Submerged Abyss

"talking"

'thinking'

[System]

{ Author Note }

And so, I keep eating, tearing through the flesh without a second thought. I push aside any lingering emotions, any fleeting thoughts. The hunger doesn't care about what's left after the slaughter. It just wants to be filled. And I'll keep feeding until it is.

My body glides effortlessly through the thick, crimson cloud that engulfs the cave, the water heavy with the scent of iron and death. The remains of the stalkers drift in chaotic swirls, their pieces fragmented and scattered, but I move with purpose, cutting through the carnage like a predator on a mission.

Each motion is precise and deliberate as I hunt down one corpse after another, driven by an insatiable hunger that feels as though it's been gnawing at me for a lifetime. I tear into the first stalker with a ferocity that borders on desperation, my teeth sinking deep into its flesh.

The meat is rich and tender, the warm taste of blood coating my tongue as I devour it with an intensity I can't control. My jaws work tirelessly, shredding through sinew and muscle with ruthless efficiency.

There's no hesitation, no second thought—just the overwhelming need to consume. As I finish with one, I move swiftly to the next, leaving nothing behind. Not a single scrap of flesh or bone is spared as I make sure every part is taken, absorbed into me as fuel for the battles yet to come.

The act of feeding becomes almost rhythmic, a primal cycle of tearing, chewing, and swallowing. Each bite fills me just enough to dull the edge of hunger, but it never entirely fades. It's like trying to quench a fire with a handful of water—the flames always demand more.

The water around me grows darker and thicker with blood and tissue fragments, but I pay it no mind. My focus is absolute, locked on the task at hand. My claws and teeth work in perfect harmony, stripping the bodies of every morsel, ensuring nothing is wasted.

Even the smaller, harder pieces—cartilage and tendons—are consumed with grim determination. The instinct to leave no trace is overwhelming, an ancient drive buried deep within me. By the time I finish, the cave is eerily silent, save for the faint currents stirring the remaining blood.

The only evidence of the massacre is the crimson haze lingering in the water, a ghostly reminder of what once occupied this space. My body feels heavier now, sated but not sluggish, as I hover in the aftermath of my feast.

The hunger that had driven me so relentlessly finally begins to wane, replaced by a quiet satisfaction that settles deep in my core. The stalkers are gone, reduced to nothing more than nourishment. I've left nothing behind—no scraps, no fragments—only the blood that drifts like a fading memory in the currents.

'Well, that was a good meal,' I muse, the words rolling through my thoughts with a sense of finality and satisfaction. My eyes shift to the glowing 8/10 marker that hovers at the edge of my vision, a silent reminder of the hunt's progress. 'Only two more stalkers, and I'll have another trait.'

The realization sends a spark of excitement flickering through me, though it's tempered by the heavy comfort that follows a feast well-earned. I let myself linger in this moment, letting the satisfaction settle deep.

A low rumble vibrates through my stomach—not the sharp pang of hunger but a deep, contented resonance. It feels satisfying, grounding even, like the reassuring hum of a machine running at peak efficiency. Warmth spreads through me, from my core to the tips of my fins, seeping into every fiber of my being.

I drift lazily in the cave, the water around me thick with evidence of my victory. Clouds of blood hang in suspension, twisting and curling in mesmerizing patterns as the faint currents move them about. The deep crimson hues blend with the dim light filtering through the kelp, creating a strange, almost serene atmosphere.

It's odd, but I find it... comforting. This cave, once nothing more than a hollowed-out pocket of stone, now feels like a throne room—a space undeniably mine, marked by the evidence of my dominance.

The blood, far from disturbing, adds to the warmth of the water, wrapping around me like a macabre blanket. It soothes me in a way I don't fully understand, primal and raw but undeniably real.

I hover there, weightless, letting the moment out. The hum of distant currents provides a steady rhythm to the quiet, and for a fleeting second, I feel as if I could stay here forever, suspended in this mixture of peace and power. My heavy and relaxed body agrees, the aftereffects of the hunt leaving a satisfying lethargy in my limbs.

But then my eyes flick back to the marker, and the thought of the two remaining stalkers returns. A half-finished goal, a task that still waits for me to complete. The hunt isn't over—not yet. That familiar drive begins to stir again, faint but growing, a whisper in the back of my mind that refuses to be ignored. For now, though, I let myself revel in the moment. In the strange calm that follows chaos, in the weight of satisfaction that comes from fulfilling my instincts, I find a quiet sort of peace.

