The darkness isn't empty.
Instead of the void I expect from dying, I find myself suspended in a space that feels both infinite and claustrophobic.
The System Space.
I recognize it immediately, though I've never been fully conscious inside it before. Every previous evolution happened while I slept or was unconscious, passive transformations while my mind drifted.
Floating in this endless dark, glowing options materialize before me like stars being born. All the evolutionary paths I've previously encountered are there.
[You have 1 Evolutionary Point to distribute.]
[Please choose from the Traits below.]
- [Razor Claws] – Your nails grow and harden, becoming as strong as iron, capable of slashing through flesh with ease.
- [Venomous Bite] – You can choose one of these fast-acting toxins for your bite: Pain, Paralysis, or Hallucinogen.
- [Deep Lungs] – Your body has adapted to prolonged submersion, allowing you to stay underwater for far longer.
But I can also see that new ones were added:
- [Conditions are met.] [Reinforced Musculature] — Your muscles develop denser fibers, granting significantly increased physical power.
- [Conditions are met.] [Hardened Scales] — Your natural armor thickens dramatically, providing superior protection against physical attacks.
- [Conditions are met.] [Tremorsense] — When maintaining contact with a solid surface, you can focus your senses to interpret vibrations and detect the weight, location, and movement of nearby ground-based movement.
Each one pulses with potential, offering clear advantages.
The first one is [Reinforced Musculature], a very simple but purposeful aggressive evolution, probably developed by all the hard work lifting stones. Having this evolution could finally give me the strength I need to damage the guardians, but leaves me completely exposed at the same time.
On the other hand, [Hardened Scales] clearly is the same evolution Gorvash has. An incredible defensive trait that can let me survive even the guardians' blows. Especially paired with my [Fast Regeneration] and [Regrowth]. But like in nature, being a sitting duck isn't always the optimal strategy.
And I can't even begin to consider [Tremorsense], with most of my life being spent stuck in this wretched swamp. Still, it is interesting how I got access to this one in particular. Was it some sort of assimilation from consuming the crawlers?
In the end, none of them feel right.
They're all single-purpose solutions, specialized tools for specific problems.
Choosing a single option forces me onto a rigid trajectory. Maybe powerful, but it lacks adaptability. Especially in this world where danger comes in every form and shape imaginable.
Each evolution carves away possibilities in exchange for certainty and any wrong decision here could be deadly.
I pull back from the options, letting them float in the darkness while I think.
The choice should be obvious. Pick the trait that gives me the best immediate advantage against the guardians. [Hardened Scales] for survival, or [Reinforced Musculature] for offense.
But something nags at me, a feeling that choosing any single option is a mistake I'll regret.
My human mind rebels against the forced choice. In my previous life, research meant exploring multiple hypotheses, testing variables, adapting methodology based on results. Science succeeds through iteration, not commitment to a single theory.
And I'm not just a Lizardman.
I’m also a Human and a scientist.
I'm something this world's evolution system wasn't designed for. An outsider or anomaly.
We humans were never the strongest, fastest, or the most resilient. But we were the smartest, and that in turn made us also the most adaptable.
As if responding to that realization, warmth blooms in my chest. The crystal shard I've been carrying, hidden against my sternum, begins to glow.
Light spills from its facets, not harsh but illuminating. And in that light, a figure takes shape.
Me.
Not as I am now, with scales and claws and a tail, but as I was. Dr. Edgar Sarti, pale and thin and human, wearing the same glasses I'd worn on that fateful day in Indonesia. The same person who died being devoured by a Komodo dragon.
The projection isn't solid. I can see through him to the darkness beyond, like watching a memory projected onto fog. But his eyes are clear, intelligent, fixed on me with recognition.
"Hello," I say, my voice strange in this space.
The scientist-me doesn't speak, but his gestures follow mine, much like that creature in the puddle did in what feels like years ago. This isn't a ghost or spirit, just an imprint. A preserved memory of who I was, carried forward by the magic in this world.
I watch, as he reaches out, and I reach out as well. His transparent hand passes through my chest, touching the place where the core stone pulses with faint warmth at the same time I touch his heart.
Knowledge floods through me. Not spoken or written, but understood on some fundamental level.
My scientist-self smiles. It's a sad expression, tinged with regret but also pride. He knows what I've become. What I've had to become to survive.
Then he does something unexpected. He steps forward, merging with me.
Not violently, but like two streams of water meeting. His transparency overlays my scaled form, and for a moment, I experience both perspectives simultaneously.
