The first thing he felt was cold.
Not the kind of cold that pricked at the skin, but a deep, bone-soaking chill that came from lying against damp stone. A draft whispered across his body, carrying with it the stench of mold, blood, and decay.
His eyes fluttered open.
And the world was… wrong.
The ceiling above was jagged stone, heavy with hanging stalactites that dripped water onto the ground with slow, rhythmic drops. The air shimmered faintly in patches, glowing mushrooms pulsing with sickly green light. He could hear it all too clearly: the rustling of insects in cracks, the squeaking of rats in the distance, and the faint slosh of something moving through liquid.
And when he tried to move, his body was not his own.
What… what the hell? My arms—where are my arms?
He looked down—or tried to. His neck twisted awkwardly, and instead of human skin, he saw brown scales glistening faintly under the mushroom's glow. Four clawed limbs scratched against stone. A long tail dragged heavily behind him.
A hiss escaped his throat, involuntary, startling him.
No… no way. This isn't real. This is a nightmare. I'm… I'm a lizard?
Panic surged. He stumbled forward clumsily, his body dragging along the cavern floor. His vision was sharper, catching every twitch of insect wings in the air, but narrower—focused, predatory. His tongue flicked instinctively, tasting the air, and information poured into his brain that he didn't even understand. Heat. Vibrations. Prey.
He froze.
This isn't just a dream… I've been reborn.
Memories swam faintly, scattered. A human life, broken in fragments. A street. Lights. Pain. A darkness swallowing him. And then…
A voice.
A deep, mocking voice.
"Fall, little soul. Fall into the dungeon where only the strong survive. If you can crawl from the bottom… perhaps you may climb the throne."
The memory sent chills through him.
Reborn. In a dungeon. As a lizard. Weakest of the weak…
His stomach growled violently, cutting his thoughts short. The hunger was unbearable, a raw, searing ache that clawed at his insides. It wasn't just physical hunger—it was instinct. A primal command etched into his very being.
Survive. Feed. Evolve.
The sound of skittering caught his attention.
A shadow darted across the cavern. From a hole in the wall, a giant dungeon rat scurried out, its fur patchy and gray, its red eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Its teeth clicked together as it sniffed the ground, searching.
The lizard's heart pounded.
That thing… it's bigger than me. Faster too. If it notices me, I'm dead.
He wanted to run. Every instinct screamed at him to slither back into the shadows, to curl up and hide. But another thought echoed, louder, heavier.
If I run… I'll starve. If I fight… I might die. But if I win… I live.
The rat's nose twitched. Its eyes snapped to him.
It lunged.
The lizard twisted violently, tail scraping stone as the rat's teeth snapped inches from his body. He darted sideways, claws scrambling for purchase. The rat spun, squeaking furiously, and leapt again.
This time, it caught his tail.
Agonizing pain shot through him. He shrieked, thrashing wildly, his body slamming against the rocks. The rat dug its teeth deeper, warm blood trickling down his scales.
No! No no no—I won't die like this!
Desperation gave him strength. He twisted his body, raking his claws against the rat's face. One strike caught its eye. The rat squealed, releasing his tail.
Before it could recover, he lunged. His jaws clamped onto the rat's throat. His teeth weren't sharp enough to pierce deeply, but he bit with every ounce of fury and terror in him.
The rat thrashed, clawing at him, slamming him against the ground. His vision blurred, pain lanced through his ribs, but he didn't let go. His jaw tightened, grinding down.
Warmth filled his mouth.
Blood.
Crunch.
The rat spasmed once, then went limp.
Silence filled the cavern, broken only by his ragged breaths. His body trembled, pain radiating from his wounds.
But the hunger roared louder.
He tore into the rat's flesh, devouring it in frenzied bites. Meat filled his belly, blood dripped from his snout. The taste was foul, raw, metallic—but to him, it was life itself.
And then—light.
Not from the mushrooms. From within. Words burned into his mind.
---
[You have slain Dungeon Rat.]
[Exp gained.]
[Evolution Path: 0.7% unlocked.]
---
He froze, staring into the darkness as the words echoed in his skull.
What… is this? A system? A rule of this world? Then… it's real. Killing, eating, surviving… it makes me stronger.
Slowly, his fear ebbed. Replaced by something else.
Hope.
The rat's body lay half-devoured beside him. His belly was full, his wounds ached, but he felt it. His body was already repairing, already changing.
He looked deeper into the endless tunnels of the dungeon. Shadows moved. Monsters hunted. Danger lurked everywhere.
But so did prey.
I'm weak now. A crawling lizard. But if I keep killing, if I keep eating, if I keep evolving… then one day, I'll no longer crawl. I'll stand above them all.
His eyes gleamed in the faint green glow.
I'll devour everything in this dungeon… and one day, I'll take the throne.