'Now, before I get too comfortable,' I think, the haze of satisfaction from my feast dissolving into the sharper edge of determination. The primal joy of survival lingers, but it's no longer enough to simply revel in it.

The hunger that fuels me isn't just for sustenance—it's for growth, power, and evolution. 'I should track down those last two stalkers—or maybe find something new to hunt. Especially since I know that every kill can offer more than one trait.' The thought sparks something electric, reigniting the fire that propels me forward. My focus narrows, and the haze of the blood-filled cave feels like it's closing in.

I move, slow and deliberate, pushing myself through the thick, clotted water that resists every motion. It's heavy with the remnants of my earlier massacre, and I feel the pull of the cave behind me, a strange sense of ownership over the chaos I've left. But I can't linger here.

A faint glint catches my eye as I glide out of the cave's crimson shadows and into more transparent waters. It stops me in my tracks. I look down and take in the sight of myself, my body transformed in surreal ways.

My once-muted gray exoskeleton is now drenched in blood, streaks of deep crimson painting every curve and contour. The thick liquid clings stubbornly, defying the gentle currents as if it's become a part of me, a second skin.

The shimmering red gleams faintly in the dim light filtering through the kelp forest, giving me the appearance of a predator fully cloaked in the evidence of its kills. For a long moment, I watch how the blood moves with me, trailing and swirling in patterns as I shift.

There's something primal about it, something raw and untamed. It's not just a mark of violence—it's a declaration, a reminder of what I've done, of what I'm capable of. It's unsettling in its own way, but it doesn't feel wrong. It feels powerful. Empowering. The blood isn't just evidence; it's armor, a mantle that wraps me in the truth of survival.

'This is what survival looks like,' I think, the realization settling into me with a profound, resonating certainty. It's brutal, unrelenting, and beautiful in its own twisted way. The faint tug of a current brushes against me, and I break from my thoughts.

My eyes narrow as I scan my surroundings, the stillness of the water around me now tinged with a faint sense of unease. The currents carry away the faint remnants of my feast—tiny slivers of blood drifting lazily through the water like crimson threads unraveling into the void. They streak in several directions, dancing in the light filtering through the dense canopy of kelp above.

A flicker of movement catches my attention. Shadows shift in the distance as smaller creatures dart away, their instincts warning them to avoid the predator lurking in their midst. Their departure feels abrupt, almost panicked, as though they're not just running from me but from something far more significant.

I watch the blood trail spread, carried by the currents, an unintentional signal broadcast into the ocean's depths. The realization sends a shiver of unease through me. What else could be out there? The kelp forest, once familiar, now feels claustrophobic, the towering fronds swaying ominously in the gentle flow of the water. Each shifting shadow becomes a potential threat.

What Leviathan might be lurking here? The thought tightens in my chest, a sharp reminder of the precarious balance in these waters. The kelp is vast, its sprawling expanse offering countless places for something massive to hide.

Leviathans don't need invitations—they come when they please, summoned by the slightest sign of vulnerability or prey. I can't shake the image of one emerging from the shadows—a hulking form, its predatory gaze locking onto me. My mind races, calculating the possibilities and dangers. The blood was unavoidable, but now it feels like a mistake, a beacon calling out into the unknown.

I tense instinctively, my fins twitching as my body prepares for anything—a chase, a fight, or the need to flee. The waters remain deceptively calm for now, but I know better than to trust the stillness. Every predator has a moment of patience; if a Leviathan is close, it's probably watching and waiting.

I remain motionless, letting the currents carry the blood away, my senses on high alert. I can't afford to ignore the possibility of something much bigger, much deadlier, drawn by the chaos I've left behind.

'Let's find something new,' I think, the thought sparking an electric anticipation that buzzes me. Without hesitation, I ionize my fins, feeling the familiar hum ripple through the water as they sync seamlessly with the surrounding current.

The charge connects me to the flow, and I surrender to it. The pull is immediate, and I'm launched forward, my body slicing through the water like a spear.

The kelp forest blurs into a dazzling cascade of green and gold, each streak stretching endlessly as the current rockets me ahead. The motion is exhilarating, a rush of speed that feels freeing and predatory.

