He moved through the lab with purpose, memorizing safe routes, blind spots, and potential area he can sleep in. Anything that could keep him alive mattered. Near the exit door, the researchers stored the safest insects—the best food available for now. Riskier to obtain, but worth it.

  Reaching a secure hiding place, he planned his next steps. Food had to be secured. Exposure had to be avoided. Varloon had to increase—quickly. Evolution was no longer optional.

  For now, hunger could wait.

  “Lumina?”

  “What can I assist you with?”

  “How much Varloon do I have?”

  “You currently possess 50 Varloon. Would you like to view your status window?”

  “No. Show me my missions.”

  “Opening mission window.”

  “This one isn’t showing. Is that normal?”

  “Yes. This is a situational mission. You have met the conditions to unlock it, but not the requirements to view its details.”

  “Then how do I complete it?”

  “You may unlock the Notes system. It provides vague guidance toward mission objectives.”

  “…Vague?”

  “It is intentional. Give the user hints on how to unlock it”

  “Fine. Unlock it.”

  “Insufficient Varloon. Requirement: 100.”

  He paused. “I can unlock system features with Varloon?”

  “Affirmative. Would you like to access the shop?”

  “Yes. Open it.”

  after

  “I need something useful now.”

  After a brief search, Lumina displayed a list.

  “Which one you want to buy?”

  “what is appraise?”

  “that sound pretty much needed, purchase”

  “purchase confirmed”

  “show me mass eater, insignificant and camouflage.”

  “these are expensive” he thought

  “mass eater sound like it pays itself”

  Going out he try his new appraise trait on the wormlike insects

  “Perfect.”

  As he climbed toward the jars, a sound froze him in place.

  He slipped behind a jar as the door opened. Two guards entered, scanning the lab.

  Their uniforms read: M.O. Entertainment – Warden-7.

  The name triggered buried knowledge.

  M.O. Entertainment—a multi-planet colonial corporation. Slave cities built on false hope. Gambling dens, drug markets, organ harvesting. Freedom sold as an illusion.

  “…Could be worse,” he thought grimly.

  “At least I’m still alive.”

  They lingered. Minutes stretched into hours. By the time they finally left, hunger clawed at him.

  He wasted no time.

  two jars fell. Five baby Silth consumed.

  “Good. Buy Mass Eater.”

  “Purchase confirmed.”

  He finished the remaining Silth.

  He cleaned the glass shards and retreated to the vent. Upgrading here was dangerous—but necessary.

  “Begin.”

  Pain detonated across his back.

  Soft flesh hardened. Skin compressed, folded, twisted. His body convulsed as segments collapsed inward. Consciousness slipped away.

  The process continued regardless.

  Layers formed. Hardened. Locked into place.

  A shell—unfinished, but real—took shape.

  Waking, the pain had subdued. He stood on trembling legs.

  “Damn… Hey Lumina?”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Why was it so painful?”

  “The pain can be reduced by leveling up or using pain-reducing traits. Would you like to purchase one?”

  “Yes.”

  After a short search, Lumina displayed a list.

  “Which one can I buy?”

  “Not available at your current level.”

  “Damn. Can I start evolving right now?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Okay. How does it work?”

  “I’ll provide a list of possible evolutions.”

  A window popped up.

  “What does each evolution do?”

  “Each path shapes your body and traits toward a specific lifeform. You may gain other traits later, but not as effectively.”

  He stared at the evolution window. Each choice whispered promises of power—and warnings he couldn’t yet understand. He could choose now… or wait. But time would not wait for him. His hand trembled . And then, silence.