Darkness pressed in like wet earth.
Then—a violent jolt. Like breaking the surface after too long underwater.
I… existed?
No name arrived. No memories. No language beyond the simplest pulse: "survive".
My body—if this slippery thing could be called mine—was absurdly small. A dark-red, glistening worm no longer than five centimeters, ringed with faint muscular bands. Four thread-thin tendrils extended from what I instinctively knew was the "front," twitching, tasting the air. Tentacles. Primitive. Useless. "Hungry".
A wet, ripping *crunch* split the silence.
Vision swam into focus—blurry, primitive, more heat-shape than color. Less than a meter away, a massive wolf hunched over fresh kill. Shoulders bunched, gray fur matted crimson. Its jaws worked in frenzy, tearing strips from the opened belly of a boar-like creature—thicker hide, longer curving tusks, strange bony ridge along the spine. Steam rose from the exposed guts.
And I… I was "on" it. Coiled in a shallow fold of torn flank muscle, half-buried in cooling blood and viscera, invisible among the slaughter.
The wolf ate with single-minded ferocity. Head low. Ears flicking only at flies. Eyes half-lidded in gluttony. A wide, ragged wound gaped at the side of its neck—where tusk or claw had torn deep during the struggle. Bright arterial blood still pulsed from it in sluggish spurts.
Something older than thought uncoiled inside me.
"Wait."
I went still. Completely still. The tentacles flattened against my body like folded blades. The wolf tore again—another wet rip, another gout of hot fluid spattering the ground. Its focus never left the steaming organs.
"Now."
Instinct took the body before any mind could argue.
I moved.
A quick, liquid slither across cooling hide. Up the shoulder. Along the straining neck. The wolf gave a single sharp twitch of its ear—annoyed at what it probably registered as another damn fly. Then my whole minuscule form arrowed into the open wound.
Heat. Immediate, overwhelming heat. Blood flooded every surface, salty-iron thick. Muscle walls squeezed reflexively around me as I pushed forward—past torn fascia, between pulsing vessels—driven by one screaming directive: "deeper".
The wolf paused for half a heartbeat. A low huff escaped its nostrils, a brief shake of the head like shaking off water. Then it lowered its muzzle again and ripped into another loop of intestine. Whatever irritation I caused was already forgotten. The feast continued.
No seizure. No howl. No collapse.
Just meat being eaten.
I kept moving.
Through slick tunnels of tissue, following the strongest current of heat and throb—the carotid artery first, then veering away from its dangerous hammer-beat. Deeper still. Past layers of strap muscle. Until I felt something harder, ridged, unyielding.
Bone.
The cervical vertebrae—stacked, knobby, wrapped in a glistening sheath of ligament and nerve. A perfect groove ran along the side of one, a natural channel where blood vessels and nerves threaded like rivers beside a mountain range.
I wedged myself there.
Tentacles spread, hooking gently into the tough connective tissue—not tearing, just anchoring. The steady drum of the wolf's pulse vibrated through the bone itself. Warm. Constant. Safe, for now.
A flicker appeared in the void behind my thoughts. Not sound. Not light. Just burning letters.
—---
[Host acquired]
—---
That was all.
No percentages. No overrides. No promises of power.
Just the fact: I had a place inside something vastly larger than myself.
The wolf tore off another mouthful, jaws working, throat swallowing.
Its body moved on, oblivious or uncaring that something small and red now rested along the bones of its neck.
The wolf devoured the boar-thing with mechanical efficiency. Jaws snapped, bones cracked, flesh vanished down its gullet. I clung to the cervical vertebrae, a silent passenger in the storm of muscle and blood. Every swallow vibrated through the bone, a rhythmic thunder that drowned out my fledgling thoughts.
Hunger gnawed at me—not the wolf's, but mine. Faint, insistent. The blood flowing past my anchored form carried traces of nutrients, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.
Finally, the wolf lifted its head. Gore dripped from its muzzle. It sniffed the air once, twice—then bolted.
