The shedding was trying to figure out what exactly it was.

It had legs, but what were they for? It could walk around, and it could kind of shamble at a good speed, but was that all? Were its legs doomed to be purposed only for the floor, for the cold stone beneath its feet?

...Was that even a bad thing?

The shedding looked ahead at the monster it’d been commanded to watch, a small black thing that didn’t look very interesting. Certainly less impressive than the glory of that which had spawned it, the inimitable magnificence of… whatever he was.

It felt as though the grandeur of the great centipede should have had something to attach to it. A title to signify its personification, the ultimate peak of the… food chain, that was the word. It was a fun word, food. It made the shedding feel hungry.

Some distance ahead, the creature tripped on his own legs and fell over. The tunnel sloped upwards slightly, which meant that he didn’t have far to fall, but he still rammed his face into the ground with a crunch.

Squealing in stunned pain, he curled into a fetal position and started whimpering. The shedding dutifully stared at him, wondering if ‘you only have to watch him’ had other, subtler connotations it should’ve been aware of. What if ‘you only have to watch him’ meant that the shedding was supposed to… assist the creature?

Walking forward, the shedding bent down and tried to help him to his feet. The monster promptly screeched in a panic and scrambled away, raising his arms with a noisy hiss. The shedding simply stared at him, wondering why he didn’t want any help.

A presence crashed into the shedding, flooding every corner of its body with shadow and damp breezes and things it was startled to find it liked. It didn’t remember having preferences.

Its eyes looked around and scanned the tunnel, and its neck turned to see everything better. Its mouth opened, and a different voice came out of it. “Found you.”

The voice sounded satisfied, and the shedding realized who it was a moment later. Its own creator had seen fit to speak through its throat! But for what purpose? Surely a being of such power was omniscient?

“I will arrive soon,” Its creator stated. “Stay here.” With that, the presence departed, and the shedding felt a brief moment of… longing. It had been full of so much power for those brief seconds!

The monster had turned to it while its creator spoke, but now that the entity was finished speaking through it, he turned and promptly continued off through the tunnels.

The shedding panicked. Scrambling forward, it screeched, “Wait!”

The monster noticed it and gave his own screech, dropping to his arms and legs and sprinting away at an increased pace.

Frozen with indecision, the shedding hopped from foot to foot, trying to figure out what it was supposed to do. Its creator had given it one job. Only one! Watch the monster. That was all it had to do, and the monster was escaping - but now it had to ‘stay here’ as well!

Which command was more important?!

Gnashing its teeth in worry, the shedding finally accelerated after the monster. “Stop running!” It bellowed at the top of brand-new lungs, skittering across the stone floor as fast as it could. Dropping lower, it made sure every leg was close to the ground and gained even more speed.

The tunnel dipped and rose, taking sharp turns. The surface of the ceiling, walls and floor slowly changed from the massive space it’d been used to, morphing to a rougher texture. The size of the tunnel changed as well, shrinking from the required height to permit the shedding’s creator movement. The monolithic entity would be unable to follow them in here without breaking a lot of rock, the shedding fretted.

Still, it kept following the monster, uneasily looking from side to side to make sure it wasn’t getting too far away. At this point, every step it took was most likely too far away, but the shedding continued to obediently follow the order it’d been given at the moment of its first memory.

Climbing over a rough crag of rock, the monster grabbed a small stone and hurled it at the shedding. The projectile bounced off its head with a clack, and he hissed in triumph.

The shedding started following him, and he scrambled away with a startled shriek, sprinting away as fast as he could.

The shedding really hoped its whole life wouldn’t consist of this.

Awkwardly climbing up the rough rocks, the shedding set its jaw on the top of the cliff and pulled itself up, legs scrabbling on the slate as it failed to find grip. Constricting its spine, it yanked the rest of its body over the top and lay there panting. Turning its head, it watched Bain speed around a corner.

With an groan, the shedding picked itself up and started off after its young charge. Couldn’t its creator have given it a less frustrating job? Perhaps giving its creator endless compliments. That was neither difficult nor irritating.

As it headed around the corner, it heard something. It wasn’t the monster and it definitely wasn’t its creator… which meant it was a threat.

All complaints regarding the duty it had been given vanished from the shedding’s mind as it accelerated, hurtling across the stone. Coming to the corner, it slammed into the opposite wall. Instead of stopping to assess the damage, it immediately scanned the tunnel, looking for the monster it’d been following. Clawed legs digging into the stone, it launched itself forward and wrapped around the monster, placing its tail end around his mouth and dragging both of them into a dark corner.

