“WHY DID THE GLASS BREAK? DID YOU PUT THIS ONE CLOSE TO THE EDGE?”

  “No. Each specimen was placed behind the line, far from the edge. I made sure of it.”

  “THEN WHY DID IT FALL? YOU WANT TO TELL ME THAT?”

  “…Maybe I forgot.”

  “DAMN IT. Let’s find the specimen. The boss will be furious—it was one of a kind.”

  They began searching in a panic, scanning every corner of the lab. He hid beneath a table—not far enough to be truly safe, but it was the only place available for now. As he looked around, he spotted a vent. Slowly, carefully, he crawled across the hard metal floor, his new body stumbling left and right as he moved from table to table. The researchers were too distracted to notice him.

  When he reached the vent, he hesitated. It might be more dangerous than the lab itself, but he had no choice. Taking a steadying breath, he slipped inside, making sure they could not reach him.

  The vent was empty. No insects. No movement. Nothing. The silence gave him a brief sense of relief, and his body finally relaxed.

  Now that he was safe, he tried to think. Why was he here? He had no memories of before—no past, no name, not even an image of what he once looked like. Reincarnation? Possession? He could not tell. One thing was clear, though: he had to survive. Answers could come later.

  A sound interrupted his thoughts.

  “A status window?” he thought.

  Suddenly, a translucent interface appeared in front of him.

  “What is all this? Is this really all the information I have about myself?”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Negative.”

  “WHO WAS THAT?”

  “This voice belongs to the status window assistant, also known as the Lumina Voice Assistant.”

  “Then tell me—where am I? Why am I here? How did I get here?”

  “Negative. The system is not authorized to provide information regarding your location, origin, or purpose.”

  “So what can you do?”

  “I possess multiple functions, including but not limited to: monitoring condition, recording growth, registering mutations, and displaying relevant data in real time. Would you like me to continue?”

  “No. Tell me why you said ‘negative’ earlier.”

  “In response to your inquiry regarding available self-information, I am authorized to display physical status, mental condition, and accessible data related to skills, achievements, and systems. What would you like to review?”

  “Show me my skills.”

  “Which skills would you like to review?”

  “All of them.”

  Three smaller windows appeared.

  “…That’s it?”

  “Affirmative. Additional information requires a system upgrade.”

  “What do I need for that?”

  “Opening requirements.”

  “When can I evolve?”

  “Evaluation indicates that you require 100 Varloon. Varloon may also be referred to as life essence or chi. It is used to sustain life, evolve, and activate or upgrade skills.”

  He checked his status again. Thirty Varloon.

  “How do I gain Varloon?”

  “By consuming other beings that possess Varloon.”

  “So varloon is like food.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Earlier, I completed a mission. What exactly is a mission?”

  “Missions are tasks provided by the system to facilitate growth. Three mission categories are currently available: Basic, Time-Based, and Situational. Achievements are separate and require notable accomplishments. You are not authorized to view locked achievements. Would you like to view your available missions?”

  “Show me.”

  He pushed the interface aside and observed the lab again. The researchers were still searching, turning the room upside down. For now, he stayed hidden.

  “Let’s go inward,” he thought.

  He crawled deeper into the vent—until a mechanical voice echoed through the shaft.

  “Activating cleaning sequence.”

  A wall of light appeared, advancing slowly and erasing everything in its path. Panic surged through him. He fled back toward the vent opening, relieved to see the laser was not accelerating. Even so, he had no choice but to return to the lab.

  Back under a table, he listened.

  “It’s probably in the vents. If we don’t catch it, the cleaning sequence will take care of it.”

  “A shame. A one-of-a-kind specimen, gone.”

  “Nothing escapes this facility.”

  They left, and the lights dimmed.

  Only then did he move.

  He climbed up a table leg and scanned the jars. Inside one, he spotted small worm-like creatures with mouths but no teeth. The sight made him recoil—but he was starving.

  Carefully, he knocked the jar to the edge and sent it crashing down. Some of the creatures died on impact. Others writhed among the glass shards.

  Using his needle-like legs, he cut one into smaller pieces. He hesitated, then swallowed a piece whole.

  It wasn’t bad. In fact, it tasted oddly familiar—like dried meat.

  Once finished, he gathered the remains and shards and returned them to the vent. The cleaning sequence had already erased the evidence. When the researchers returned, they would find nothing.

  For now, he was alive.