Chapter 6—The Feast Within

The manticore’s fungal mane bristled as it sensed the wrongness before it. My wolf’s lips peeled back in a grin that wasn’t its own, exposing blood-slick teeth. I flexed its claws experimentally, delighting in the grotesque marionette strings of muscle bending to my will.

Each bite wasn’t just food—it was a floodgate opening.

[Biomass +3]

[Biomass +2]

[Biomass +4]

Energy roared through me, filling every nerve with liquid fire. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and terrifyingly addicting. My parasite body swelled with the torrent of stolen life, expanding against the confines of dead flesh.

The wolf should have been still. Silent. But it wasn’t.

It twitched, spasmed, and then—moved.

Ribs snapped back into a jagged place. Torn muscles writhed, knitting themselves together with cords of glistening meat. A grotesque symphony of sinews and bones answered my will, reshaping, obeying.

And all the while, the hunger burned in my belly, insistent, demanding, goading me onward. Devour. Transform. Become more.

[Unique Evolution Path Chosen: Flesh Thrall]

The host has died. You have consumed it but bound its corpse to your Hive. This body may now serve as your Thrall, a puppet of meat and nerve bound to your will.

The wolf’s eyes snapped open—no longer glowing amber but glassy, hollow, and shot through with veins of black. Its jaw dripped blood as it rose to its feet, not in defiance, not in pain, but in servitude.

My control wasn't subtle. Every move was jerky and uncoordinated. The dead limbs didn't answer the way I wanted them to and didn't feel the way I expected. They resisted a rebellion of cold meat against my burning will.

The manticore's confusion evaporated, replaced by primal fury.

I flexed its claws. The muscles answered. I turned its head. The world shifted in a predator’s gaze that now belonged entirely to me.

I was not hiding anymore. I was finally piloting, though not the way I wanted to. The system had made sure of that.

The spore-manticore froze, fungi across its mane trembling as if sensing the mockery of life before it.

My wolf bared its teeth in a grin I made it wear.

“I am not prey,” I whispered through its blood-clogged throat. The voice was wrong, cracked, and ragged, but it was mine.

I wasn't sure if the words were even real. The dead tongue in its jaws didn't shape sounds.

The hunger had only just begun.

[Skill Unlocked: Flesh Assimilation Lv. 1]

Consume hosts to gain biomass. Biomass may be spent on repairs for Thralls, mutations for Thralls, or the creation of units.

[Skill Progression—Puppet Strings Lv. 2 → 4]

•Lvl. 3: You may now use nerve impulses to influence and eventually dominate a host’s actions.

•Lvl. 4: Upon full subversion of the central nervous system, a new Host Interface is available.

For the first time since waking in the Warm Dark, I laughed.

[Quest Failure: Don’t get scratched or crushed out of the Warm Dark.]

As a consequence, you're being forcibly relocated. Survival is not guaranteed.

As a consequence, you're being forcibly relocated. Survival is not guaranteed.

—I… what?

A sudden, violent lurch wrenched me out of my reverie. The direwolf and the fungal abomination engaged in a deadly struggle in one moment. In the next, they were gone, the entire forest scene vanishing like a dream upon waking. The comfortable, pulsing warmth of the direwolf's internal environment disappeared.

The system was moving me.

Something inside me was being dragged through bone and sinew, sucked out like marrow from a split bone.

I screamed, but no sound came. The direwolf shell collapsed in a heap, useless once more.

The world spun. Blackness swallowed me, hotter, wetter, and tighter than the first womb of meat I had known. My core self squirmed blindly as new flesh knitted around me, cocooning, suffocating.

And then—

[Location Change: Penalty Dungeon]

As a loser, your starting location has changed from ‘meat’ to a penalty dungeon, the Den of Wraiths and Ghosts. Of course, they do not possess flesh, so you can’t consume them. Have a pleasant stay!

—I hate the system.

[Quest Received!]

Survive the Den of Wraiths and Ghosts (Wave 1).