"Hmm…"

Bored and adrift in the murky waters, Lightning pondered whether its consciousness might soon dissipate.

"Evolution, development."

That was likely just a feeling, though.

"I still need to evolve and develop. If I don't keep going, other organisms will surpass or even eliminate me."

A voice echoed in its mind—its voice, yet somehow not its own.

"What's the rush? Drifting leisurely with no worries about food for a while isn't so bad," it rationalized, answering itself. "Ever since I arrived, it's been about finding food, eliminating enemies, evolving; then finding more food, defeating more enemies, and evolving again."

"It's boring. I'm tired of it." Lazily moving its long mouth, Lightning gulped down a cloud of nutrient-rich water, unconcerned with sanitation. "Only higher organisms with their fragile stomachs worry about food hygiene. Those stomachs seem even worse than mine as a bug. Why are they considered higher organisms?" Lightning felt a twinge of exhaustion.

"I used to want nothing more than to be a carefree couch potato, but now it's all so arduous."

"Loneliness must be part of the experience for every traveler. Totally detached from original society, in an unfamiliar world, with foreign groups and strange organisms. Some, like me, even have unfamiliar bodies."

"But they immediately have fully-formed bodies, while mine had to be assembled from parts. I can't say which is better or worse—they're just different situations."

Lightning's consciousness sighed at the emptiness around it.

"They say other microcells also evolved, but I haven't encountered any yet." (Even though its current body is one.)

"Though it feels like only a short time, maybe about a year, the records state billions of years. How long until this species develops civilization?"

With its soft body drifting aimlessly, Lightning occasionally voiced these contemplative doubts.

"In the editor space, there's just 8051 to talk to, and I need spores to enter."

Such constant murmuring in the consciousness was wearisome. If it were human, Jal would be lazily lying on grass, gazing at the sun with hands behind his head.

"Am I really going to waste away like this?"

The shift from stillness to motion happened in an instant, jolting Lightning into action.

"Geez, why the sudden despair? Life seems infinite now, but who knows if the system will impose a time limit at the multicellular stage?"

"If I don't finish in time, there won't be anywhere to cry."

A string of electric sparks flickered through Lightning's nearly transparent body, focusing its mind slightly.

Wriggling its soft body to concentrate its awareness, Lightning prepared to continue its evolutionary journey.

"Huh, electricity?!"

As it reflected on its earlier despondency, Lightning suddenly sensed a flash of electricity in a direction. (Note: The mental sensing range is currently much narrower than visual range.) Until now, Jal had encountered no other organisms capable of emitting electricity, leading him to believe only his kind could.

Considering electricity = discharge = electrode cells, and only its species possesses these, the tentative conclusion was:

"A companion!"

Concluding it must be an evolved kin, a series of electric sparks erupted across Lightning's body. Deploying its flagella and tentacles with renewed vigor, it swam frantically toward the source, even more frustrated with its slow speed.

…

"Where is it? Uh, I mean, where's the bug? How come there's nothing here?"

Reaching the approximate location revealed nothing but murky water to Lightning's mental perception. The guiding electric light had ceased halfway there.

"Darn, they employ hit-and-run tactics better than I do." Unwilling to accept this, Lightning circled the area but found nothing.

Discharge?

Suddenly recalling this method, Lightning began intermittently releasing electricity, hoping to catch a companion's attention, while the surrounding nutrient supply nourished its needs.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Why hasn't anyone shown up? Could they have already swum away?"

"Well, this is near the volcanic area, so maybe they all fled. Maybe the one earlier was straggling." Discharging all its electricity again, Lightning realized the futility and stopped, turning to consume floating matter to restore nutrients.

Then, an unexpected change in perception occurred.

"What, is there really a companion passing by?"

Still dubious about its previous actions, Lightning maintained skepticism that a companion might have noticed the flashes and approached. In truth, those discharges served more as venting than attracting kin.

Adjusting its posture slowly, Lightning reassessed the detected presence.

"As expected, it's not."

In Lightning's mental sensing, a tentacled, octopus-like organism propelled by six tentacles was approaching at a decent speed. Two large protrusions on its pointed front, resembling eyes, explained how it noticed Lightning.

"Clearly, emotions need regulating—acting out just attracted another creature. Could this be an ancestor of the octopus?" Lightning didn't flee, knowing escape was futile given its current speed. Besides, with its respectable electrical capability, it wasn't without a fighting chance. "I wonder if I can move like an octopus. Maybe I'll try adjusting positions next evolution."

As the distance closed, Lightning amassed energy within, determined to act regardless of the creature's disposition.

Bravery isn't nurtured by fleeing; many understand this, but few can achieve it. Lightning was merely trying. In a perilous world, courage was indispensable. Moreover, time would bring more creatures and increased aggression. Without evolving now, it would soon lack any countermeasures. Electricity was not all-powerful.