I barely register the small eddies of displaced water as schools of tiny fish dart away from my path, their silvery scales catching the light like scattered coins. Their movements are instinctive, skittish, and fleeting—too small to be worth my attention but satisfying to watch as they scatter.

Larger shapes loom in the edges of my vision, lingering near the kelp stalks or drifting close to the sandy floor. These creatures move differently—slow, deliberate, and aware of their surroundings.

They keep their distance, some retreating deeper into the forest while others stay still, watching me pass with a wary stillness. Each one feels like a possibility, a puzzle waiting to be solved, or a challenge daring me to act.

I focus on the details, picking out potential targets. One creature crouches near the seabed, its mottled skin blending with the surrounding sand. Its spiny protrusions quiver faintly with each shift of the current, a clear warning that it won't go down without a fight.

Another drifts lazily above, its body marked by soft, glowing patterns that pulse rhythmically like a heartbeat. The glow is almost hypnotic, but something is unsettling about its unhurried movements—it feels like a trap waiting to spring. Toxic? Ambush predator? Either way, it's not an immediate option.

Still, I feel the pull of curiosity. Every creature represents more than just a meal. They're keys—each bite holding the potential to unlock something new within me. The possibilities are endless: sharper senses, hardened defenses, speed, agility.

But not all gains are created equal. Some could come with drawbacks I can't afford to risk—sluggishness, fragility in unexpected places, or worse, vulnerabilities to predators that lurk more deeply in the kelp's shadows.

As the current carries me further, my mind churns through the possibilities. The forest around me teems with life, vibrant and chaotic, every shadow and flash of movement a potential answer to the hunger for more. My body moves fluidly with the water, every sense tuned to the world unfolding before me.

"That might be useful," I think, my focus sharpening as I lock onto the creature ahead. It's like a ghost from another world, a strange hybrid of the familiar and the unknown. Its sleek, mossy green body shimmers faintly in the dim light filtering through the kelp forest, streaked with bold lines of white that seem to emphasize its streamlined design.

It moves with an elegance that feels almost unnatural. Every shift in the water is deliberate and precise, like it's perfectly in tune with its surroundings. I am drawn to its long, muscular, and powerfully built pectoral fins.

The fins have a distinct flexibility in how they ripple through the water, like a second pair of wings. They propel the creature with an effortless speed, making it look like it's gliding rather than swimming.

Each stroke of those fins speaks of raw power and unmatched agility. I can't help but imagine what it would feel like to move with that kind of lethal grace to possess such a trait. Then there are the spines. They jut out from their back and sides in a pattern that almost resembles the serrated edge of a blade, their barbed tips catching the faint light as they sway in rhythm with the current.

They're not just for show—those spines are a warning. They quiver faintly, sharp, jagged, and clearly designed to maim or kill as if anticipating an attack. Combined with the predatory gleam in the creature's unblinking eyes, the message is clear: this thing is not to be trifled with.

Still, I can't ignore the allure. Its movements scream adaptability, speed, and precision—everything about it is designed for survival in unforgiving conditions. If I could take it down, I might gain more than just sustenance; I could inherit a trait that would push me further and make me faster and stronger.

I narrow my eyes, studying its every motion, searching for patterns, weaknesses, anything that might give me an edge. My fins twitch, an almost involuntary response, as the instinct to strike wells up inside me. But I hold back, suppressing the impulse.

Something this perfectly adapted, finely tuned to its environment, likely has defenses beyond the obvious. A creature this confident doesn't survive on strength alone—it has tricks, and I need to be ready for them.

Patience. This isn't about rushing in; it's about precision. One wrong move, and I could be on the losing end of those spines. But if I play this right, those fins—and everything they represent—could be mine.

'Its tail, face, or underbelly—those are my only openings,' I think, my eyes narrowing as I assess the creature. 'One wrong move, and those spines will turn me into a pincushion. Not exactly how I'd like this to go.' The barbed spines ripple faintly in the water, catching the shifting light that filters through the kelp.

Each one looks as sharp as it is deliberate, a defense designed to punish anything reckless enough to challenge it. The creature glides effortlessly, its powerful fins keeping it steady as if it hasn't noticed me yet.

Or perhaps it's just waiting for the right moment. My gaze follows its movements, noting the sleek, lethal precision in its every shift. I start plotting my approach, weighing angles and timing, the rush of strategy overtaking my caution.