I feel my human hands, soft and weak, manipulating test tubes and microscopes. I feel my Lizardman claws, strong and sharp, tearing through flesh. I taste coffee in a university lab. I taste raw meat after a desperate battle.
I remember dying from a Komodo dragon's bite. I remember being reborn from an egg.
Two different lives and identities. Two ways of understanding the world.
And then they aren't separate anymore.
____________________________________________________________________________
In that moment of synthesis, all my studies and observations come back to me.
Evolution was never about just growth. It was always about adaptation. The ability to change based on circumstance rather than committing to a single path.
Nature never creates perfect organisms. It creates organisms that can survive different conditions. Even the same species can develop different traits in different environments and this has been observed thousands of times.
The most adaptable is the one who survives and passes its genes forward.
This world might have its own rules, but this maxim does not appear to be any different.
That's what I need. Not permanent commitment to a single strategy, but the ability to shift as circumstances demand.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I reach toward the floating trait options, but instead of selecting one, I push them together. All of them. The [Razor Claws] and [Venomous Bite] and [Reinforced Musculature] and everything else.
The System Space resists. This isn't how it's supposed to work. You choose one trait, not all of them at the same time like someone pressing all the floor buttons on an elevator.
But if this system can affect my biology, perhaps I can affect it as well.
The crystal shard pulses again, and my core stone responds. The synthesis of human knowledge and Lizardman biology creates something the system can recognise.
A new pathway crystallizes before me, unlike anything I've seen before.
[New Trait Created: Adaptive Mimicry] — Your body can rewrite its biology, temporarily acquiring one of your known evolutions. Duration is limited by stamina and trait complexity.
Warning: Physical stress from transformation greatly taxes the body and can cause severe backlashes. Excessive use may even result in biological instability.
I incredulously stare at the description, my analytical mind already processing implications.
It's not unlimited power with the limitations clear and significant.
First of all, I can only access one trait at a time, not multiple simultaneously. What a shame, there are many evolution combos that I would love to try.
Also, each transformation is temporary, dependent on my stamina and trait complexity. What that means exactly, I don't know yet. Maybe related to the organs involved.
Plus the warning about it taxing the body and biological instability. Shifting my body's fundamental template repeatedly could cause catastrophic failure. There are always bad results when your cells don't know what they're supposed to be anymore.
But having this trait is also precisely what I need right now.
Not a single focus in one area, but the ability to be versatile and to shift strategies during combat or dangerous situations or environments.
I finally accept the trait.
Power floods through me, not gentle or gradual but explosive. The sensation is like being unmade and remade simultaneously. My core stone flares with intensity I've never felt before, burning white-hot in my chest.
The crystal shard also dissolves, its stored energy completely used to aid in my transformation.
My consciousness expands, and suddenly I can feel the evolutionary pool. Not as floating options in a void anymore, but as potential states my body can access. Like muscle memory for transformations I've never performed.
I can sense [Reinforced Musculature] in the way my muscle fibers would need to grow and restructure. [Razor Claws], with the mineral deposits that would harden and elongate my nails. [Hardened Scales], with the protein lattices that would thicken my natural scales.
All of it available and mine to command.
The System Space begins to gradually fade, reality bleeding back through as consciousness returns.
____________________________________________________________________________
The first breath back in reality is a mixture of agony with a sense of energy.
My body appears to have healed even faster during evolution, but it still hurts all over.
The important thing is that I'm still breathing. I'm still alive.
My eyes snap open to chaos.
The guardian stands imponent raising its blade for a final blow. Stone dust rains down from somewhere, coating everything in a fine powder.
Gorvash is maybe ten feet away, using his body to shield me, even with both arms hanging uselessly and his copper scales cracked and bleeding. He's just trying to buy me seconds, as if we weren't going to die together anyway.
Stubborn bastard, nobody asked him to do something so heroic for me.
The guardian's sword reaches its highest point..
I reach inward, touching that new pool of potential. The evolutionary traits pulse like stars in my mind, each one readily available.
What do I need right now?
Not venom, claws or enhanced senses, nor even more defense.
I need raw, brutal strength. The kind that can crack stone and topple mountains. The kind that can make these blasted guardians wish to go back to being statues again.
I select [Reinforced Musculature] from the pool.
The transformation is instant and violent.
