Delicious. I love it.

The Leafy Bush Cricket tasted like something a little bit between roasted nuts and popcorn. Simultaneously healthy but very satisfying, with a subtle umami flavor.

Five stars, would eat again, thank you. Preferably with a lot less fearing for my life next time. Though Adon had to be honest. Fearing for his life was something he was starting to get weirdly used to. I never thought that could happen. In my old life, it never could have.

He remembered his mantra. Do everything, and you’ll win. Do everything, and you’ll get what you want. Don’t fall back into old habits. Don’t live another shameful sham of a life.

Adon considered. Is this what winning feels like?

He thought it probably was.

And he found that he liked it.

And he wanted more.

How do I win more?

The first thing that occurred to him was very obviously the most insane idea he’d ever thought of in the course of his whole short life. I’d really like to get back at that bird for scaring the crap out of me. But that was clearly never going to happen. Adon was a caterpillar, and his ostensible target was a bird.

Birds, the ultimate predator of all insects and slimy things that crawl.

Am I really going to be like all the other skittering insects in this life? Running away from anything bigger than me, and trembling in relief when I escape?

Perhaps when he was a butterfly, it would be different. But he knew deep down that butterflies were just as vulnerable to animals as large as birds as caterpillars were. The whole idea of being chased around really stuck in his craw.

What had happened to the caterpillar that fought the Ladybug Larva face to face—never mind that it hadn’t been his first choice, he’d done it, hadn’t he?

And if he kept running away from danger, he wasn’t going to earn many Evolution Points. Probably he’d still become a butterfly eventually—most caterpillars, even in this world, probably ate leaves and still managed to evolve—but he’d be a crappy butterfly.

Just like I was a crappy human, he thought. A human who never took any big risks or left his comfort zone, until I was so weak that a fall down the stairs was enough to kill me… What a life.

Suddenly, the bluebird seemed to represent everything that had cowed him in his previous life. Every obstacle evaded, every challenge that he’d failed by failing to try.

He also felt an instinct tugging at his guts. He wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to his memories or his current body’s instinctive knowledge. If you manage to in any way hold your own against something so obviously superior to you on the evolutionary ladder, the instinct seemed to say, you’re going to grow by leaps and bounds. You could change the whole trajectory of your destiny. Yeah. It would literally change your life.

But he shook his head at the idea, trying to keep himself from going down that road. A bird was just too big. Even if he was in his fully grown form, that would be an incredibly risky matchup. There was just no way to fight it directly. No way to make it feel the fear it had caused him.

Then again… His mind lapsed into fruitless speculations.

What if I stabbed her in the eyes with my spines? That would leave Adon stuck to the bird’s face. A suicide run. What if I break some spines off in a bug that the bird’s about to eat? But Adon had no reason to think his venom was deadly enough to even give such a big animal a stomach ache. Sure, my venom killed that Leafy Bush Cricket, albeit very slowly. That was an animal barely bigger than me, though. The bluebird, by contrast, was hundreds of times Adon’s size. Just because it seemed to avoid eating him before didn’t mean it was deathly afraid of the consequences of doing so.

His mind worked its way through a somewhat less insane plan. No… but, well, maybe?

A few more seconds of contemplation ensued.

Seriously, that could work! Right?

There were several critical merits to the plan that made him take it seriously. It would take advantage of the fact that he now knew where the bluebird lived. If his plan succeeded, and he timed his moment properly, he shouldn’t have to confront the bird directly at all. And this was the sort of plan that many small animals tried.

The fact that others had succeeded where he planned to make his attempt was inspiring in its own way. They weren’t usually as small as Adon, but he was pretty sure he remembered that some spiders and praying mantises could actually eat small birds. So he had to have a shot at this, right?

And if he was successful, Adon had no doubt that he’d get all the Evolution Points he could ask for. He found himself getting excited.

Alright, first things first. Let’s see how many Evolution Points I have to spend…

There were 35 Evolution Points available. An unexpected bounty of riches, considering that Adon was pretty certain he was getting fewer points from killing and eating ants every time. But maybe the quantity of the ants, the fact that he had survived the death struggle with the cricket, and then his evasion of the bird and consumption of the cricket all combined to give him a more substantial reward.

