He left his hiding place slowly, inch by inch, testing the air and the floor before committing his weight. The lab was quiet, but not empty. Silence here never meant safety—it only meant that danger had not announced itself yet.

  He pressed himself into the shadow beneath a worktable and watched.

  The researchers moved with routine efficiency. The lab was quiet, but not empty. He pressed himself into the shadow beneath a worktable and watched.

  Maria and Dave moved with routine efficiency. Their voices were calm, their hands steady. They believed the lab was secure again.

  "What's the reaction to the poison?" Dave asked, leaning over a console.

  "They produced a detoxification cloud," Maria replied. "No visible damage." "And batch one?"

  "They avoid it. No preference."

  "Prepare the silth babies," Dave said.

  "We'll begin mixing." A brief pause followed.

  "Starting in three… two… one."

  Mechanical arms descended, stirring chemicals inside reinforced glass containers. Vapors curled upward and were pulled into the vents above. He tracked the rhythm of the machines, the timing of each motion, the way Dave shifted his weight when the work became monotonous.

  He could attack now.

  The distance was manageable. But the room remained active. Two targets, too many variables. He waited. The mixing process concluded. Maria stretched and shut down her terminal.

  "That's enough for today."

  "Yeah," Dave agreed.

  "We'll check the results tomorrow."

  They removed their gloves and prepared to leave. As they walked toward the exit, their conversation drifted.

  "How was your date, by the way?" maria asked.

  "Good. We went out near the lower decks. Nothing special." Their voices faded as the door closed behind them.

  Their voices faded as the door closed behind them.

  He did not follow.

  Leaving the facility with a host was tempting, but inefficient. Outside environments were uncontrolled. The system’s reach was strongest here, within familiar infrastructure. Inside the lab, he knew every route, every shadow, every place where he could disappear.

  He turned away from the exit and slipped into the ventilation shaft.

  No cleaning sequence activated. The tunnel remained dark and still.

  Metal walls pressed close around his body as he crawled forward. He remembered this place—the panic, the fear, the wall of light that had once chased him back toward death. That fear did not return. The vent was only another path now.

  He passed a disabled fan and reached a junction where the shaft widened, branching into multiple routes. He chose one at random and emerged above the eating hall.

  The room was vast. Long tables stood in ordered rows. Trays, containers, and remnants of meals littered the surfaces. The smell of processed food hung in the air.

  He climbed down and fed.

  The food filled his body, but nothing followed. No warmth. No surge. No system response.

  “No Varloon gained,” he observed.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Correct,” Lumina replied. “Food not obtained through hunting does not generate Varloon. Alternative traits may supplement gain. Essence Leech is one example.”

  He stopped eating.

  This place supported survival, not growth. He left it behind.

  The administrative wing lay beyond the next network of vents—narrower, denser, layered with monitoring systems and control hubs. Voices echoed faintly through the metal as he moved.

  He emerged above a camera room.

  A single man sat inside, hunched over a console. Multiple screens glowed before him, each displaying a different corridor or lab.

  “…nothing here… wait.”

  The parasite anchored himself to the vent wall, adjusting his position.

  “When did these two get in?” the man muttered, rewinding footage and leaning closer to the screen.

  “They stayed for three hours,” he said quietly. “That’s not normal.”

  The distance between them was minimal. If he dropped now, he could attach himself before the man had time to react.

  He calculated. Taking a guard would not bring any benefit, only unknown and tighten security protocols. The risk outweighed the gain. He rejected the option. Maria, with her access and familiarity, presented a better opportunity. Through her, he could move undetected and gain the Varloon he needed.

  “I’ll tell Maria tomorrow,” the man said, already standing.

  Maria.

  The name registered. She worked in the lab. She moved between rooms without escort. She was familiar.

  The man shut down the console and left in a hurry.

  The parasite retreated. He didn't need a guard; he needed Maria. The next morning, she was back at her station, her movements a rhythmic dance of data logs and readouts. She had been here long enough to work without drawing attention.

  Recent mistakes had delayed her promotion. The frustration lingered, but it did not slow her hands.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

  She glanced around before answering. “Hello?”

  Gabriel’s voice came through, low and hurried. "I checked the footage. Last night. The night shift was in your lab for three hours." Her jaw tightened. "Who?" "Gomez." She exhaled sharply. "Of course." "I figured you should know." "I do. Thanks."

  She ended the call and returned the phone to her pocket.

  she felt a sharp sting at the base of her neck. She swiped at the spot, but her fingers found nothing. A pinched nerve, she thought, or perhaps just the dry air of the lab

  "Everything okay?" Dave asked, noticing her sudden movement.

  As she turned back to "Yeah, just a bit of a headache. I'll be fine," Maria replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Maria?”

  She turned. “Coming.”

  She took one step.

  He anchored himself beneath her collar. As he anchored himself beneath her collar, a wave of anticipation mixed with a twinge of guilt washed over him. But survival outweighed morality. This was necessary. He was still too weak to seize the central nervous system in one strike, so he began at the edges. From the sides of his mouth, the tentacle-appendages uncoiled—thin, hungry tubes that punctured her skin with a dull throb she mistook for a pulse.

  The tentacles spread like a root system, crawling beneath the dermis to find the peripheral nerves. They began to feed, methodically eating away the nervous system from the limbs inward. As each nerve was consumed, the parasite’s own fibers grew in their place, mimicking the host's natural signals to prevent a collapse.

  He left the brain untouched. His kind were not equipped to do so; they had no use for the grey matter or the memories stored within. To consume the mind was to destroy the vessel's utility. Instead, he simply replaced the bridge between thought and action, weaving his own fibers around the brain stem to intercept every command before it reached the muscle.

  Maria felt a strange lightness in her arms, a lack of resistance in her stride, but the signals reaching her mind told her everything was normal. The parasite's mimicry was flawless. The lab did not react. She took another step, her body now a patchwork of human flesh and parasitic wiring.

  A window pops up

  He felt the rhythm of her heartbeat. The tension of her muscles. The balance of her body as if it were his own.

  The lab partner did not react. No alarms sounded, he noticed the subtle shift in her gait. Control had not yet been taken-but the foundation was complete.The hunter no longer needed to hide in the shadows; he was hiding in plain sight. But as he settled into his new host, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The real challenges still lay ahead.