The remnants of Jannet’s sibling lay below the tree, out of sight but not out of mind. Despite himself, Jannet felt no horror, no remorse. His reptilian instincts had taken over so completely during the fight and the subsequent meal that he hadn’t even considered the gruesome reality of eating what had once been his brother or sister.
The old me would be disgusted. Human Jannet would be sobbing right now, he thought, his claws gripping the rough bark of the tree branch. The sun had begun to rise, casting a pale glow across the jungle-like expanse around him.
He shifted his position, his scaled body adjusting to balance better on the branch. The warmth of the sun seeped into his skin, spreading a pleasant, almost euphoric sensation through his body. It was unlike anything he’d experienced before. He knew, instinctively, that this was part of being cold-blooded: the sun wasn’t just a source of light—it was life, energy, and comfort.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the heat settle into his muscles, easing the aches from his battle. The meal in his belly sat heavy, but not unpleasantly so. It was strange to feel so… fine.
Am I upset that I’m not upset? he mused. The thought lingered as the sunlight grew brighter, illuminating his surroundings. It wasn’t just the act of eating his sibling that bothered him—it was his own lack of horror. The part of him that had once been a housewife, horrified by even a speck of blood, seemed so distant now.
And yet, that meal had kept him alive. It had given him strength. Maybe this is just how things are now, he thought. Maybe survival means letting go of what I used to be.
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As the sun rose higher, the world below came alive. Jannet’s perch gave him a clear view of the terrain around the tree, and the sight was nothing short of breathtaking.
The ground, covered in dense undergrowth and patches of sunlit grass, seemed to ripple with activity. Creatures began to emerge from burrows, nests, and hidden dens, shaking off the quiet of night. At first, they seemed familiar—echoes of Earth’s fauna—but the longer Jannet watched, the more he realized just how strange and alien this world truly was.
Near the base of a tree not far from his own, a group of small, horned rabbits darted out from beneath the roots. Their sleek black fur shimmered faintly in the sunlight, and their curved, glinting horns seemed entirely out of place on their otherwise adorable forms.
Further away, a strange, gelatinous creature slithered out of a shaded hollow. Its translucent, slime-like body shimmered with an iridescent sheen, and Jannet swore he could see small bones and half-digested plant matter suspended inside it. The creature oozed forward lazily, leaving a faint, wet trail behind.
In a nearby clearing, a wild boar stomped into view. Its massive tusks jutted out in jagged, uneven arcs, and its bristling fur gave it a menacing, prehistoric appearance. A pair of smaller boars followed close behind, their sharp little hooves kicking up dirt as they snorted and searched for food.
Higher up in the distance, a herd of deer wandered into view, their long legs moving gracefully through the underbrush. But even they weren’t quite right—each deer’s nose was elongated and segmented, almost insect-like, twitching as they sniffed the air for danger.
And then there were the chickens. Jannet almost laughed when he saw them—at least, until he realized they weren’t ordinary chickens. Their feathers gleamed like polished blades, the edges sharp enough to reflect the sunlight. One flapped its wings, and the blades clanged together with a sound like metal striking metal.
The scene wasn’t just fantastical—it was violent. A shadow darted past the chickens, and Jannet spotted a pack of wolves moving through the underbrush. Their fur shifted with the light, blending seamlessly into the shadows as they moved, almost as if they were part of the forest itself. The lead wolf paused, its glowing yellow eyes locking onto a horned rabbit.
The rabbit had no chance. The wolf lunged, and a blur of movement ended in silence. Jannet watched as the pack descended on the kill, tearing it apart with ruthless efficiency.
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It was beautiful and terrifying, this violent dance of life and death. Every creature below was either hunting or being hunted, each one struggling to carve out its existence in a world that seemed designed to challenge them at every turn.
This definitely isn’t Earth, Jannet realized, the thought hitting him with surprising clarity. For months, he’d assumed he might still be somewhere on his home planet, perhaps in some isolated jungle. But nothing about this place fit with what he remembered.
Where am I? he wondered. The question hung in his mind, unanswered.
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Despite the chaos below, Jannet found himself relaxing. The tree felt safe—high above the ground, removed from the violence of the forest floor. The sun’s warmth continued to flood his body, aiding in digestion and filling him with a sense of calm he hadn’t expected.