But before I can settle on a plan, the creature suddenly stops. It freezes mid-glide, its body going rigid like a taut spring. Then its head snaps toward me instantly, its dark, unblinking eyes locking onto mine. The intensity of its stare sends a chill through me, a sharp reminder that I'm not the only predator here.

A surge of unease ripples through me. 'How long has it known I was here?' But I don't have time to dwell on the thought. The creature twists its body with a startling burst of speed, its fins slicing through the water in a perfect arc, and shoots into the dense kelp like a streak of green and white.

I watch the fronds sway and ripple in their wake—chaotic and mesmerizing. My pulse quickens, the thrill of the chase already rising in my chest. 'So it's not just fast—it's smart, too, ' the realization sharpens my focus.

'This is going to be slightly annoying, I can already tell,' I think, the words laced with frustration as I hover in place. My muscles coil in anticipation, every fiber of my body on high alert. The dense kelp sways around me, obscuring my vision, but I don't let it distract me. My focus sharpens, homing in on the faintest movements ahead.

And then I feel a subtle but distinct ripple brushing against my flank like a ghost in the water. It's almost lost in the natural ebb and flow of the currents, but my instincts pick up on it instantly. The shift is deliberate, too fast, and purposeful to be anything but a threat.

I don't wait for confirmation. My body reacts before my mind fully processes the danger. With a swift flick of my tail, I propel myself sideways, cutting through the water in a motion blur.

The liquid churns around me, resistance building as I push hard to escape. A fraction of a second later, the creature lunges. Its jaws snap shut with a vicious clack, the sound reverberating through the water like a warning bell. It's sharp, final, and bone-crushing.

The space where my tail had been just moments ago now lies in the shadow of its jagged teeth. I twist my body, momentum carrying me into a defensive position as I whirl to face it. My heart pounds in a wild rhythm, adrenaline and irritation coursing through me.

The creature's sleek, mossy-green form ripples with energy, its barbed spines flaring slightly as it readies itself for another move. Its dark, unblinking eyes lock onto mine, filled with predatory focus. 'Oh, so that's how we're playing it?' I think, a sharp edge creeping into my thoughts.

I engage my propulsion with a sharp, explosive burst, my body twisting effortlessly in a smooth, fluid motion to turn around and reposition myself. My fins ionize, a faint crackle of energy rippling through the water as they charge up, and in an instant, I launch forward.

The currents part around me, my streamlined body slicing through them like a razor-edged blade. The speed and precision of my movement should have been enough to disorient any ordinary predator—but not this one. I can feel its gaze, heavy and unyielding, locked onto me. Its unblinking eyes follow my every move with a calculated focus, almost mocking the effort I'm putting into my escape.

It's as if my bursts of speed are meaningless, as though I'm gliding at a leisurely pace in its perception. 'It's watching me too closely,' I think, unease prickling at the edges of my thoughts. This isn't just a predator—it's a tactician, making it all the more dangerous.

Then, an idea sparks in my mind. A sudden shift in tactics. Without giving myself time to second-guess, I veer sharply downward, my body arcing gracefully as I plunge into a steep dive.

The motion is quick and decisive, breaking the predictable pattern of my movement. For the first time, I see hesitation flicker in its posture. It falters, caught off guard by the unexpected maneuver.

The water rushes past me as I dive deeper, the pale light filtering through the kelp above growing fainter with each passing moment. My eyes lock onto a jagged opening nestled among the shadows below—a narrow cave mouth partially obscured by the drifting fronds of kelp. It's tight, almost claustrophobic, but it's exactly what I need.

I slip into the entrance with practiced ease, the shadows closing around me like a protective veil. The light dims almost entirely as I position myself deeper within the cave, the walls pressing close but offering a sense of security. The muffled sound of my movement fades into the stillness, leaving me near silence.

Outside, the predator slows, its movements betraying a flicker of confusion as it searches for me. The water swirls faintly where I had been moments ago, but there's no sign of me now. Its focus wavers for the first time, and I feel a small thrill of satisfaction rise in my chest.

'Let's see how you like losing sight of your prey,' I think, a faint grin tugging at the edges of my mind. Hidden in the cave's shadows, I bide my time, every nerve sharp and ready, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

As I wait deep within the cave's shadows, my body melds into the darkness like a predator born of the abyss. My eyes remain fixed on the creature above, every movement it makes betraying its growing unease.

