— Oh, crap
The sun was beginning to shine.
The Garm, still happy, snorted near the body that Jarek entered on pure instinct.
To say he didn't recognize himself would be an understatement. Jarek was genuinely terrified of his own actions.
After their brief fight, he regained consciousness after devouring the dog, which he now recognized as the leader of these creatures... or rather, the former one. If he didn't vomit, it was because it was physically impossible.
Now things made a bit more sense: the meteorite, his useless defensive abilities, and the fact that he was now literally inside a living organism without harming it made it clear.
—i... I'm a sym...
The host Garm yawned so loudly it sounded more like a scream.
—¡Shut up, Martin! — Annoyed at being interrupted, he formed a tentacle to smack the annoying dog's nose. For better or worse, the dog just went back to sleep after another deep yawn.
Jarek cursed the mangy mutt.
The bulky figure and clumsy, noisy breathing of the pug-like creature reminded him of his chubby little companion, Martin, so he started calling this thing by that name to feel a bit more at ease.
He could 'see' inside and outside Martin's body—every muscle, every cell in motion—while maintaining a 360-degree view of his surroundings. Whether he used Martin's eyes or any other part, including the skin. It was so strange yet oddly comfortable to be inside something alive. He no longer felt the hunger or cold that had been bothering him since he emerged from the meteorite.
—Whatever, this is a million times better than being a boring slime.
For the first time since arriving in this unknown place, Jarek felt happy.
Of course, he'd still choose to go back to his old Doritos-filled body if given the chance, but now he was a symbiote!... or at least something very close to it.
He'd never considered himself a fan of the Klyntar race or comics in general, but he wasn't completely ignorant about them either. He'd read enough to understand most of their abilities.
—¿But why, of all the things I could've turned into, did it have to be a fictional species?
There was no way to even begin forming a theory with the scant information Jarek had about his current situation. Whether he had truly died in his sleep or hit his head while exploring the city, it didn't matter in the end. He'd probably never get answers to any of his existential questions.
His melancholy returned immediately, smothering the excitement of being a bluish, veiny symbiote.
Even though he couldn't be closer to something alive at this moment, he felt lonelier than he ever had in his life.
Martin seemed to sense his guest's mood and immediately licked the shoulder where Jarek had used his tentacle, trying to cheer him up. An act that touched the little symbiote more than he'd like to admit.
—You're not so bad, you know?
Looking at Martin, an idea sparked like a beacon in the darkness.
—¡That's right, now we're the bosses!
He shoved the unnecessary thoughts to the back of his mind to focus on what he'd do from now on. From what he could tell, there were over 200 dogs gathered in this abandoned village. If at least half of them had the courage the former leader had shown, they were practically an invincible group, to say the least.
Even in his work as a wildlife photographer, he'd never seen a pack as deadly as this one. If he used them carefully, he could achieve countless things that would surely bring him unimaginable riches—
A pup suddenly fell to the ground, lifeless. Its siblings didn't hesitate to rush over and morbidly devour the corpse without a hint of emotion. The supposed mother not only didn't try to stop them but joined in, tearing off her pup's head and swallowing it in one bite.
—Ugh... ahem, nothing's perfect anyway. Just minor details.
As he closely observed the pack, his hopes of forming an invincible army faded. Focusing a bit, Jarek could access some of Martin's memories, and aside from their migrations every few decades, these dogs spent most of their time sleeping, mating, eating slow prey they'd stockpiled, or practicing cannibalism.
They were a bunch of lazy bums!
Not even lions were as idle as these wretched creatures. Once they reached adulthood, there was no changing their awful habits. The pups weren't any better.
Half of them died from wandering too far, due to terrible maternal neglect, or from their excessively aggressive games. It was literally a miracle that there were so many adults without visible serious injuries or missing limbs.
But Jarek still held onto a sliver of hope, smaller than a tardigrade.
—Just you and me, Martin. We're an army of one mangy mutt!
The only response Jarek got was snoring.
—I give up!
.....
— Keep it up, you little bastard.
The small pup approached the piece of meat Jarek had thrown. His hopes soared as the pup navigated the obstacles he had set up beforehand with near perfection, even displaying a slight elegance in its movements.
—That's it, just a little more.
Jarek's heart warmed at the promising results his training regimen was showing. All the effort he'd poured into this little project didn't seem to be in vain. However, the pup suddenly snapped, tearing through the remaining obstacles in a furious tantrum, not even bothering to take the meat it had been working for in the first place.
—Ugh... it's impossible, I can't take it anymore. Now i really give up!
His gelatinous body retreated deep into the massive Martin.
Jarek felt a heavy unease in his nonexistent stomach.
¿How could something that didn't even exist hurt? He decided not to dwell on it and focus on maintaining his mental health.