He stretched lazily on the branch, his claws digging into the bark for stability. His body felt stronger, more alive, and the sunlight seemed to amplify that vitality. For the first time since his transformation, he allowed himself to simply be.
The creatures below could fight their battles, hunt their prey, and run their endless races. Jannet had already eaten his fill, and for now, he had no need to join them.
This is better, he thought, leaning back against the tree’s trunk. Let them tear each other apart. I’ll stay up here where it’s safe.
The nest had been a battlefield, a place of carnage and betrayal not too different from his home on earth ironically he thought. But here, in the tree, with the sun warming his scales and the world laid out before him, Jannet felt a small measure of peace.
For the morning, at least, he was content to simply exist. The warmth of the sun and the stillness of the tree worked their magic. Jannet felt his eyelids grow heavy, the rhythmic sounds of the forest below blending into a soothing lullaby. For the first time in this strange, violent world, he allowed himself to relax. His claws gripped the branch firmly, anchoring him in place as his breathing slowed.
Just a little nap, he thought, his mind drifting.
The rustling came softly at first, a faint disturbance that blended with the swaying leaves. But the subtle vibrations on the branch beneath him snapped Jannet out of his doze. His eyes fluttered open, and his body tensed, instinctively clinging tighter to the bark.
Something had joined him.
The creature stood just a few feet away, its sleek, segmented body gleaming faintly in the sunlight. It was about the same size as Jannet and its presence was anything but small. Two long, scythe-like forelegs curved menacingly in front of it, their razor-sharp edges glinting with a predatory sheen. Its triangular head tilted slightly, compound eyes fixing on Jannet with an intensity that sent alarms blaring through his mind.
It looked like a nightmare version of a praying mantis, but larger and more menacing. The predatory insect swayed slightly, its sleek body blending almost seamlessly with the surrounding leaves. It radiated danger, its every movement precise and deliberate. He glanced down at his own claws, their dark tips gripping the bark tightly. The branch beneath him, thick and gnarled, could easily have supported an animal ten times his size. Even the leaves above and around them dwarfed the Razor Mantis’s sleek form.
We’re tiny, Jannet realized with a strange mix of clarity and unease. Small enough to be prey for something bigger, something much worse.
The thought was unsettling. His human memories clashed with the reality of his new body, reminding him of just how fragile and insignificant he was in this world. The Mantis, for all its predatory menace, wasn’t much bigger than a large kitchen knife. And yet, the way it moved, the way its forelegs flexed with predatory intent, sent a clear message: size didn’t matter. Skill and speed would decide who survived. Jannet’s heart—or whatever passed for one in his new form—raced. The sight of the creature put into stark perspective just how small he truly was in this world. This wasn’t Earth, where a praying mantis might have been a harmless oddity. Here, it was a hunter, and Jannet was the prey.
The Razor Mantis took a cautious step forward, its forelegs flexing as if testing the air. Its head tilted again, the motion almost curious. For a moment, Jannet hoped it might lose interest.
Then it lunged.
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The mantis struck with blinding speed, one of its scythe-like limbs slicing through the air. Jannet twisted instinctively, but the sharp edge grazed his side, sending a searing pain across his scales.
HP: 132/140
The status update flashed in his mind, but there was no time to process it. His claws dug into the bark as he scrambled backward, narrowly avoiding another strike. The Razor Mantis pressed its advantage, its attacks relentless and precise.
Jannet growled low in his throat, a primal sound that surprised even him. His wounded side burned, and he realized with growing alarm that he hadn’t fully recovered from last night’s battle.
I can’t keep dodging forever, he thought, his reptilian instincts urging him to fight back.
He struck out with his claws, aiming for the mantis’s sleek body. The blow connected, sending the insect skittering back a few inches, but its exoskeleton absorbed most of the impact. It hissed—a high, chittering sound—and lunged again.
Jannet’s jaws snapped open, and he lunged forward to meet the attack. His teeth clamped onto one of the mantis’s scythes, the force of the bite cracking the limb slightly. The mantis screeched, pulling back and striking wildly with its remaining foreleg. Another sharp edge raked across Jannet’s flank.