Whatever the reason, it was time to give the vision-related Adaptations a second look. All the options he’d thought he couldn’t afford before: Simple Eyes II, Spherical Lens I, Apposition Eyes I, Superposition Eyes I, and Infrared Sensing I.

Adon immediately ruled out Simple Eyes II, since that was just the next stage up from the extremely basic eyes he’d been born with. He wanted a difference in kind of vision, not just one of degree.

Spherical Lens I was about sharpening the quality of the existing eyes. Infrared Sensing I would probably make it much harder for enemies to sneak up on him by allowing him to sense movement. But that wasn’t the same as vision, and Adon wanted to improve his eyes for both survival and aesthetic reasons.

I don’t want to keep seeing the world as this vague mush of light and darkness. He had adapted surprisingly well to being nearly blind—among other things, he still managed to hunt effectively. But he wasn’t fond of his predators and his potential prey both having better eyesight than him. That sounded like something that would inevitably lead to him either being eaten—as when the Leafy Bush Cricket almost ambushed him from camouflage—or starving. If he got large enough, his prey would start to see him coming.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

So it’s Apposition Eyes I or Superposition Eyes I, he thought. Two different versions of compound eyes. I guess human eyes were out of the question. Too far up the evolutionary food chain?

He remembered that girl who he’d heard talking to him and the Ladybug Larva in his sleep—he’d figured out that she was talking to both of them once he had a little time to breathe.

I’ll catch up to you, he thought. Just you wait. He didn’t know how he would do it or even if it was actually possible to do in this world—but he wanted to find ways to make the impossible into the possible in this life. Figuring out how to interact with humans on some kind of an equal level was a good long term goal. He’d been lacking anything specific to strive toward for a while.

And he had loved the golden light the girl emanated. Since he was completely colorblind, that had to be his Spiritual Sight. She must be someone special.

Adon realized he was in danger of getting lost in thought about the girl, and he forced himself to focus back on the Adaptations.

Right. Two different, mutually exclusive options. Two roads diverge in a wood. Apposition Eyes and Superposition Eyes. He studied their descriptions, aware that he would be stuck with whichever option he chose, either a long time or forever. There would be no take-backs. Ironically, both options seemed cheap to him now. Apposition Eyes I cost 5 Evolution Points. Superposition Eyes I cost 7.

Despite the Superposition Eyes being slightly more expensive, Adon gradually came to the conclusion that Apposition Eyes I was better suited to his needs. Nested in the dense descriptions for both eye types, he found that Apposition Eyes were typically suited for diurnal animals, and Superposition Eyes were better adapted for creatures that moved at night and during the twilight.

And Adon didn’t want to become a nocturnal animal. It clearly wasn’t his natural tendency so far. So he would probably need other expensive, brain-modifying adaptations if he wanted to make that switch—and he had no idea why he would want to anyway.

Adon added Apposition Eyes I and II to his cart—they were only a total of 15 Evolution Points, after all. Before he finalized the purchase, he looked through other Adaptations he had turned his nose up at before. It was time to give some of them a second look. Telepathy I was still out of reach, unless he just forgot about Apposition Eyes II. But there were still Venom Fangs I, Hardened Exoskeleton I, Bladed Mandibles I, Piercing Mandibles I, Crushing Mandibles I, Magic Perception I, Venom Spores I, Sleep Spores I, and Camouflage I.

I remember I dismissed the idea of enhancing my mandibles before, because they’d been getting the job done just fine. Then I fought the Ladybug Larva, and it was like I was trying to chew rocks. Live and learn, right?

He studied the mandible option descriptions particularly closely. The spores still felt like something he shouldn’t invest in just yet, as did Magic Perception I. And Venom Fangs would still require him to be able to penetrate the enemy’s armor.

Bladed Mandibles I would make them into blades. Piercing Mandibles I would make the tips of my mandibles a bit like spear tips. And Crushing Mandibles I would add bludgeon damage.