My muscles swell, fibers multiplying and densifying at impossible speed. The sensation is like being inflated from the inside, pressure building until something has to give. My scales stretch and tear along my arms and chest, unable to accommodate the sudden expansion.
Blood wells from the tears, running down my limbs. The pain is extraordinary, sharp and immediate.
But beneath the pain, I feel power.
My right arm now feels like it could punch through a wall. Every muscle from my shoulders to my fingertips is corded with unnatural density, visible even through my torn scales.
The guardian's sword starts its descent.
I plant my feet and pull on the chain.
The ethereal link between Gorvash and me goes taut, then pulls him towards me with enough force to lift his considerable weight off the ground. He tumbles across the sand, dragged by my enhanced strength, his eyes wide with shock.
The massive blade crashes into the arena floor where he'd been standing, sending up a plume of white sand and stone fragments.
I'm already moving.
The torn guardian, the one with twin blades that we'd managed to topple earlier, lies maybe twenty feet away. Its weapons have fallen from its lifeless stone hands, scattered across the sand.
I sprint toward them, my transformed muscles propelling me faster than I've ever moved. Each step feels like I could launch myself into flight if I just pushed a little harder, even while dragging Gorvash with me.
I skid to a stop beside the closest blade, wrapping my claws around the hilt.
The weapon should be impossibly heavy. Stone carved to look like metal, probably weighing more than I do. In my previous Minor Lizardman form, I wouldn't have been able to lift it off the ground.
Now?
I heft it with both hands like a Great Sword, testing the balance. The blade isn't perfectly crafted, more of a functional club in sword shape, but it's solid and heavy enough for what I need.
The guardian that nearly killed me is already turning, those glowing amber eyes fixing on my new position. Its movements are that same grinding inevitability, telegraphing every action but possessing the strength to make those actions unstoppable.
Usually.
I look back at Gorvash, who's struggling to his feet with his broken arms. His expression is priceless, a mixture of shock, confusion, and dawning hope.
"Let's break them," I say, my voice coming out deeper, rougher than before. The evolution or maybe even the muscle transformation has even affected my vocal cords.
Then I charge the guardian head-on.
The stone construct raises its massive sword in a two-handed grip, preparing for the clash. It's used to opponents dodging, weaving, trying to avoid direct confrontation.
Not this time. I dash towards him, using all the momentum to launch an attack.
My strike targets its forward leg, right at the knee joint where different stone pieces must articulate. The blade connects with pinpoint accuracy, and a crack is audible to everyone in the arena.
The guardian's leg buckles. The impact is so great that stone fragments shower downward as the joint gives way entirely, together with my blade.
The massive construct topples backward already unbalanced by his posture.
I'm on it immediately, using the unbroken parts of the blade to pummel it down.
The guardian tries to raise a hand in defense, but it's too slow. My blade crashes down on its head with pile-driver force.
Once. Twice. Three times.
On the fourth strike the weapon completely shatters. The crude stone sword, never designed for this kind of punishment, explodes into fragments that scatter across the white sand.
But the damage is done. The guardian's head has cracked like an egg, those amber eyes flickering and dying. Its massive body goes still, no longer animated by whatever ancient magic gave it false life.
I stand over the fallen construct, breathing hard, my torn scales weeping blood. The arena feels different somehow, the pressure in my chest lessening slightly.
Four guardians remain.
Across the sand, I see the others still fighting. Kor'ik and the Bog Goblin are being herded into a corner by one guardian, their panicked movements growing increasingly desperate. The Stalker has somehow gotten his chain wrapped around another guardian's leg while Silent Frogman uses his weight to strike at exposed joints.
Hynnal and his chained warrior have managed to bring down another guardian through coordinated strikes, though both Gnolls are looking injured.
The ghostly audience's cheering has changed quality, no longer just bloodthirsty anticipation but something approaching excitement. They're probably witnessing something they haven't seen in however long this trial has been running.
Prey that fights back effectively.
Gorvash reaches my side, his broken arms hanging uselessly but his eyes burning with renewed determination. "Brother," he growls, "You are Lizardman now."
"Yes" I say simply, already feeling the strain of maintaining the transformation. My muscles are burning, not from exertion but from the sheer metabolic cost of maintaining this much mass and density. "But we need to end this fast."
He nods with his predatory smile. "Then let's break them."
Together, connected by that ethereal chain, we turn toward the nearest guardian.
Time to finish this trial.
[Adaptive Mimicry] and its implications. Did anyone imagine he would go down this path, or did you have other theories on what he would pick?