It swims in sharp, erratic patterns, its barbed spines quivering with tension as though trying to ward off a threat it can no longer see. Its head swivels from side to side, jaws snapping at the empty water as if sheer aggression will compensate for its confusion.

'Perfect,' I think, my body coiling tighter, every muscle primed to spring. The cave's tight embrace hides me completely, masking my intent, but inside, my instincts are roaring, urging me to strike. The moment arrives like a lightning bolt. Without warning, I launch myself upward, an explosion of motion that shatters the stillness.

My fins ionize, crackling with raw energy as I propel myself through the water in a streak of blurred speed. The force of my ascent creates a ripple that rolls outward, faint but undeniable—a whisper in the water that brushes against the creature. It twitches, its spines flaring briefly in alarm, but it's too late.

My jaws close around its neck with a force that vibrates through my skull, the dense muscle and sinew tearing beneath my bite. A primal, almost electric satisfaction surges through me as I feel the rush of life draining from my body.

The creature thrashes violently for a heartbeat, its spines flailing in a desperate, instinctive attempt to defend itself. I twist my head, tearing through its throat with merciless precision, severing the flow of resistance entirely.

The water erupts in a cloud of crimson, the vibrant red swirling like ink through the currents. Its body jerks once or twice, then falls still, a lifeless weight suspended in the water. I hold it for a moment longer, savoring the heat of the fresh kill before releasing it. I watch as it drifts downward, blood trailing like ribbons behind it. I hover there, my pulse thrumming with the intoxicating rush of the hunt. Every fiber of my being hums with energy, the satisfaction of a perfect strike resonating.

Without hesitation, I dive into the kill, my jaws tearing into the soft flesh of its underbelly with ruthless efficiency. I rip through the layers of muscle, pulling away chunks of flesh that dissolve quickly between my teeth. Eating feels instinctive, almost mechanical, and my focus is sharp as I work through the body piece by piece.

But I don't let my hunger cloud my caution. The barbed spines lining its back and sides glisten ominously in the dim light, each one a potential danger. I steer clear of them, carefully tearing around the areas where the spines protrude. There's no telling if they carry venom or some other hidden threat, and I'm not eager to find out the hard way.

My fins twitch with each precise maneuver, my body moving fluidly as I rotate and shift to reach the most accessible parts of the carcass. I carve through it methodically, stripping away the valuable meat while leaving the spined areas untouched.

Blood swirls thickly around me, blending with the water in deep crimson clouds, a visceral reminder of the kill. The creature's powerful fins, sleek and muscular, catch my attention. 'These could hold something useful,' I think, biting into them deliberately.

Their texture is more rigid, but I quickly work on them, determined to extract every possible advantage from the meal. As I consume the last of the safe flesh, I hover momentarily, assessing what remains. The spines and a few jagged bones are all left; the rest of the creature is now a part of me.

I feel the faint hum of anticipation, wondering what traits or enhancements might surface from this feast. 'Let's see what you've given me,' I think, a flicker of satisfaction passing through me as I retreat from the drifting remnants of my kill.

[DNA Absorption]

Larkiera

Choose One Possible Trait:

Vertical Pupils: This trait alters the structure of the pupils, enhancing their functionality for improved vision and hunting efficiency. The pupils now adapt dynamically, sharpening depth perception to provide a clearer understanding of distances and spatial relationships.

The pupils are also optimized for low-light conditions, expanding and contracting with heightened sensitivity to ambient light. This enhancement allows for superior vision in dimly lit environments like the ocean's murky depths or shadowy cave systems.

Barbed Dorsal Spines: This trait prompts the growth of several sharp, barbed spines along the length of the back, extending from the neck down to the lower spine. These strong and jagged spines curve slightly outward and upward, their tips pointing at an angle that maximizes their defensive capability. Their placement is strategically designed to protect the vulnerable back from predators or attackers attempting to approach from above or behind.

The spines are not only a physical deterrent; their sharp barbs are angled to inflict deep wounds on any creature foolish enough to make contact. Their length and thickness vary, with the longest spines at the neck and tapering toward the lower back. The skin around the spines is reinforced, thicker, and more resilient, helping to absorb impacts and prevent injury.

N/A

"Well, these are definitely some good choices," I think, my mind fully absorbed in the decision. My attention flicks between the two traits, weighing the benefits of each. 'The spines... those would offer some serious protection,' I mused, considering the added defense against surprise attacks. The thought of my back being better shielded, of potential predators hesitating to strike from above, is undeniably appealing.

