The pain that had gathered at the bottom of his tailbone suddenly stopped.

Mir's mind was in a state of chaos. What the hell was that entire hallucination?

Did Transcenders undergo each of their mutations through such mutations? It didn't seem normal, because he had never heard or read about any such experience anywhere. Usually, hallucinations tended to be much more direct and easy to understand. One would be conscious of their own body, own mind, be capable of controlling their thoughts so long as their mental fortitude was refined enough. He had experienced hallucination attacks himself not long ago.

Ordinary hallucinations were like puzzles of temptations, guiding one towards an abyss and deluding them into jumping down the path of uncontrolled mutations. But here, he hadn't even been aware of his consciousness, that he was an individual under a hallucination caused by the pollution of amino acid interacting with his genes, sending sets of audiovisual codes in his data receptors from the archives of the foreign genetic library mixing with his own.

Had the diary not been working on his mind, it was needless to say what the outcome would be. He wouldn't even be aware of his eventual death, lost in that vague, murky world of chained, limited consciousness.

No wonder no one had yet managed to form contracts with the Witchweed plants despite being recorded in the database as a grade- 2 mutant organism! It seemed almost impossible for normal humans to navigate through the mental attack of mutated plants.

The entire chain of thoughts passed through his mind at an incredible speed. He suddenly had the idea to check the Hybrid image inside his Soulslot. Had his success in stopping the mutation changed anything?

But after a brief look, he was disappointed. The snake-like tail was still attached to his Hybrid form. Just like Murray had told him, he couldn't affect his Hybrid form in any way. He could only stop it from manifesting uncontrollably in his real body.

The only encouraging detail he discovered was the surprised look on the face of the Hybrid. It glanced at the tip of the tail and then back at Mir. A gloomy expression began to slowly spread across its semi-inhumane features.

Mir's focus returned back to his real body. He directed his attention towards his skin. The goosebumps that had broken out all over his body weren't receding. Were these about to transform into egg-sized warts he had seen on the parasitized woman?

Several seconds later, he returned to the dark, murky world.

An inexplicable urge.

He was familiar with this, though. This urge came once after many cycles of dark and not dark.

When he gave in to it, a new family would be beside him soon.

He...enjoyed the sensation. He enjoyed having a family to interact with.

This urge was a good thing.

He gave in...almost.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

He remembered writing on the first page of his red diary that his mind was strong enough to not give in to the temptations of mutations!

...How strange! Why would he not give in to an urge that made him happy?

He tried to let his instincts take over again.

But each time, he stopped at the last moment. A sense of great unease and abhorrence enveloped him. He wasn't supposed to give in!

One by one, his current family disappeared.

Soon, there was no one to speak to. Not even food made him happy anymore.

He began to feel weak, small...sad.

These were strange new sensations. He hadn't ever sensed such mixtures of unhappy thoughts haunting his mind. It made him feel in a way he didn't want to feel.

Desperately, he attempted to make another family.

Please...all it would take was one permission. All it would take was one instance of cooperation.

His thoughts began to grow dim.

Why? Why couldn't he do it? He couldn't understand. Soon, there would be no more of him either. No more of him, none of any like him. The absolute end.

It was the most horrifying sensation, the most hurtful thought to have ever occurred in his long existence.

One last time, he tried to do it.

"No," Came the answer from a hidden part of his mind. It was still as powerful, as inflexible.

The darkness that enveloped him upon that attempt was a strange one. It hurt him, it hurt him like nothing else. It gave birth to new feelings in his mind. These feelings were destructive. He wanted to make this horrible part of himself not exist, just like he and his family wouldn't.

What did he need to do for that?

Before he could comprehend the answer, he ceased to exist.

And the chains suppressing Mir's consciousness broke apart.

Taking in large gulps of air, Mir opened his eyes again and found himself back in his own body.

The searing, maddening itch on his skin was receding. He could feel the goosebumps die down.

The second mutation had been neutralized!

This time, he focused on the pain on his head, under his hair.

Growth...was a natural process.

He was a sapling, whose main source of food lay inside his seed.

That food would run out soon. But he instinctively understood what to do to make his own food.

All he needed was to grow.

His leaves would be the greatest source of his food. They were too small now, crooked and shy. He needed to encourage them to open up to the wonderful not-dark.

Grow!

No!

What?! Why?!

No!

Grow! Please! I will starve!

No!

Mir opened his eyes with a jerk. This hallucination in particular seemed to take out a lot from him. He felt lighter, both in body and in mind.

Now, only one other source of pain remained in his body, one last mutation zone to deal with. His mouth, the entirety of it, be it his gums, his jaw, or even his tongue. It felt like each centimeter of these parts was on fire.

Mir hurried to put all of his focus on analyzing this painful sensation around his mouth. Vaguely, he heard the masked fellow observing the entire thing shout in an alarmed tone.

"Curse the sun! It dropped below 1 percent! It actually dropped below ONE PERCENT! HOW?!"

What had dropped below 1 percent? His Extent of Viral Infectio stat? The usage of the diary did have a negative effect on those stats...

Mir didn't have the time to think about the issue. His consciousness sank into the murky world of dim, diluted perception once more.

This time, something felt off.

He could still feel his own thoughts, his separate state of existence. He was no longer being forced to think like a plant.

For the first time inside the hallucination, he heard a sound. Not just any sound, though.

"I...Will...not...I will not...NOT ACCEPT!"

It was a gravelly, stuttering voice, but something about it felt familiar. With a start, Mir realized that it sounded uncannily similar to what his own voice sounded in recordings.

The sensation of being grabbed by the face enveloped his mind. Mir tried to sense his own arms. But here in this dark world, he could feel no connection to his body. Yet, the sensory inputs from his body seemed to be reaching his mind.

What was the Witchweed doing?

He found the answer soon enough. The two invisible hands gripping his face suddenly began to exert force, trying to rip his mouth.

Horrified, Mir recalled the facial changes of his Hybrid form. Four sets of jaws elongating his maxilla and mandible bones, black barbs in the place of teeth, a short, inhuman tongue that looked like a coiled spring...

No! He tried to shout. Just like how he had opposed each mutation from manifesting inside his body.

But it didn't work. He could feel the grips around his lips getting more and more powerful as his mouth began to tear open.

Why the hell was the diary not working?

A rush of panic overwhelmed Mir like a tsunami tide. This wasn't supposed to happen! How was the plant doing this?!

Confusion, denial, horror, and hopelessness began to sprout with each wave of pain around his mouth. Almost half of his face had been torn open by now.

Suddenly, a family electric shock ran through his body, doubling, even tripling every bit of pain encompassing his perception.

Mir felt like someone had hit his head with a crowbar. A ringing sensation overtook his auditory senses. He smelled metal, tasted salt, and saw a faceless man standing over him, pointing several alien objects at his face.

"Oh? That works too? I thought I'd have to deal with another Ripjaw Abomination," the man behind the silver helmet muttered, sounding surprised.