I woke up slowly.
Thoughts surfaced like they were being dragged through syrup—sticky, heavy, unwilling to move. A yawn slipped out of me, followed by a groan as I tried to figure out why it was so dark. Was it still night? And why did my body feel… wrong? Not sore. Not numb. Just—incorrect.
A faint crack echoed above me. Light spilled through a thin fracture overhead, sharp and blinding, stabbing into whatever counted as my eyes now and making me recoil on instinct.
What is happening?
The crack widened. Something broke loose, and fresh air rushed in—cool and damp, thick with unfamiliar scents.
Green and earthy—alive.
Trees overhead. Leaves in my face. Sky beyond.
The rest of the shell collapsed around me in brittle fragments, and I froze.
I wasn't in my bed. I wasn't in my room. I wasn't anywhere familiar.
I was lying in dirt, half-buried in a shattered shell, surrounded by other eggs—dozens of them—splitting open one by one as pale, shifting things wriggled free. My chest tightened as my thoughts tried to catch up.
This isn't right. Am I dreaming?
Something massive loomed over me. I looked up, and my brain rejected what it saw.
A grotesque shape crouched above the nest—low and slumped, its body spread against the ground like melted flesh that hadn't decided what form it wanted. Pale, slick skin sagged and quivered as it moved, dragging rather than standing. Its face refused to settle, eyes sliding slightly out of place before drifting back, while a soft mouth opened and closed unevenly, stretching wrong every time it moved.
It leaned closer.
"Look, darling," it said in a high, oddly cheerful voice. "Our first egg hatched."
It was looking directly at me.
My thoughts screamed.
WHAT IS THAT?!
Another voice answered—deeper. Slower.
"This one's… off."
The first creature tilted its head, warping in a way that made my stomach twist. "Off?" it echoed brightly. "It opened."
The deeper voice didn't respond right away. It glanced past me toward the other eggs, where the other larvae had wriggled free and collapsed into the dirt in twitching heaps. Their eyes slid constantly, never landing on anything for more than a heartbeat, bodies rolling and limbs shifting without purpose.
Then its gaze returned to me.
I wasn't rolling. I wasn't twitching. I was sitting perfectly still in the broken shell, staring—unblinking.
After a pause, the deeper voice said, "…It's doing that."
The first creature leaned closer, cheerful as ever. "Doing what?"
The deeper voice hesitated. "…Staying."
The other creature blinked, its eyes briefly misaligned. "Oh," it said, satisfied. "Good."
The deeper one paused, then nodded slowly. "…Good."
My thoughts spiraled.
What are these things—and why can I understand them?
Panic surged—and a sharp, invasive pain split through my mind like a switch being forced into place. I clenched as something tore through my thoughts.
A chime rang out.
My eyes snapped open.
[System Initialized]
Species: Mimic Larva
Level: 1
Status: Stable
Gender: Unknown
The text hovered, then steadied—like it had to hold itself in place.
I stared at it.
…What?
A system?
My eyes—whatever passed for them—flicked back and forth, trying to process the information. Mimic Larva?
The moment the thought formed, another window slid into view.
[Species Information]
A Mimic Larva is a low-tier monster born without innate abilities.
Commonly used as experience fodder.
Often killed for training or sport.
…Well that fills me with confidence.
My breathing hitched. This wasn't a dream.
Why am I here?
A distant boom rolled through the forest—not thunder. Footsteps. Voices.
Human voices.
Relief surged so violently it almost hurt.
Humans.
If anyone could make sense of this—if anyone could undo it—it would be them.
The two hideous creatures—my… parents, I assumed—didn't react at all. They just stood there smiling vacantly as the sound drew closer.
Figures emerged between the trees, armored and relaxed… or pretending to be. One of them laughed.
"Oh, perfect," the man said, forcing a grin like this was routine. "This is the right nest."
He flicked his eyes up through the trees—quick and automatic—checking the sky. "Don't waste any time," he added. "We've got two more nests to hit before nightfall."
Another voice chimed in eagerly. "Yeah. Quick and easy."
The first man lifted his hand like he'd done this a hundred times. "Alright," he said smoothly. "Easy levels."
Confusion twisted through me.
What does he mean?
None of them even looked at me.
His fingers curled. Light condensed into a tight, glowing sphere—then burst. Light flared outward, and a small fire dragon unfolded from it, scales glowing faintly red as it hissed and flexed its wings.
The man smiled at it like it was a trusted tool.
"Kill them fast," he murmured. "Don't waste my time."
The other two moved immediately. Mana flared again, and a thick-bodied lizard with plated skin slammed into existence beside them. Then a massive dog-like beast appeared, jaws parting to reveal far too many teeth.
Every instinct I had screamed.
The fire dragon stepped forward, and my… parents moved too.