HP: 118/140
Pain flared again, but Jannet forced himself to hold his ground. The mantis was fast, its strikes deadly, but its movements were becoming slower, less precise. It was expending its energy with each attack, while Jannet’s reptilian instincts pushed him to conserve his strength.
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The opening came suddenly.
The Razor Mantis hesitated for a fraction of a second, its segmented body coiling for another strike. Jannet didn’t wait. He lunged forward with all his strength, his claws raking across the mantis’s abdomen as his jaws clamped down on its spine.
Skill Activated: Maiming Bite.
The crack of the mantis’s exoskeleton echoed through the tree, its body jerking violently before going limp. Jannet growled, his jaws tightening as instinct took over. He felt his muscles shift, his expandable jaws opening wider to accommodate his prey.
Jannet’s body sagged against the branch, his claws trembling as the Mantis fell still in his jaws. The tension of the fight ebbed away, replaced by exhaustion and a dull ache from his wounds. As he struggled to catch his breath, the familiar glow of the status screen flared to life in his mind, delivering its now-familiar cascade of updates.
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Congratulations!
You have slain Razor Mantis, Level 2.
Experience gained: 80 XP.
Congratulations!
You are now Level 3.
Status Update:
Varanus komodoensis
Level: 3
Stage: Hatchling
Age: 2 days
Stats:
* Health (HP): 140 → 160
* Stamina (SP): 100 → 120
* Mana (MP): 50 → 70
* Strength: 17 → 19
* Agility: 10 → 12
* Venom Effectiveness: 14 → 16
* Armor/Defense: 12 → 14
* Resistance: 7 → 9
* Perception: 12 → 14
* Stealth: 8 → 10
* Climbing Ability: 9 → 11
Note: Stat increases doubled due to Wisdom of the Seeker.
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Jannet blinked as the information settled into his mind. He felt… stronger. His wounds still throbbed, but the fresh level-up seemed to dull the worst of the pain. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him going.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself a flicker of satisfaction. He had fought, survived, and grown.
Skill Activated: Forced Swallow.
Jannet slammed his body against the tree trunk, the impact forcing the limp mantis deeper into his gullet. It wasn’t graceful, but it was efficient. The Razor Mantis disappeared down his throat in a series of rough gulps, its segmented legs folding awkwardly as he swallowed.
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Jannet’s sides heaved as he finished the meal, his body trembling with exhaustion. The pain from his wounds lingered, but the warmth of digestion had already begun to spread through him, dulling the edges of his discomfort.
But he wasn’t safe yet.
He glanced around, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. The fight had been loud, and the smell of blood was thick in the air. Predators could be nearby, drawn by the commotion. Jannet’s instincts screamed at him to hide.
Slowly, carefully, he climbed higher into the tree, his claws finding purchase on the rough bark. His scales, naturally camouflaged to blend with the leaves, provided him with some security as he nestled into a dense cluster of foliage.
The pain from his wounds made every movement ache, but the cover of the leaves brought a measure of relief. He pressed his body flat against the branch, his breath steadying as he tried to blend into his surroundings.
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The jungle around him carried on, oblivious to his struggles. The sounds of creatures moving, hunting, and feeding filled the air, a constant reminder of the brutal cycle of survival.
Jannet closed his eyes briefly, his mind racing despite his fatigue.
This is my life now, he thought, the realization sinking in. Every day is going to be a fight. Every meal, every moment of rest… I’ll have to earn it.
But even as exhaustion pulled him toward sleep, a small, defiant thought lingered: I survived. And I’ll keep surviving.
The canopy swayed gently around him, and Jannet let the rhythm of the jungle lull him into a cautious rest.
The familiar glow of the status screen flared to life in Jannet’s mind as the morning sun warmed his scales. It was his constant companion, a strange tether to this new existence. Today, however, the update was brief, only two small changes catching his attention: The daily age increase and the New eta until the next evolution.
Status Update:
Varanus komodoensis
Level: 3
Stage: Hatchling
Age: 12 days
ETA until next evolution: 7-9 years
Jannet blinked, trying to wrap his head around the numbers. Seven to nine years? The thought was overwhelming. It wasn’t the slow pace of evolution that bothered him, but the sheer scale of time.
