As he devoured more dirt, he felt a strange energy flowing through him, like a warm current igniting his very essence. With each bite, a sense of accomplishment washed over him, as if he were a food critic grading this earthy delicacy.

Honestly? I'd give it a solid three out of five. Not quite Michelin star material, but hey, it's got a certain... rustic charm.

Experience: 2/10

"Alright, progress!" Alex cheered internally. "At this rate, I'll be a level 2 worm in no time. I can practically taste the glory... or maybe that's just the dirt."

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As he continued munching, a rustling sound echoed above him. His worm senses tingled—something was moving closer. He paused, trying to remain as still as a worm could. Just blend in, Alex. You're basically a squishy log right now.

The rustling grew louder, and suddenly, a pair of sharp beaks pierced the earth above him. OH, NO! Not like this! Alex's instincts screamed at him to move. He wriggled furiously, panic fueling his desperate escape from the deadly beaks, his only thought: I refuse to be bird food! Not after I just got here!

With the bird's beaks dangerously close, Alex's survival instincts kicked in. He didn't know how, but an overwhelming urge to jump surged through him. Yes, jump. As ridiculous as it sounded for a worm, he coiled his tiny body and sprang forward—more of a wiggly leap than a jump, really—straight into a conveniently worm-sized hole.