The octopoid hesitated after Lightning ceased discharging, puzzled by the fading light. Yet it soon spotted Lightning close by. However, it maintained a non-aggressive posture, proceeding along a slightly different path.

"Seems like a peaceful creature." Without developed sensory organs to detect danger early, competition was low, and aggressiveness among creatures remained subdued.

Lightning was unlucky to face aggressive multicellular beings during evolution.

"Sorry, but you'll be my evolution points. Take this, electric burst!"

Pale blue electricity filled the small area. The creature, passing by, seemed unequipped to handle the shock, freezing instantaneously.

However, just when Lightning thought it had dealt a blow like with the Pincer, the creature quickly recovered, launching its six tentacles at Lightning.

Had Jal been human, he might’ve been startled. Yet, Lightning had to remember its own two tentacles—self-assembled.

Prepped and ready, Lightning awaited the moment to deliver a fatal strike. In movies, octopuses grab and subdue targets before attacking (also movie knowledge), but before attacking, they were often thwarted, suggesting a chance.

However, after opening its tentacles, the creature rapidly retreated, propelled by water currents, disappearing from Lightning's sensing.

"…"

"Wow, that was a quick escape."

Watching it vanish, Lightning couldn't help but admire—and perhaps grudgingly respect—the possible octopus ancestor.

"Speed really matters. Isn’t there a saying about how the fastest techniques are unstoppable?"

"Survival is paramount here."

"Of course, it's the survival of the whole species."

"Increasing speed requires evolution, which needs better components and more evolution points, so…"

"I’ll stick to troubling the multicellular organisms I can handle."

Waving its flagella, Lightning swam toward deeper waters.

※※※

Below a steep continental shelf, in shadowy depths, a tentacle worm lay in wait within a crevice, anticipating prey.

They rarely moved, typically hiding with only a delicate tentacle floating to sense water movement and nearby creatures.

Feeding on suspended matter and mud-sourced nutrients, they seized opportune moments to capture soft-bodied multicellular creatures, swiftly ensnaring them with strong tentacles and injecting a paralyzing toxin. The prey was then leisurely devoured, energy stored for future hunts.

This tentacle worm idly consumed nutrients from the silt when its tentacle was lightly tapped. Through brief contact, it identified a soft-bodied creature. Instinctively, its needle-like tentacle shot towards the sensed prey.

But luck was absent today. As the tentacle emerged, it was immediately struck by numbness. The distressed worm attempted retracting its tentacle, but paralysis quickly spread, denying any emergency severance. Caught in relentless electric jolts, the tentacle worm met its abrupt demise.

[Gained 10 Evolution Points]

"This ambushing creature ranks as 'Leader'? It's beyond me," Lightning mused after easily dispatching two creatures—aside from 4 evolution points—that offered no new components, and five tentacle worms. Lightning realized being at the leader level wasn’t so bad after all. (Tentacle worm protests: Let my needle pierce you and see!)

Only the first worm brought a component notification; subsequent ones offered none. Known elements absent in its makeup—tentacles, non-electric touch, possibly internal systems—affirmed the rule: one component per species, selectable back in the bio editor.

Skillfully, Lightning segmented the prey with its long mouth. It still took time, but low biological density allowed ample feeding time.

Defeating prey became routine for Lightning. Vision was inadequate for clarity, so upon detecting a tentacle through mental sense, Lightning coaxed out the aggressor's tentacle with electric touch, delivering a stunning shock. This wouldn't destroy the creature, only paralyze it momentarily—enough to grab exposed limbs and subject them to sequential electric shocks through electrode cells.

Directly shocking the sensing tentacle had proved ineffective, simply severing it without budging the hidden worm. Approaching the sandy lair risked a slow response. Current conditions limited both reflexes and body agility, making close encounters risky.

Thus, vanquishing five worms without suffering a needle stab was fortunate. Conversely, an unreachable target rendered any formidable attack useless. Fast electric responses enabled Lightning’s success.

After encountering the octopoid, Lightning intended to return to the seabed for potential targets. However, swept far by volcanic shockwaves, it found itself exploring a steep rise—a potential continental shelf or mere mound, judging by its scale-unknown body. Opting to ascend, it engaged cliff-dwelling leader-level tentacle worms and common soft-bodied prey. The former provided good practice and mobile nutrition; numerous minion-level creatures, though less helpful component-wise, contributed to evolution points.

Amid a meal, Lightning sensed an approaching Steel Jaw from its evolutionary trials—the unfortunate victim of an earlier encounter.

"Interrupting a meal is a grave offense, especially when you offer no worthy component. So, be gone!"

Facing the advancing Steel Jaw, Lightning turned confidently, unleashing another powerful electric discharge.