Shell 3 had started to regret leaving his herd. After all, there were pleasant, lush pastures of grass back there. No! He was not going back there. His flock most likely was already killed and shelled after all.

Maybe it was just him who thought that; nobody else in his flock cared that the Two Leggers would come and rip their shells off in a couple of sun cycles. They had already seen other communities ripped apart by the Two Leggers, who always returned with the latest flocks shells on their chest and shoulders.

He remembered that Shell 8, now most likely deceased Shell 8, had said, "I like it here," "No need to think about the future," and "Live life and eat grass."

For some reason, just sitting there and waiting for inevitable death was scary. Maybe it was just him; after all, the others in his herd had no problem living their lives, knowing when and how they would end.

Because of that, Shell 3 had wriggled out of a hole in the fence and wandered off into the night, hoping for a new un-shelled life.

Shell 8 had been right in some ways. The world outside was not fun. If he hadn't known that he would be shelled, he would have already returned to his herd and done what Shell 8 had always said, "Live life and eat grass."

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His species were almost at the peak of domestication. They had no features other than their impressively hard shells that could help them survive in the wilderness. A shell did not help a lot if he was extremely slow and could not defend himself from anything.

Survival for him could be broken down into three challenging steps.

1. Never let yourself be seen; if caught, curl up in a ball and hope for the best.

2. Get all available food, but never eat if a predator is around.

3. Never sleep. If you do, most likely you will wake up in the belly of somthing, only take quick naps.

He had composed this short rulebook by observing other prey and their successes and mishaps. Shell 3 had never personally witnessed others curl up into balls to survive, but running away was a losing prospect for him.

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Shell 3 never left the branches of the trees. They were the only place not filled with giant creatures who could gobble him up in a single bite. The cost of this decision meant he hadn't had a mouthful of grass in who knows how long; that sweet grass, oh, how he longed for more precious grass.

On the bright side, There was a little light in this deep dark hole of despair. Shell 3 could now sneak past most things that wanted to gobble him up since he had learned how to walk silently and sneak through the shadows. While his shell did not help him attack giant foes, it did help against other prey trying to take his meager food reserves, and it was devastating.

One time he had hit a putrid four-legged creature (A skunk) who had tried to steal his food with his shelled fist so hard it had been knocked off his branch and landed in the nest of a bunch of beasts that had torn it to shreds in moments.

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Shell 3 had just been scavenging through a hole in a tree, trying to find an acorn to nourish his hunger, when he stumbled onto a glowing blue orb. Every sense in his body told him to eat it right now, but he didn't.

Not long ago, he had added a rule to his survival steps to be wary of any blue, glowing, tasty-looking orbs.

In the recent past, Shell 3 had found the same situation happen to other creatures. In their case, all of them had eaten the blue orb. What happened after that was something he did not want to remember.

They always looked happy, just as if they had eaten a good meal, something that was scarce in the area. Following that, confusion masked their face as they tried to bat at some invisible thing in front of their face.

What happened next always made him cringe in horror. The body of the poor creature who had eaten the orb blew up in a fountain of gore.

The orb would be found again somewhere else in a few sun cycles. What had happened to the last victim would probably happen again.

Shell 3 was now looking at the same orb, and as all those memories crashed through his head, he ran away as fast as his stubby legs could carry him away from the killer orb.

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Life sadly did not become fun or even slightly more manageable. His life was still the same. He scavenged for food, ate the food, hid from predators, defended food from hostile prey, and finally tried to get small naps whenever possible.

Shell 3 suddenly crouched down on a tree branch when he heard snapping branches above him. Looking up, he saw the blue orb cracking through tree branches as it fell directly at his head!

Before he could even scream, the blue orb slipped down his throat and down into his gullet.

The orb tasted great. Nothing could compare to the taste of the blue orb. It was even better than grass!

Shell 3 had seen this happen too many times to other creatures, and he knew what has about to happen, the exploding guts and all, but nothing other than the taste of the orb could get past his thoughts.

Then things started to get weird. Squiggly lines began popping up in front of his face. But the strangest part was that he somehow understood those squiggly lines like they were trying to convey something to him.

Welcome to the System

Suitable for Race change from Sheller to Acupuncture Sheller

Race changed from Sheller to Acupuncture Sheller

Downloading new information from Race to Users brain (WARNING: PROCESS WILL BE PAINFUL, please use painkillers)

The last thing Shell 3 thought was a half-hearted "Wha-" before he fell unconscious as the System carved new neural pathways into his brain.