Not to fight. Not to flee.
They waddled toward the dragon without fear.
"Well isn't this lovely," the higher voice said pleasantly. "We've never had visitors before."
The dragon inhaled.
Fire roared out, and the deeper-voiced creature was engulfed instantly. No scream. No resistance. Just ash drifting down where it had stood.
I stared, frozen.
The remaining parent tilted its head at the empty space. "…Darling?" it asked. "Where did you go?"
Then it looked back at the dragon. "Oh, sorry about him. He disappears sometimes. A bit foolish, really."
Something inside me shifted.
Not grief. Not rage.
Just clarity.
I can't rely on these monsters. They don't even understand what's happening.
"Hurry it up," the human snapped.
Fire washed over the second parent.
Ash. Silence.
Around me, the other larvae didn't react. They wriggled, stared into nothing, and existed in tiny, instinct-driven worlds—waiting.
Something cold settled in my core.
These humans aren't here to hunt.
They're here to harvest.
I stepped back, and my body resisted. Every movement dragged—sticky and sluggish—like I was made of half-set glue. Across the nest, another blaze washed through the far side. A wet snap followed as the lizard's tongue shot out—long and fast—wrapping around a larva and yanking it close.
Pop.
Soft flesh burst.
The dog lunged at another, bit down, then recoiled in disgust and switched to raking claws, shredding through twitching bodies with quick, brutal swipes.
I froze—then moved.
My foot came down on a shard of shell.
Crack.
The sound was small, but in the silence it might as well have been a shout.
One of the humans snapped his head toward me.
"Oh?" he said. "Is this one trying to run?"
He laughed. "Look at that. It's got a bit of a spark."
His eyes flicked to the fire dragon. "Kill this one first."
They chuckled.
"You two clear the rest. I'll take this one."
My mind screamed.
This cannot be happening.
Something like adrenaline flooded my system—raw panic overriding thought—and I turned and ran.
Sticky. Slow. Wrong.
My limbs didn't move like they should. Each step peeled me off the ground with wet resistance, and one arm lagged, stretching instead of swinging, dragging my balance sideways. I stumbled, corrected, then stumbled again.
Behind me, footsteps quickened—and the crackle of gathering flame.
A roar of heat.
I didn't look back.
The first fireball screamed overhead and detonated in the branches above me, showering embers through the leaves. I ducked beneath the canopy as another tore past close enough to sting. The trees took the worst of it—leaves igniting, bark splitting—while flames spread through the undergrowth instead of swallowing me whole.
For a few seconds, the forest itself shielded me.
Then my footing failed. One step clung too long, then released all at once, and the ground vanished beneath me. I slipped, fell, and the world flipped as I tumbled head over—if I even had a head—rolling faster and faster. My form warped with every impact: eyes sliding, mouth shifting, limbs stretching and snapping back.
Trees blurred into green streaks. Dirt and leaves slammed into me from every direction.
I braced for nausea.
It never came.
That realization hit mid-roll. I should be terrified by that.
The fact that I'm not scares me more.
I slammed into something hard at the bottom and skidded to a stop, dizzy and disoriented. When I pushed myself upright and looked up, the fire dragon descended from above, wings beating slowly as it hovered just off the ground. Its eyes locked onto me immediately.
Of course.
I bolted, my feet tearing free of the dirt with wet, peeling sounds as I sprinted through the forest. Behind me, the dragon swooped lower, fire building in its throat.
It fired.
Flames streaked past—and missed.
Too wide. Sloppy.
Fireballs tore into trees instead, bark exploding as trunks ignited. I zigzagged through burning roots and falling branches as more shots followed—each one late, tearing the forest apart instead of me.
Then the dragon changed tactics. Its jaws opened, and it exhaled a continuous stream of flame—weaker, but tracking. The fire chased my path instead of guessing it, scraping across trunks and undergrowth and sweeping closer with every adjustment. Heat built at my back.
It was following me now.
I ducked, vaulted a fallen log, and cut sharply left—and the stream carved through the space I'd been aiming for, missing by a heartbeat. When I risked a glance back, the dragon adjusted again, and the flame swept too close, heat washing over my side as leaves ignited in a snap of sparks.
I turned forward—and slammed into something solid.
Immovable.
The ground rumbled beneath my feet as loose dirt slid and the massive body shifted.
Slow.
Too slow.
Something opened.
An eye—huge, heavy, unblinking.
Pressure crashed into me the moment it locked on, so dense it felt like the air itself was crushing my chest. I froze.
…Are you kidding me?
Just my luck.
The ground shuddered again as the massive body shifted, and its breath rolled out in a low, bone-deep rumble that made my legs tremble.
If I go forward, it kills me.
If I go back, the humans do.
I swallowed.
There was no safe direction.
And I had to choose.
Now.