Adon would have loved to have all of these, now that he had seen how ineffective his mandibles could be. But he also wanted to save a little bit of his money and get some defensive Adaptation. Either Hardened Exoskeleton I or Camouflage I. Two completely different strategies that deserved their own examination.

But first, which of the mandible enhancements did he want?

Well, he had always heard that the deadliest sword wounds were typically stab wounds rather than slash wounds. And piercing damage was also better suited to the insane plan he had cooking.

Okay, I’ll add Piercing Mandibles I to my shopping cart. We’ll come back and see if I can afford any of the others after I decide between Hardened Exoskeleton I and Camouflage I.

After due consideration, Adon dismissed Camouflage I as too expensive for what it was. I don’t need an Adaptation just to hide, he thought. If I want to look like leaves, I can—wait. I think I have a really good idea. He smiled in his own mind. That bird would never know what hit her.

Adon ultimately added Piercing Mandibles II and Hardened Exoskeleton I to his purchase. Together with the new eyes, they would use up all the Evolution Points he’d saved up. He was investing heavily in his mandibles now. The best defense was a good offense, after all. Or was it the reverse?

He locked in the purchase before he could change his mind, and immediately, he felt the Adaptations beginning to take effect.

Ahhh! I forgot how much this hurts. If anything, this set of Adaptations was even more painful than the last. Perhaps because he’d ripped the bandaid off on several at once.

For several minutes, Adon writhed on the ground in agony, easy prey to anything that wanted him. He could hardly even think about the danger, though. And nothing came forward to put him out of his misery.

Finally, the pain began to die down enough that he could think a bit.

Oh, if I could cry, I would be crying… why don’t caterpillars have tear ducts? I want to cry… His spiracles opened and closed as he took several deep breaths until he calmed down a little.

Then he did a full systems check of his whole body.

The area that had once been his eyes burned like they were on fire, a part of his brain seemed to have snapped somewhere, causing him a throbbing pain in the head, and his whole body ached dully as if he’d just shed his skin multiple times. His mandibles were the least affected area in terms of pain. He barely had feeling in them in the first place. They were like teeth. The pain there was just a slight soreness, like having braces adjusted.

Adon took a couple of steps forward. He immediately noticed a greater stiffness in his body. With Hardened Exoskeleton I, it seemed he had gained a slightly tougher body in exchange for some of his flexibility.

Okay, I can live with that, he thought. He had never used his flexibility very much in a fight. If anything, when he fought the cricket, he had to hold himself stiffer than he normally was, so the cricket couldn’t get leverage to push itself closer to him and bite at his torso.

This analysis took place in the back of Adon’s mind, though. Even the pain faded from the forefront of his thoughts.

He was obsessed with his new vision. His eyesight was a little blurry, like he needed prescription glasses and didn’t have them. But he could see the world. Not every color, he thought, but all the basic ones. It was enough for now. More than enough. Incredibly satisfying. And so bright.

A beautiful tapestry of life unfolded itself before his eyes. The green leaves had never seemed more alive to him than when he could see them in color. He looked down at his own body and saw for the first time that he himself was green—albeit that the spikes that jutted out of him were more of a pale brown color. The blue sky overhead looked richer and more vibrant than he could ever remember it being. Red orchids bloomed, and Adon saw that they were at the point where that bloom was just about to fade. Trees stood in various spaces like titanic sentinels overlooking the ecosystem, and their leaves were beginning to turn vibrant yellows and oranges.

True, everything he saw was blurry around the edges. And yes, there were some flowers—many flowers—whose colors Adon could not clearly see, but he did not dwell on those.

For today, this is more than enough, he thought. Life is beautiful. Painful, brutal, probably short. But beautiful.

He turned to see the sights nearest to him, and he realized that he was standing right next to a big leaf covered in little green insects smaller than his head. They were very small and barely moving, just standing there sucking liquid from out of the plant’s stem, which probably explained why his previous simple eyes failed to notice them.

Wow. There’s probably been much more nutritious food than plain leaves around me all this time…

It seemed decent vision was already coming in handy. His crazy plan for revenge on the bird could wait a little while. Right?

Adon licked the edges of his mouth. Then he put his new mandibles to work.