'But those changed pupils—being able to see in low light, better depth perception,' I trail off, considering how useful that could be when hunting or navigating darkened waters. 'It's a tough call,' I think, the pros and cons of each option swirling in my mind.

I pause, allowing the weight of the decision to sink in. The spines are a clear choice for survival, offering an immediate, tangible advantage. The enhanced vision is intriguing, but the spines' sense of security in such a dangerous world tips the scales.

With a mental nod, I make my decision. 'The spines it is.' When I lock in my choice, a familiar, almost intrusive sensation washes over me. A deep, burning heat begins at the base of my spine, spreading rapidly across my back.

There's a strange, almost prickling feeling beneath my skin—something foreign, a presence that pushes outward. I tense momentarily, the discomfort flaring like muscles stretching to their limit, but it doesn't linger.

It's more like my body is being reshaped from within, adjusting to something new. The sensation intensifies for a few moments, like the slow tear of flesh and bone, but it isn't painful; it is more like a slow, steady process of becoming. Then, the spines begin to emerge, tiny pricks of sharpness that slide along the curve of my spine, working their way down my back and across the top of my neck.

At first, it feels odd, the skin tugging as the barbs sprout, but with each passing second, they solidify, becoming firm and smooth to the touch. Their sharp tips glint faintly under the water's dim light.

I flex my back instinctively, and the newly formed spines shift gently with the movement, swaying with the water's current. It's a strange but satisfying feeling. Once sleek and defenseless in specific ways, my body now feels as though it has been forged for something much harsher.

The sensation of the spines moving with me—almost like an extension of my will—feels empowering, as if I've just unlocked an entirely new level of defense, a natural armor built into my body. They're not just part of me; they are me, an integral part of my survival, my new strength.

I turn slowly, testing their range, feeling the sharpness of the spines sway with each movement. The currents pass by them, pulling them gently to and fro, and I can't help but smile inwardly. This was the right choice.

'Now, this was by far the better choice,' a deep sense of satisfaction settling into my bones. My gaze shifts to the screen before me, and I watch as the familiar 1/10 marker settles into place. It's simple—just a number—yet it carries so much meaning—a subtle but undeniable acknowledgment of my progress. It feels like a milestone, even if it's just the first of many.

I linger on the marker for a moment longer, my thoughts drifting as I reflect on how far I've come. The spines on my back, now fully grown, shift gently with the flow of the water around me. They feel strong, solid, and an integral part of me now.

I can sense how they cut through the current with each movement, a new kind of balance and stability that feels foreign and familiar. It's as if my body has adapted to this latest addition almost seamlessly; the spine is now part of my natural defenses, an extension of my own being.

A wave of reassurance rolls through me. The discomfort of the transformation has faded, replaced with a sense of power, a quiet confidence that I made the right call. These sharp, flexible, and deadly spines are tools I can wield, which will protect me from those who would otherwise have the advantage.

'Alright, it's time to keep moving,' I think, my resolve as steady as the rhythmic currents around me. My gaze sweeps over the tangled kelp, the shifting fronds a dance of green and shadow. Then, a flicker—a familiar flash of white and purple slicing through the murky water of a stalker.

Its sleek form weaves effortlessly through the kelp, the pale glow of its markings creating an almost ghostly trail. My muscles coil with anticipation, instinct taking over as I launch forward. The water parts in smooth ripples around me as I surge ahead, my body a blur of motion.

The stalker darts away, clearly sensing the sudden disturbance. Its movements are fluid and practiced, but I've hunted these before. I know their tricks—the sharp turns, the bursts of speed, the attempts to lose predators in the thick of the kelp forest.

None of that will save it. Each flick of my fins sends me closer, the gap between us shrinking with every heartbeat. The thrill of the chase surges through me, a primal rush that drowns out all else. My focus narrows, every ounce of attention locked onto the creature ahead, its pale streaks shimmering like a target painted just for me.

The stalker reacts with sharp instinct, twisting its body in a fluid motion to vanish into the swaying kelp. The dense fronds shift and ripple, masking its form as it uses the natural cover to slip from my immediate sight. For a split second, the forest seems still, and the quiet hum of the water around me is the only sound.

