Mother's point of view: The acrid stench of xenomorph blood and scorched flesh assaulted my senses as I tore through the hive, my wrist blades slick with viscera. The screams of dying youngbloods echoed through chitinous corridors, a cacophony of failure that threatened to drown out my racing thoughts.

"Fall back!" I roared, my voice carrying over the chaos. "To the extraction point, now!"

I watched as the surviving unblooded warriors scrambled towards safety, their eyes wide with terror behind their masks. My chest tightened with a mixture of pride and anguish. They would live, but at what cost? This Chiva, meant to be a crucible of honor, had become a slaughterhouse.

A piercing shriek cut through the air, and I spun to face a fresh wave of xenomorphs pouring from a nearby tunnel. My mandibles clicked in grim determination as I raised my plasma-caster. There would be no escape for me now.

"C'jit," I snarled, unleashing a barrage of plasma bolts that reduced the first line of drones to smoldering husks. "Come then, you pauk-de hard meat! Let's see how many of you I can take to the Black Hunter with me!"

I fought with the fury of the damned, each movement a dance of death honed by centuries of hunting. But for every xenomorph that fell, two more seemed to take its place. My energy depleted, my armor cracked and smoking, I felt the inexorable tide of the hive closing in.

A lucky swipe from a drone's tail sent me crashing to the ground, my mask torn away. As I struggled to rise, a wave of paralytic venom hit me full in the face. My limbs grew leaden, refusing to obey my commands.

Through blurring vision, I saw them drag me deeper into the hive's bowels. My weapons were stripped away, my proud hunter's body battered and broken. When they finally dumped me before their Queen, I steeled myself for the end.

The massive creature loomed over me, her eyeless face somehow radiating malevolent triumph. As her inner jaw extended, poised to deliver the killing blow, I spat a mouthful of luminous green blood at her feet.

"Do your worst," I growled. "I die with honor."

But death did not come. Instead, I felt a searing pain as the Queen's ovipositor plunged into my abdomen. My scream of agony and rage echoed through the chamber as alien genetic material flooded my system.

And then... something impossible happened.

A surge of energy unlike anything I'd ever experienced coursed through my veins. My paralysis shattered like glass, and I erupted from the ground with a roar that shook the very foundations of the hive. I tore through xenomorphs with my bare hands, their acid blood sizzling harmlessly against my skin.

I don't remember how I made it to the jungle. The next clear memory I have is collapsing in a defensible cave, my body wracked with pain as my abdomen swelled at an unnatural rate. I knew what was coming. I'd seen it happen to countless victims before.

With trembling hands, I unsheathed my wrist blades. Better to die by my own hand than be torn apart from within. But as I poised the blade over my chest, a voice – impossible, ancient, divine – whispered in my mind.

"Wait," it commanded. "This is not the end, but a beginning."

I hesitated, my every instinct screaming at me to end it. But something in that voice compelled obedience. And so I waited, enduring agony beyond description as my body transformed.

When the moment finally came, I braced myself for the violent emergence of a chestburster. Instead, I felt a surge of strength and... pushed. The pain was indescribable, but I refused to succumb. With a final, primal scream, I delivered... her.

She emerged covered in a mixture of my blood and some strange, iridescent fluid. Not serpentine, not Yautja, but something... new. Something that should not exist.

An abomination. My shame.

I reached for my blade, knowing what needed to be done. This creature was an affront to everything I believed in, everything I had fought for. My hand trembled as I raised the weapon.

But then she opened her eyes – eyes that mirrored my own – and let out a soft, mewling cry. And at that moment, I faltered.

"Pauk," I whispered, lowering the blade. "What have I done?" As I collapsed to a tree behind me.

Aria's point of view:

I awoke with a violent gasp, my lungs burning as they filled with thick, humid air that reeked of rot and decay. Disorientation clouded my mind as I struggled to focus on my alien surroundings. Towering trees with gnarled trunks stretched toward a canopy so dense it choked out most light, leaving me in a crepuscular gloom.

My heart thundered in my chest as I attempted to stand, only to topple backward onto my rear with a startled yelp. Panic gripped me as I realized my body was not my own—I was an infant, small and vulnerable in this hostile jungle.

"What twisted nightmare is this?" I tried to say, but only infantile babbling escaped my lips.

The crash, the ethereal goddess Paya Valkyra—it all came flooding back. This was no dream but a horrifying new reality. Alien fauna screeched and bellowed in the distance, further cementing the truth of my situation.

I forced myself to calm down, taking stock of my new form. Two arms, two legs, a head—mostly humanoid. But as I ran my chubby hands over my body, I felt three distinct lumps—two on my forehead and one just above my backside.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Horns and a tail," I mused silently. "What the hell am I?"

Suddenly, a translucent blue window materialized before my eyes:

[You have unlocked the skill: Infant Genius. You will now be able to absorb and process information at an accelerated rate.]

I blinked in shock. A system interface, like something out of a isekai manga? My mind raced with the implications. If I had a system, perhaps I could gain strength quickly enough to survive this hellscape.

A low, rumbling growl froze me in place. Slowly, I turned to face the source of the sound.

There, barely ten feet away, lay an enormous female Yautja. Her powerful body was covered in intricate markings and battle scars, but fresh wounds oozed fluorescent blood. One amber eye regarded me warily, while the other remained squeezed shut in pain.

Understanding struck me like a thunderbolt—this was my new mother. Instinctively, I tried to approach her, to offer what meagre comfort I could. Her warning growl stopped me in my tracks. With a final, exhausted huff, her eye closed, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

I was alone—a newborn of an unknown species, trapped in a lethal jungle with only my grievously injured Yautja mother for company. Tears of frustration and fear welled in my eyes as the gravity of my situation sank in.