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The monster promptly bit the shedding. It ignored the dull feeling, watching the bend of the tunnel as a soft orange glow approached them.

Bain stopped moving as the glow intensified, and the shedding tensed. What did such a glow mean? Who brought it with them?

The source emerged mere moments later, and the shedding’s jaw dropped.

It was a human. The shedding knew them from the memories it’d been given at the moment of knowledge, but…

Why was it so small?!

The human was barefoot, wearing brightly colored clothes that didn’t appear to be armored in the slightest. Her fuzzy red hair was all over the place, but the green eyes set above a veritable landscape of freckles were filled with pure determination and sheer will. Most importantly, a tiny blaze of flame hovered a few inches above her open palm, held out in front of her.

She was a super.

The shedding curled up even tighter and felt Bain release a tiny squeak.

She must have heard it, because she held her hand up higher, squinting into the darkness in the wrong direction. The shedding realized something about the way light worked at that moment, something that would impact the way it saw the tunnels for a long time.

Humans really needed light.

The tunnels were so safe because humanity as a whole needed some source of light in order to even begin functioning. They couldn’t wander around without compunction or worry of light levels, unlike the sheddings. It could see in perfect black, everything outlined in silvery whites and pulsing in grays, but humans had no such abilities.

So… all it needed to do to win… was to extinguish the light.

Having arrived at a satisfactory plan, the shedding carefully set Bain aside, coiling itself up for the perfect jump. Its carapace scraped the stone and the human swiveled back around, lifting her other hand. A similar ball of fire appeared in her palm with a whoof, and her eyes narrowed, still looking the wrong way.

The shedding gathered itself up, readying itself for a launch, and then barreled forward out of the darkness with its teeth bared and its claws outstretched. It saw the girl turn towards it, eyes widening with fear, and felt triumph.

Bain smashed into its side at that exact moment, and the shedding cleanly missed the young human, a claw snagging a strand of her hair as it flew by.

Crashing to the ground, the shedding skidded across the ground and rolled to its feet, hissing and spitting mad. What was he doing?! The shedding was trying to save his life!

Instead of running away or attacking the human, Bain stopped moving entirely, frozen in the light cast by her flames. She stared at him wide-eyed for a long moment, neither of them moving.

The silence was broken as she raised her hand, the small blaze in her palm growing much larger. She shouted something indecipherable about heroism and pitched the fireball straight at the monster in front of her.

For the second time in less than a minute, the shedding launched itself from the ground, taking the blast full on its carapace as it tackled the monster out of the way.

It may have disliked Bain. In fact, it was beginning to believe that it had found its very first hatred, given how rapidly the small monster managed to screw up even the easiest of jobs. But that didn't change the fact that the creator had given it only one command, and the shedding had no intention of ever failing it.

Tightly squeezing Bain with its powerful body, it flipped over and faced the small super, hissing loudly. She took a step back, and then the fire in her hands doubled in size. Shrilly screaming something about bravery and friendship, she charged forward, hands blazing.

Tossing Bain into the air, the shedding rolled out of range, caught Bain by the back of the neck in its mouth, and proceeded to tilt backwards off the cliff edge. It took a moment to appreciate its own dexterity, a moment which barely lasted long enough for gravity to take hold.

They tumbled down the rocks, Bain screeching his head off. The shedding remained quiet, aside from the odd grunt as it crashed into a particularly sharp outcropping. The tiny super walked forward, watching them bounce from rock to rock with… concern?

The shedding really needed to figure out human facial expressions at some point.

They hit the bottom of the short cliff, accompanied by a cloud of dust and the distinct sensation of pain. It'd never felt it before, but the shedding decided right there and then that it didn't like pain at all. It… well, it hurt. It was unpleasant. There wasn't a single thing it could say about pain aside from "ouch".

So it said, in a tone filled with heartfelt irritation (most of it directed towards Bain and the rest towards the super), "Ow."

The word fit quite nicely.

Bain was breathing hard, blankly staring at the cave ceiling. The super looked back, then at them. She hesitantly shouted something, and then turned around and left.

The shedding flopped on the ground, resting its jaw on the cool stone. It couldn't believe how eventful its first day had been. Its first hour, even.

...It'd have to do more of the same tomorrow.

The shedding released a long, drawn-out groan of what could only be described as despair.