale with level.
Morphic Arms → Draconic Morphism (Lv.1): Morph existing body parts into draconic traits (horns, claws, scales, tail, teeth). Transformation range expands with level. Affinities channel seamlessly through these morphs.
Draconic Surge (Lesser, Lv.1): Burst of draconic mana temporarily amplifies STR + AGI.
Passive Skills:
Vessel Chambers → Vessel Expansion (Lv.1): With vessels awakened, this skill increases their capacity and stability, preventing overload.
Sovereign Crucible → Draconic Crucible (Lv.1): The Drakyn body functions as a living crucible, tempering mana seamlessly and weaving affinities directly into flesh. STR, AGI, and VIT scaling is sharply enhanced.
Essence Feast → Essence Furnace (Lv.1): Digestion adapted — Zeke can process virtually any consumed matter into fuel and nutrients. Efficiency scales with level.
Crossblood Resilience (Lv.1): Partial resistance to elements with affinity. Scales with level and RES
Bloodline Regeneration (Lv.1): Flesh and scales knit rapidly when fueled by mana or blood.
Vessels
Body Vessel
Tempering: None
Condition: Stable
Collapse Risk: None
Bottleneck: None
Rank: None
Soul Vessel
Tempering: None
Condition: Stable
Collapse Risk: None
Bottleneck: None
Rank: None
Mana Vessel
Tempering: None
Condition: Stable
Collapse Risk: None
Bottleneck: None
Rank: None
Evolution
Prime Slime → Half-Blood Drakyn (Primeling)
Next Evolution: [Locked]
Requirements: Awakened Rank in two vessels, Level 50
Lineage
Bloodline: Prime Slime → Half-Blood Drakyn (Primeling)
Authority: [N/A]
Traits:
Hybrid Adaptability: +10% faster leveling speed across all vessels.
Primeling Heritage: Vessels are stronger and more adaptive than normal Half-Blood Drakyn.
Mana Body (Residual): Mana integrates into flesh, echo of Prime Slime origin.
Racial Imprint: [Asuran Neo-Nephilim Primogenitor]
Records
Past Evolutions: Prime Slime
Titles: None
Achievements: None
Cycle
Regression: [Neo-Human] → [Neo-Human]
Reincarnation: [Asuran Neo-Nephilim Primogenitor] → [Prime Slime]
Evolution: [Prime Slime] → [Half-Blood Drakyn (Primeling)]
Stat Gains
Per Level Up:
+4 MNA
+2 CTL
+1 WIL
+1 STR
+1 VIT
+1 AGI (odd levels only)
+1 RES (every 4 levels)
The cascade ended. The light of the system window dissolved, its afterimage burned into his sight. Zeke stared into the darkness left behind, chest still heaving.
Primeling. The word settled heavy, foreign, yet familiar. It was what he was now. Neither Slime nor Drakyn, but something twisted from both. His stats had surged. His affinities had sharpened. Skills he had clung to in desperation had remade themselves to fit this new shell. He was no longer the creature that had crawled through ash and hunger. He was something else.
But the system's cold declarations meant less than the simple fact that he could breathe. That he could lift a hand and see it tremble. That he had a voice again, however broken.
Zeke dragged his claws across the ground, leaving faint lines in the stone. He lifted his gaze to the horizon of sparks fading into shadow. His pupils caught the light and narrowed, slicing it thin. He blinked, and the world looked sharper than before, every edge edged with threat and clarity.
He had been forged. Yet the loneliness gnawed deeper. Flesh reminded him of what he had lost. A body that looked closer to human only sharpened the ache of absence. Cass. Aunt Kat. Uncle Alexi. Grandpa. Zein and Zia.
His throat closed. He tried again for words. None came. Only a rasp, a broken whisper of sound. He let it fade, lowered his head, and sat in silence.
Sparks dimmed around him. The ash beneath his claws felt cold. His aura flickered without rhythm, fire, light, and darkness bleeding uncontrolled.
He exhaled, slow, steady, forcing the tremor down. He would learn. He would master this body. He would speak again. For now, breathing was enough.
For now, this was his first breath.