Limitless Evolution As a Snake

[Current status effects] -

- 1 week of insta pussy wet for Lyra when getting wet in effect

- Can turn red on demand.

- Thermal Camouflage for the remainder of this evolution; will lose it after changing evolutions.

- Permanent thermal vision as a snake.

- 5 more days remaining of coffee high.

Scanning through the options I’ve already got locked in. Some of them are pulling their weight, some of them haven’t done a single useful thing since I unlocked them. Decisions, decisions.

Handsy has to go. That one was funny the first time, but it’s dead weight now, and dead weight gets you killed in a death pit. Good joke though, I’ll give it that.

I flick through the list until I land on the one I keep skipping past because it’s, well, a lot.

The rank D Ouroboros Thrall-Bite. Sink my fangs in, pump in some cursed vampire juice, and boom, instant loyal half-snake minion. Five minutes later, that minion starts eating itself like a pretzel, horrifying and completely illegal probably. But I’ve got ten fights lined up back to back, and I need something with a fast reset, not a party trick.

[System: Oi. Didn’t peg you for the self-eating pretzel option, mate.]

Yeah, well, desperate times. If I’ve got ten things trying to kill me one after another, I need options that come back quick. Three-minute cooldown means I can use it, wait it out, use it again, and just keep chewing through the lineup. Doesn’t matter how gross it looks if I’m the one still breathing at the end of it.

[System: Fair point, didn’t expect you to go straight for that option though, most blokes ease into the war crimes, proud of ya though.]

I’m not most blokes; I’m a snake in a locked room about to fight ten things one at a time that want to eat me, so I’ll take effective over polite every single time.

[System: Solid choice, mate. Confirming replacement.]

[Handsy (Rank F)] removed.

[Ouroboros Thrall-Bite (Rank D)] added.

Cost: 20 IP deducted.

Cooldown: 3 minutes.

Somewhere behind the locked gate, something big scrapes its claws against metal, and I start humming, low and tuneless, because I already know exactly how the next ten minutes are going to go.

The holding cell smells like rust and old sweat, and I take a slow lap around the edges just to see what I’m working with. Concrete floor, chain-link door, and absolutely nothing sharp lying around because apparently they don’t want the fighters improvising weapons before the fight even starts. Rude, honestly.

Well, if I can’t find one, might as well make one.

System, quick question. Can I convert some of my IP into something with an edge, like a knife or even a gun if we’re really pushing it?

[System: Oh oh oh, smart! Yeah you can, my dear rice noodle. I can rig a knife right onto your tail, well, where your tail used to be before you turned it into a stump. You’d basically be Captain Hook but scalier. Fair warning though, it’ll eat every bit of IP you’ve got left.]

Do it. Send it through, I don’t care about the cost, I need it.

[System: Righto, that’ll be 25 IP, cheers mate.]

There’s a weird tug at the base of my tail, like something is stitching itself into me from the inside out, and then it’s just there. A combat knife, jagged edge and everything, bolted right onto the stump where my tail should be. I give it an experimental flick and the tip catches my own scales, drawing a thin bead of blood before I even mean to test it. Great, well at least it works, I guess.

Any words of wisdom before I go get stomped?

[System: Don’t suck. I bet so much on you.]

What the hell kind of pep talk is that?

No time to argue because the bell rings, loud and final, and somewhere above the pit an announcer’s voice crackles through a speaker that’s seen better decades. "Introducing, for the first time ever, the Glass Phantom Snake!" The crowd gives me a whopping three claps and one distant whistle, which honestly might just be someone’s phone ringing.

I start humming without really meaning to, low and off-key, the kind of hum that usually means I’m two seconds from doing something stupid.

The gate grinds open, and I slither out into the pit, and there it is. Golf-cart-sized, purple crystals jutting out of its back like it lost a fight with a geode, and for one full second my brain just stops working because I recognise this thing. I’ve seen this type of capybara before, deeper down, back when I was smaller and dumber and had no knife strapped to my ass.

The shock only lasts a second before I shake it off and puff myself up as much as a snake can puff, doing my best impression of something mean and tall despite being neither.

The capybara doesn’t wait for introductions. Its eyes flare toxic green, and it charges like someone hit the gas on a bulldozer made of crystal and bad decisions. I dart sideways and duck under a low steam pipe, using every inch of my stupid tiny size to slip past the first pass, then whip around fast and slash my knife-tail across its back ankle.

The blade skids off with a spark and does absolutely nothing.

Cool. Cool cool cool. So the crystals are basically free armour, noted, filing that away for later or possibly never because I might be dead in the next ten seconds.

The capybara spins around way faster than something that size has any right to, and its whole back leg comes down where I was standing half a breath ago. Point-blank range, its ugly glowing face right above me, and I don’t even think; I just slam the button in my head for [Squeaky-Toy Impact].

The sound that comes out of me is criminal. A rubber dog toy squeak cranked up past anything a dog toy should ever produce, tearing through the air at a buzz that rattles the chain-link fence behind me. The capybara’s ears, which I now realise are huge and stupidly sensitive, flatten back and it staggers sideways, shaking its head like it’s trying to get water out.

I hear a noise come out of it.