Then, without warning, it lunges forward from the shadows, jaws wide and glinting, aiming directly for me. At the exact moment, another presence makes itself known—a rush of water brushing against my tail. My senses scream in alarm, the unmistakable sign of a second ambush—another stalker.

I twist my body sharply, my fins flaring as I narrowly evade both attacks. The first stalker's teeth snap shut just where my side had been a moment before, the sound a sharp, bone-crunching clack. The second predator darts past my tail, missing by a hair's breadth as I propel myself out of their strike zone.

I steady myself in the water, my eyes darting between them. The two creatures regroup quickly, their sleek bodies circling me like wolves cornering prey. Their movements are deliberate, coordinated, and eerily reminiscent of the ones I faced in the cave earlier.

The kelp forest becomes a stage for their calculated hunt, the fronds swaying gently as if anticipating the unfolding struggle. The tension builds as they close in, their predatory gazes locked onto me. My pulse quickens, a mix of adrenaline and strategy coursing through me. 'So, we're doing this dance again, are we? Fine. Let's see who makes the first mistake.'

My gaze sharpens, flicking between the two stalkers as they circle me, their movements smooth and deliberate. Their sleek bodies glide through the water, each passing moment tightening the noose around me. I track their predatory eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation, any mistake I can exploit.

Then, there it is—a fleeting deviation. One of the stalker's eyes shifts, just for a fraction of a second, breaking its focus. It's almost imperceptible, but it's all the opening I need. Without wasting a heartbeat, I engage my propulsion, my fins crackling with energy as I ionize them for a burst of speed.

The water churns violently around me as I lunge forward, closing the gap instantly. My jaws snap shut around its neck with a decisive crunch, the sharp sensation of muscle and bone giving way beneath my bite. The stalker thrashes wildly in my grip, but its strength quickly fades as the water around us blooms crimson.

The moment of triumph is short-lived. The second stalker, having caught the movement, surges toward me without hesitation. Its eyes burn with unrelenting fury, its sleek body cutting through the water like a spear. It charges, unbothered by its companion's death, jaws wide as it aims for my neck.

But it doesn't anticipate my new defenses. As it lunges, one of my barbed dorsal spines finds its mark. The stalker's momentum works against it, the sharp spike puncturing the inside of its mouth with a sickening force. The creature jerks violently, releasing a pained, guttural screech as it twists to free itself.

The water trembles with the chaotic flurry of its struggle, but I hold my ground, the spines proving their worth as both deterrent and weapon. The sight of its frantic movements fills me with a fierce satisfaction. 'This is what adaptation looks like,' I think, preparing to finish what the stalker so recklessly started.

With a decisive twist, I tear through the stalker's throat, feeling the resistance give way beneath my jaws as a rush of warmth spills into the water. Its body goes limp in my grip, a final shudder marking the end of its struggle. Wasting no time, I release it, letting the lifeless form drift briefly before focusing on the second attacker.

My propulsion tubes on the right side ignite in unison, delivering a sharp, forceful burst that pivots my entire body with precision. The water swirls chaotically around me as I spin, my fins slicing through the currents. Before the second stalker can recover from the agony of the spine embedded in its snout, I surge forward like a torpedo.

It thrashes violently, writhing from the pain radiating through its maw, its movements wild and uncoordinated. But it's too late. My jaws clamp down on its exposed neck with unyielding force. The tough skin and sinew resist momentarily, but my bite is relentless, cutting deep until I feel the crack of bone beneath my teeth.

The stalker jerks, spasms wracking its body as its frantic attempts to free itself grow weaker by the second. Blood clouds the water, a dark crimson bloom spreading around us. My grip tightens, every ounce of instinct driving me to finish the kill. With one last thrash, the stalker's movements falter, then stop altogether, its body slumping lifelessly in my hold.

The adrenaline coursing through me doesn't fade immediately; the echoes of the struggle linger in my mind. I release the stalker, its body drifting alongside its fallen companion in the water.

"These were the last two I needed for the second trait," I think, a sense of accomplishment threading through my thoughts as my gaze flickers between the two lifeless bodies drifting in the water. Their once-agile forms are now motionless, their vibrant colors dulled by the haze of blood swirling around them.

Without wasting a moment, I move in, my instincts taking over as I feast. My teeth tear through flesh and sinew with a practiced ease, each bite deliberate and efficient. The warm tang of blood fills the water around me, mingling with the coppery taste in my mouth.