I’m going to be stuck like this for years? He flexed his claws, gazing down at his still-tiny form. Despite gaining strength and growing steadily, he was nowhere near ready to face the dangers of the forest floor. His instincts screamed at him to stay high, safe, and hidden. The tree had become his sanctuary, a fortress against the chaos below.
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The days leading up to the two-week mark had fallen into a routine, one that felt surprisingly comfortable despite the alien nature of his existence. The tree was more than just a hiding place—it had become his home.
Its branches provided safety, its leaves ample camouflage, and its abundant insect life a ready source of sustenance. Jannet had even discovered a hollow in the trunk, snug and protective, where he could curl up for the night. It wasn’t much, but it was his.
He’d quickly learned, however, that maintaining this small slice of peace came with challenges. Other lizards, similar to himself, would occasionally wander too close, seeking food or shelter. Jannet braced himself for battle the first time it happened, but his instincts, and the growing familiarity with his skills, provided another option.
Lizard Memetics and Morphic-Field Manipulation had become his go-to tools for avoiding unnecessary combat. With careful focus, he could project a sense of menace, planting the idea in the minds of his would-be rivals that he was much larger and far more dangerous than he actually was. Most of the time, the tactic worked, and the other lizards would retreat without a fight.
Still, his size remained a constant reminder of his vulnerability. Even though he was growing steadily, he was painfully aware that venturing to the forest floor could spell disaster. Every glance down into the jungle reminded him of the wolves, boars, and mantises that could end him in an instant.
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By the time Jannet reached the two-week mark, his tree had become a world unto itself. The occasional territorial squabbles and constant need to hunt insects filled his days. Though insects were plentiful and easy to catch, he couldn’t help but notice that they didn’t invoke the same leveling screen as the Razor Mantis had.
Why doesn’t eating bugs count? he wondered as he chomped down on a particularly crunchy beetle. His jaws worked through the chitin with ease, the taste bland but satisfying. Despite the lack of apparent progress, the meal kept his belly full and his body strong.
As he lounged on one of the higher branches, the warm sun filtering through the leaves, something unusual caught his attention.
At first, he thought it was a trick of the light. A figure moved into the clearing below, emerging from the dense underbrush. Jannet froze, his claws gripping the bark tightly as he watched.
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The figure was humanoid.
Jannet’s mind reeled as he processed the sight. A man—no, not quite—stepped into the clearing, his movements deliberate and fluid. He was dressed simply, his clothing rugged and practical, but his appearance was far from normal.
Catlike ears perched atop his head, flicking slightly as he moved. A tail, sleek and furred, swayed behind him, perfectly balanced with his every step. Despite these distinctly animalistic features, the rest of him was startlingly human.
The hunter—there was no mistaking him for anything else—carried a long, sharp blade at his side. A quiver of arrows was slung across his back, and a bow rested against a nearby tree. Jannet’s gaze followed the hunter’s movements as he knelt beside the body of a boar.
The boar was unlike any Jannet had seen before. Its pelt shimmered faintly, catching the light with a metallic sheen. The hunter worked methodically, skinning the creature with practiced ease.
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Jannet’s instincts screamed at him to retreat, but he couldn’t look away. The sight of a human—or something close to one—brought a flood of emotions. Fear, confusion, and even a strange sort of yearning. He hadn’t seen another human being—or anything close to it—since his rebirth.
But this wasn’t the world he had known. The hunter’s tail and ears were proof enough of that. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t Earth.
As the hunter worked, Jannet felt his scales prickle with unease. The sheer presence of the humanoid figure, so close yet so alien, set him on edge. The man radiated power, confidence, and danger. If Jannet hadn’t been perched high in his tree, hidden among the leaves, he doubted the hunter would have missed him.
Finally, the hunter finished his task, slinging the cleaned hide over his shoulder and gathering his tools. He disappeared back into the jungle as silently as he had come, leaving the clearing empty once more.
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Jannet let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The encounter had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. Slowly, he crept back toward the hollow in the tree trunk, his body low and cautious.
The hollow, which had once felt spacious, now seemed a little too snug. Jannet shifted uncomfortably as he wedged himself inside, curling up tightly.