He added another mark to the wall of his hut, joining the countless others that tracked the days since Jarek had started living in the abandoned village with the pack of demonic dogs—or whatever they were called.
The walls of the small hut were completely covered, inside and out, with these marks. Jarek looked at them with evident regret, wanting to cry for all the wasted time.
Three months thrown in the trash. Three damn months in a sad, pathetic attempt to tame and train these dogs. Even though he was technically the leader, his efforts and dreams of forming a canine army would never be more than a dream.
—Seriously, guys. ¿How have you not gone extinct yet?
Martin's orders (which were really Jarek's) were more like outrageous and annoying suggestions to the rest of the pack. Jarek quickly realized the adults were a lost cause, so he shifted his focus to the next generations, hoping to, with some luck, bring an elite canine force into this world and ensure his survival.
'What an idiot.'
He mocked himself before taking control of his sleeping host's body and stepping out to clear his mind.
During this time, he hadn't just focused on training the pups. Since Martin's favorite activity was sleeping, Jarek took advantage of the long stretches of free time to get to know himself and his current abilities. He could now proudly say he had near-perfect control over his new symbiotic powers. Using Martin's sleeping body wasn't a challenge at all.
Most of the dogs were still asleep. The only ones awake at this hour were the females, preparing to hunt and eat the first unfortunate soul that became their breakfast. By now, he was used to this monotonous routine.
Wake up, take a walk, wait for his 'companions' to bring him breakfast, lunch, and dinner all at once, sleep, and repeat the next day.
It was a lifestyle that depressed Jarek. The thrill of being a symbiote had burned out like a piece of paper in a sea of crimson flames.
—Damn it, my years as a failed poet are starting to take over my mind. I need to get out of here, or I'll go insane!
In truth, he had tried several times to leave this filthy village and explore the surroundings, but Martin always refused to take a single step outside his home.
It wasn't fear, not by a long shot. What kept him there was his 'responsibility as a leader.' Pretty hypocritical, considering he didn't care that at least five pack members died daily, either from stupidity or because someone hungrier devoured them.
The most sensible thing would be to abandon Martin and use one of the many other dogs to leave. It was the most logical course of action, but for reasons Jarek himself didn't understand, he was reluctant to let him go.
¿Had his mind become that of a Klyntar along with his body, making the idea of abandoning him abhorrent?
After all, they had been one being for three months. Long enough to grow fond of anyone, even if you weren't living in their guts.
Whatever the reason, he felt a strange attachment to this rude, mangy mutt. If is possible, he'd prefer to stay by his side as long as he could and grow stronger together.
Forcing Martin to leave was, of course, out of the question.
He was truly at a dead end.
—If Martin weren't so lovable, I'd have already beaten these lazy bums into shape and forced them to migrate early!
It was an incredibly tempting idea, and with his current strength, it wasn't entirely impossible. But unfortunately, he'd have to bury it deep in his mind until he came up with something better.
Jarek covered Martin's legs with his symbiotic mass and leaped to the tallest tower in the village. From here, he had a good view of the entire area. He occasionally came up to do a quick check of the surroundings, always hoping something interesting would happen to break this infernal monotony.
—Bird, tree, bush…
With nothing better to do, he began identifying and counting the objects around him. An activity that might seem pointless at first but had actually been helping him stay sane.
However, the more he counted, the more the idea of being trapped in this place indefinitely crept back to haunt him.
¿Would he waste his second chance in a place like this?
He feared that possibility was becoming more real with each passing day.
—Big bush, bigger bush, goblin… Oh, a goblin!
He thought excitedly as he spotted the small creature, along with a group of about 20 other goblins, stealthily approaching from the bushes. This wasn't the first time he'd seen those wretched things. Jarek had experienced a series of attacks over the past three months.
About 1.2 meters tall, with blue skin tinged with a reddish hue, cinnamon-brown eyes, and disgusting claws so sharp they could slice through necks like butter. The first time they came to attack in a foolish, pathetic attempt to steal the dogs' food, Jarek was thrilled.
Seeing such a classic, familiar creature filled him with immense nostalgia and gave him a glimpse of all the possibilities this new world offered.
His mind had already opened to the vast array of magical adventures and journeys of self-discovery waiting to be experienced by his sticky symbiotic body when he first saw Martin. But since Martin was some kind of unknown monster to him, it hadn't sparked the same excitement in his fantasy-loving side as the goblins did. Now, those goblins had become a pain in the ass, but Jarek still liked it when they came to stir up trouble every now and then.
Sensing the approaching danger, Martin woke up and immediately started growling. Whether he noticed the height they were at or not was something Jarek preferred not to find out. He simply let himself fall while covering the rest of his host's body with his symbiotic mass.