I don't slow, my hunger driven not just by the need to feed but by the anticipation of what's to come. Every shred of the stalkers must be consumed to unlock their potential, and I'm eager to claim whatever edge they can offer.

[DNA Absorption]

Stalker

Choose One Possible Trait:

Dorsal Ridges: This trait adds to the development of seven dorsal ridges along the spine. Each ridge is designed with a sleek, aerodynamic curve that cuts through the water effortlessly, providing added stability and control during movement.

The ridges aren't rigid; they have a slight flexibility that adapts to the pressures of tight turns. When you twist or bank sharply, you feel them pressing against the water, creating the resistance you need to change direction almost instantly.

Night Vision: This trait introduces a profound change to the genetic structure of the eyes, enhancing their functionality in low-light environments. With this adaptation, the eyes are now equipped to adjust rapidly to shifts in brightness, especially when transitioning from well-lit areas to deep, shadowy regions.

The transformation optimizes vision, allowing you to detect even the faintest movement traces in the dark. As a result, your ability to perceive movement has improved dramatically. Subtle shifts in the water—the flicker of a tail, the ripple of a fin, or the glint of scales—stand out like beacons against the murky backdrop. The adaptation also reduces the reliance on external light sources.

N/A

'Well, so much for that idea,' I mutter, frustration flickering like an unwelcome current. My gaze flickers between the two choices displayed on the screen—the same ones as before. My hope for a third option, something fresh to replace the trait I'd already selected, evaporates instantly. Instead, the faintly flashing 10/50 marker in the corner catches my attention, a not-so-subtle reminder that unlocking the elusive third trait would require far more effort.

'So it does multiply,' I think with a bitter edge, 'just not how I was expecting.' The realization sinks in, dragging with it a small wave of disappointment. I'd expected progress to feel more rewarding, not like hitting a wall with only incremental progress to show for it.

Still, lingering on it won't change anything. My eyes settle on the two options, weighing them briefly even though the decision has already been made. There's no hesitation this time—I know exactly which one I want. Night Vision promises me an advantage that feels too useful to pass up.

With a deep breath, I focus and choose, mentally clicking on the Night Vision trait. The moment I do, the now-familiar sensation washes over me—a slow, searing burn spreading through my eyes. It's not unbearable, but it's sharp, the kind of discomfort that makes my instincts scream to shut my eyes tight.

As I do that, squeezing them shut as the sensation builds, like molten heat coursing beneath the surface. For a moment, everything plunges into darkness—not the natural kind of the deep ocean but an utter, internal blackout, as though my body is rewiring itself. 'This better be worth it,' I think, bracing myself against the intensity of the change. As the ache begins to fade, I slowly blink, cautiously testing my new vision.

The effect is immediate and startling. What had once been shadowed and murky now stands out in perfect clarity. The dim light filtering through the water sharpens into vivid detail, revealing textures and movements I couldn't perceive before. The once-hidden folds of kelp seem to shimmer, their edges defined, while distant shapes that had been invisible now glow faintly in my enhanced sight.

I take a slow, deliberate look around, letting the full range of my vision sink in. 'This is incredible.' Every subtle shift in the water, every faint bioluminescence glint, jumps out with startling precision. 'It's definitely worth it,' satisfaction curls through me like a warm current.

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{A/N Well, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know this one was all over the place, but you know progress has to start somewhere. But after this one, it should start picking up a lot more besides, ohh, new thing eat gain repeat, and he will probably only spend one more chapter in the kelp forest before continuing to the next spot.

But that stuff aside, I will do another update on Friday. Since I'm making about most of these beforehand, I might open a Patreon just for some extra money, but I don't know yet.

I will post the usual below. I will see you all on Friday. I hope you all had a good Thanksgiving, as that is when I made this.

[Status]

Species: Boneshark

Abilities: Prey Detection, Toxin Resistance, Pupolsion, Ionized Fins

Personal Traits: Adaptive Evolutionary Trait Activation and Physiological Augmentations.

Species Traits: Electromagnetic Sensitivity, Pressure Detection, Exoskeletal Integrity, Muscle Density, and Energy Reserves.

Gained Traits: Sensory Fins, Pupolsion Tubes, Charged Fins, Regrowable Teeth, Barbed Dorsal Spines, and Night Vision