Chapter 2: First Predator
The forest was vibrant.
Not in the quiet, poetic way that humans romanticized. Not in the way that stories described gentle sunlight passing through trees.
This forest kept watch. Every shadow had a purpose, every rustle of leaves indicated danger, and every glimmer in the fog could be a predator sizing up prey.
Kelly had awareness, but he had no body, arms, or legs. A small, translucent blue blob rests on the damp forest floor.
Despite his fragile state, he was aware that he was being watched.
The first Hunger
A low growl penetrated the mist, vibrating through the thick roots and fallen leaves.
A predator emerged from the shadows: a hulking quadruped with coiled muscle on all four limbs, mottled dark-green scales, and pale, intelligent eyes. Its nostrils widened as it sniffed the air. Then, with a shuddering growl, it moved.
Kelly had no option. He could not flee. He did not even have limbs. But he felt something else: a subtle, instinctual pull from deep within.
Adapt.
The first skill that emerges is adaptive absorption.
Kelly's skin rippled as soon as the predator lunged.
His body hardened in the areas that had been hit.
Translucent spikes emerged, rigid but flexible.
His inner core pulsed faintly with golden light, the divine protection gently guiding adaptation without interfering.
The claws hit him. Pain radiated, but it was not fatal. Instead, it instructed him. His slime body analyzed each impact, reinforced itself, and changed shape to absorb the next blow.
The beast attacked again. This time, Kelly wrapped a portion of himself around the creature's leg. It roared and struggled. His spikes glistened in the mist as his body reshaped itself.
I can handle this and more.
Kelly didn't have a name for it yet, but instinct told him he had just discovered his first survival skill.
Experimentation begins.
The forest became silent. Not for peace, but because I was curious. Other predators took a pause to observe.
Kelly felt something stirring within him.
He concentrated and tested his body's limits:
He stretched the spikes further to see if he could increase the surface area and capture more attacks.
Modulating softness by allowing certain parts of his body to act as a cushion while others hardened.
Partial replication entails following the predator's path in order to anticipate strikes.
With each experiment, the predator failed. Its strikes became hesitant. Kelly pulsed in response, a faint blue shimmer spreading across his skin.
He found it interesting. I can change myself rather than simply reacting.
A small predator, a fox-like creature, attempted to circle him. Kelly flattened and stretched part of his body against the ground, absorbing the motion like water flowing around a stone. It swiped at him, but he responded instinctively, gently enveloping and bouncing it away.
This works.
hints of hierarchy
Eyes observed through the mist.
The small predators, now wary, withdrew. Larger shapes moved quietly behind trees. Even larger shadows—ancient, muscular, and deliberate—shifted their positions, taking note of this minor anomaly.
Kelly's initial predator was a foot soldier. This is a test. Somewhat of a gatekeeper. The true hierarchy extended far above him.
Alpha predators claimed territories with complete dominance.
Elder Beasts tended ancient hunting grounds and were patient, calculating, and feared even by their own species.
Monstrous Titans prowled areas that were off-limits even to other predators.
Beasts of the Abyss existed only in whispered stories—entities older than civilizations that could reshape forests and rivers to suit their needs.
The Monster Continent was alive with a rigid, ruthless hierarchy. Kelly realized, vaguely, that he was nothing more than a new variable in a well-established ecosystem.
Gate disturbance
While Kelly was practicing his first skills, something subtle shifted in the distance.
It's not wind. Not lightweight. not the predator's movements. Something else: a ripple through reality.
Above the mountains that surrounded the Monster Continent, a faint shimmer appeared—a gate.
The air around it vibrated slightly.
The leaves quivered in unnatural patterns.
Even the predator's eyes flickered toward it, sending shivers through muscle and scale.
Kelly could feel it as well, but he didn't understand it yet. Something about the Gate appealed to him: a chaotic, alien energy.
It's powerful.
The first predator, sensing Kelly's attention, growled nervously and fled into the forest. Kelly's pulse was faint.
This is only the beginning, he realized.
First Night on the Monster Continent
As night fell, Kelly experimented more:
Splitting himself into smaller blobs to test mobility.
His surface is designed to absorb and reflect minor impacts from falling debris and small forest hazards.
He shaped his body into crude spikes that could be extended and retract as needed.
With each experiment, he learned. The forest challenged him, and he responded. Not because he was gifted, but because he could never fail.
The Gate continued to shimmer faintly in the distance, posing a silent threat to the continent.
Kelly pulsed again, his golden aura flickering faintly in the moonlight. He was tiny. He wasn't strong. Nevertheless, he had survived.
And he had discovered that in this land, adaptation equaled power, and experimentation meant survival.