"Adapt and overcome," I whispered, recalling Valkyra's parting words. It was time to see what this system could do.

Mother's POV:

Pain. Searing, all-consuming pain wracked my body as I drifted in and out of consciousness. The birthing process had been excruciating, far worse than any wound I'd received in combat. But the physical torment paled in comparison to the shame and horror that gripped my heart.

I, Dha'je-te, once revered huntress and matriarch of the Shadow Blade clan, had given birth to an abomination.

The creature that had torn its way from my womb was like nothing I'd ever encountered. It bore similarities to the soft meat—the humans—but with nascent horns and a tail. Its skin was a light caramel color, its eyes an unnatural amber.

What unholy union had produced such an offspring? Had I been infected by some parasite during my last hunt? Or was this the curse of the Black Hunter, punishment for my pride and ambition?

Whatever the cause, my life as I knew it was over. I could never return to my clan, never again stand proudly among my sisters. I was unclean, tainted—fit only for exile or death.

Part of me wanted to crush the mewling thing, to end its existence and perhaps salvage some shred of honor. But each time I gathered the strength to move, to raise a clawed hand against it, I found myself paralyzed. Some primal instinct, some remnant of maternal feeling, stayed my hand.

And so I lay here, my life's blood seeping into the jungle floor, watching this unknown creature as it explored its surroundings with unnatural awareness. It—she?—seemed far too cognizant for a newborn. Her movements, though clumsy, held purpose. Her eyes darted about with intelligence that unnerved me.

What manner of being had I brought into this world? And what would become of us both, stranded in this merciless jungle?

Exhaustion pulled at me once more. As my vision dimmed, I saw the creature turn toward me, its amber eyes locking onto mine. At that moment, I saw something that chilled me to my core—recognition, understanding, and an iron will that surpassed even my own.

Whatever this being was, it was no mere infant. And I feared that my fate was now irreversible, bound to its own.

Aria's POV:

I stared at my unconscious Yautja mother, my infant mind reeling as I tried to process the gravity of our situation. The system interface hovered at the edge of my vision, a constant reminder of the bizarre turn my existence had taken.

"Okay, Aria," I muttered to myself, the words coming out as unintelligible babble. "You're a decorated soldier. You've faced worse odds. Think!"

First priority: survival. I needed to assess our immediate threats and resources.

Using my newfound Infant Genius skill, I focused intently on my surroundings. The jungle's cacophony of alien sounds became clearer, more distinct. I began to differentiate between the calls of distant creatures and the rustle of vegetation in the oppressive breeze.

A new window popped up:

[Skill unlocked: Enhanced Hearing]

"Useful," I thought. "But I need more."

I concentrated on my sense of smell, drawing in deep breaths of the fetid air. Gradually, I began to pick out individual scents—the metallic tang of my mother's blood, the musty odor of decaying plant matter, and something else... something acrid and dangerous.

[Skill unlocked: Enhanced Olfaction/sense of smell]

The acidic scent grew stronger, setting my nerves on edge. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. We were in no condition to face a threat.

I crawled to my mother's side, my infant body frustratingly slow and uncoordinated. Up close, the extent of her injuries became clear. Deep gashes marred her hide, still oozing luminescent blood. Her breathing was shallow and labored.

"Wake up," I pleaded, small voice screeching in what i think is crude Yautja babble, my tiny hands pushing ineffectually against her massive arm. "Please, we have to move!"

Her eye cracked open, focusing on me with a mixture of pain and... was that fear? Revulsion? I pushed the thought aside. We didn't have time for an identity crisis.

I pointed urgently in the direction of the acrid scent, hoping she would understand the danger. Her nostrils flared, and a low growl rumbled in her chest. With agonizing slowness, she began to push herself up.

A piercing shriek split the air, followed by the sound of splintering wood. Something was coming, and fast.

My mother's massive hand scooped me up, clutching me to her chest as she lurched to her feet. I caught a glimpse of gleaming black chitin through the undergrowth before she turned and began to run.

The forest blurred around us as she sprinted through the jungle with inhuman speed and agility, despite her injuries. I clung to her, my infant heart racing as I tried to process what I'd seen.

Xenomorphs. We were being hunted by goddamn Xenomorphs.

My mother's ragged breathing and the pounding of her feet were drowned out by the screeching of our pursuers. I risked a glance over her shoulder and immediately wished I hadn't. At least three of the nightmarish creatures were gaining on us, their elongated heads and razor-sharp teeth the stuff of nightmares.

"Faster," I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a high-pitched wail.

My mother vaulted over a fallen tree, the impact of her landing sending a jolt of pain through her body. She stumbled, nearly falling, but recovered at the last moment. The Xenomorphs were almost upon us.

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath us. We plummeted into darkness, my mother's arms tightening protectively around me as we fell. We hit water with a tremendous splash, the impact driving the air from my lungs.

For a terrifying moment, I thought we would drown. Then my mother's powerful legs propelled us to the surface. We emerged in an underground cavern, dimly lit by bioluminescent fungi. The sound of rushing water echoed off the stone walls.

My mother dragged us onto a rocky shore, collapsing in exhaustion. I squirmed free of her grasp, scanning the cavern for signs of pursuit. The hole we'd fallen through was at least thirty feet above us, and I could hear the frustrated shrieks of the Xenomorphs as they paced at the edge.

For the moment, we were safe. But for how long?

I turned back to my mother, who lay gasping on the cavern floor. Her wounds had reopened during our flight, leaving a trail of glowing blood. Her eyes were glazed with pain and fatigue as she regarded me.

In that moment, I realized the precariousness of our bond. She saw me as an abomination, a curse upon her honor. Yet she had risked her life to save me. I had to find a way to communicate better, to make her understand that I was more than just some monstrous infant.