Motion hit like a whirlwind. The world blurred through the wolf's senses, bleeding faintly into mine: scents of pine and rot, the thud of paws on damp earth, wind whipping fur. I wasn't controlling it. Not even sensing fully. Just... echoes. Distant, like overhearing a conversation through a wall.
Trees whipped by. The forest thickened, shadows deepening. The wolf ran with purpose, following a worn path scarred by clawed feet. Not wild. Guided.
A camp emerged ahead—crude, chaotic. Flickering firelight danced on rough hides stretched over sticks. Figures moved: squat, green-skinned, armored in rags and scavenged metal. Goblins? The word bubbled up from nowhere, a fragment of forgotten knowledge. Smaller ones scampered, chittering. Taller, broader ones—hobgoblins—barked orders, clubs in hand.
The wolf slowed, trotting into the clearing before a yawning cave mouth. It lowered its head submissively as a burly hobgoblin approached, grunting approval. A domesticated beast. A pet? Guard? The wolf flopped down near the fire, panting, oblivious to the intruder in its spine.
That's when it flickered again—the burning letters in my void-mind.
—--
[Host Status]
Species: Joravez Forest Wolf (Domesticated Variant)
Health: Critical (Internal Bleeding Detected)
Estimated Time to Death: 2-4 Hours
Recommendation: Seek New Host
—--
The words hung there, stark. No explanation. Just fact.
Panic surged—raw, unfiltered. "Death?" The wolf would die, and I'd... what? Be exposed? Crushed? The thought clawed at me.
I focused, probing deeper into the flicker. More letters unfolded, like unfolding a map in the dark.
—--
[Skill List]
- Parasitic Anchor (Passive): Maintain position in host tissue. Current Efficiency: Low.
- Essence Siphon (Active): Absorb minor nutrients from host blood.
- Temporary Override (Active): Seize partial control of the host for a short duration. Duration: 60 seconds. Cooldown: 1 hour.
- Sense Sharing (Active): Allows the user to share sensory input between connected entities. Pain and physical stimuli are perceived at reduced intensity.
—--
"Temporary Override." That one pulsed brighter, instinctive. Useful.
But why now? My "vision"—still heat-blurry, filtered through bone—shifted. I sensed it: warmth leaking from the wolf's rear. Blood. Not from the neck wound. Deeper gashes on the thighs, hidden under fur, seeping steadily. The boar-thing's final revenge. Tusks must have scored deep during the kill.
The wolf whimpered softly, shifting. The hobgoblins laughed, one tossing it a scrap of meat. But I knew. It was weakening. Fading.
No time. Instinct screamed again: "Act."
I triggered it. "Temporary Override."
Power flooded—thin, electric. Not full control. Just enough. The wolf's body jerked upright, muscles tensing under my command. Eyes—its eyes, now mine for the moment—locked on the nearest hobgoblin. The big one who'd approached earlier. Broad shoulders, scarred green skin, a crude club slung at its belt.
Charge.
The wolf lunged, faster than it should have been. Jaws clamped on the hobgoblin's upper arm—teeth sinking deep into muscle. Blood sprayed, hot and coppery. I held on. Didn't let go. The override burned brighter, forcing the bite to lock.
The hobgoblin roared, pain twisting its ugly face. It swung a fist—meaty, calloused—crashing into the wolf's side. Ribs cracked audibly. The wolf yelped, but I pushed harder. "Hold."
Another punch. Then a third. The hobgoblin staggered back, arm bleeding profusely, but the wolf clung like a leech.
"Filthy mutt!" it snarled in a guttural tongue I somehow understood. It grabbed for its club, yanking it free with the free hand. The other goblins backed away, hooting in alarm.
The club came down. First strike crippled the shoulder—pain exploded through the link, shared agony. Second cracked against the flank. Third—aimed true—smashed into the skull.
Bone splintered. The world spun. The override flickered out, 60 seconds gone.
Darkness rushed in again. But this time, I saw opportunity in the chaos. The hobgoblin's blood mixed with the wolf's, a new warmth calling to me.
The host was breaking. But I wasn't done.