I’m getting bigger, he thought, the realization bittersweet. Growth meant strength, but it also meant that his sanctuary would soon be too small to hold him.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the jungle came alive with its usual chorus of night sounds. Jannet pressed himself deeper into the hollow, his scales blending with the bark as he tried to calm his racing thoughts.
The image of the hunter lingered in his mind, a reminder of just how dangerous this world could be. For now, he was safe in his tree. But for how much longer?
The question lingered as the days passed, each one bringing subtle changes to Jannet’s life in the tree. The hollow that had once been his refuge was rapidly becoming too small, his growing body forcing him to stretch out along the branches instead. The snug security of the trunk was gone, replaced by a quiet tension as he became increasingly aware of his vulnerabilities.
Still, the tree remained his sanctuary, offering safety and sustenance. Jannet’s days were a careful rhythm of hunting, hiding, and avoiding unnecessary conflicts. The skills he’d developed—Ambush Predator, Lizard Memetics, and Morphic-Field Manipulation—proved invaluable. With each passing day, his instincts sharpened, and his ability to survive in this brutal world became more refined.
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Status Update:
Varanus komodoensis
Level: 3
Stage: Hatchling
Age: 30 days (1 month)
ETA until next evolution: 7-9 years
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By the time he reached his one-month mark, Jannet had grown significantly, both in size and confidence. His body, now stronger and more agile, had adapted fully to the tree’s environment. He had also learned to be patient—a skill that proved vital for his survival.
It was during one of these patient moments that he spotted the bird.
The creature flitted into the tree in the early morning, its metallic feathers shimmering faintly in the dappled sunlight. It was pigeon-sized, sleek, and impossibly fast, darting between the branches with practiced ease.
Jannet froze, his body flattening against the bark as his instincts took over. The bird hadn’t noticed him yet, its sharp beak busy pecking at a cluster of insects clinging to the tree.
It’s fast, Jannet thought, his eyes narrowing. But it’s not paying attention.
The bird hopped closer, its sleek head turning occasionally to scan its surroundings. Jannet remained perfectly still, his breath slow and shallow. His status screen didn’t identify the creature—it didn’t have to. His instincts labeled it as prey.
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Skill Activated: Ambush Predator
The moment came when the bird flitted down to a branch just below Jannet’s perch, still unaware of the predator lurking above. Without hesitation, Jannet struck.
He launched himself from the branch, his claws extended and jaws wide. The bird squawked in alarm, its metallic wings flapping frantically, but it was too late. Jannet’s claws dug into its body, pinning it against the bark. His teeth found purchase on its neck, and he bit down with all his strength.
The struggle was brief but intense, the bird’s sharp talons scratching at his scales as it thrashed in vain. Finally, the fight ended, the creature going limp in his grasp.
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Congratulations!
You have slain Skyrazor Sparrow, Level 2.
Experience gained: 50 XP (doubled by Wisdom of the Seeker).
Jannet blinked as the notification faded from his mind. The amount of experience surprised him—it was enough to push him halfway to the next level.
So, only things that have an adaptation to fight back give experience, he mused, the thought settling uncomfortably in his mind. Insects, for all their convenience, didn’t count. Only creatures capable of defending themselves—or, in the case of the mantis and this bird, attacking—seemed to matter.
Jannet shifted his grip on the bird’s limp body, his claws scraping against its metallic feathers. It was lighter than it looked, its hollow bones making it easy to carry back to his branch. As he began to eat, the sun rising steadily above the horizon, his thoughts drifted.
This wasn’t the first time he’d taken a life, nor the second. The act had become easier, the shock of killing replaced by a cold pragmatism. Each fight, each kill, was a step forward—a way to grow stronger and secure his place in this unforgiving world.
The Skyrazor Sparrow’s meat was lean and flavorful, its metallic feathers leaving a faint tang on his tongue. Jannet ate quickly, his eyes scanning the forest for any signs of movement. The bird’s flock, if it had one, hadn’t come searching yet, but he knew better than to linger.
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As he finished his meal and settled back into the leaves, a sense of accomplishment washed over him. He had survived another challenge, grown stronger, and proven himself once more. The tree was still his sanctuary, and for now, he was content to stay.
But the question returned, gnawing at the edges of his mind as he curled into the branches for rest: How much longer can I stay here?