He became lighter, floating and sinking in the air. The sunlight streaming in from the window turned into vast oceans, soaking the pages and notebooks on the desk into a white, indistinct mass. Anzhe blinked. He didn't feel discomfort, only that every movement became extremely slow and floating. He couldn't control his body as if he had flown up but also seemed about to fall. Then—he gradually lost consciousness, the world before him turning black. He was awakened by the cold—upon opening his eyes, he found the continuous grey buildings outside submerged in the golden-red afterglow of the sunset. It had been at least seven or eight hours since he had fallen asleep—or passed out, revealing that the toxicity of his form induced unconsciousness. Evening was colder than the day, so Anzhe lay back into the bed, wrapping himself in the blanket, regaining warmth. But as the numbness from the cold faded, hunger set in. Anzhe would have preferred to absorb nutrients as a mushroom, but throughout the base, he hadn't encountered even a patch of moist soil. He was forced to eat—humans were quite troublesome, he frowned in thought. Fortunately, Vance's leftover memories directed him to the dining hall. The base was divided into eight districts, with 6, 7, and 8 being the main residential areas. Each building housed a community with a hall on the ground floor for water and food distribution at scheduled times. Children under sixteen had free quotas, while adults over sixteen needed to pay with base currency, denoted by the letter R. There weren't many people in the hall, about fifty. There were only two food counters: one offered a mushy food made from some tuberous plant, and the other a soup… made from the same tuberous plant, which he vaguely remembered was called a potato. Anzhe paid with his card. Potato mush, price 0.5, remaining balance 9.5. Potato soup, price 0.3, remaining balance 9.2. He stared at the number representing his balance, realizing he was on the verge of starvation in a few days. It felt like being a mushroom rooted in parched soil, constantly facing death. —This feeling intensified the moment he spent 0.1R to fetch water from the public room on the fifth floor. Thus, finding an economic source became another task for him. After screwing the cap back on the stainless steel bottle, Anzhe held it, ready to turn, when a voice suddenly burst out behind him. "Anzhe?" The voice was loud, trembling, resonating in the tight space. Anzhe turned around. A young man stood in the corridor, tall and handsome, his eyes wide as they fixed on Anzhe, his lips trembling, it was hard to tell if his expression was one of joy or shock. "Anzhe?" He called out again, "You... have you returned? Weren't you—" He cut off suddenly, his face turning a ghastly shade, as if unsure how to continue. But Anzhe knew what he wanted to say because he knew this person; he was Josie. Josie was Anzhe's neighbor and friend. They grew up together, sometimes Josie took care of Anzhe, and other times, Anzhe took care of him—the sporadic remnants of memories unfolded before Anzhe's eyes. But his acquaintance with Josie was not only through Anzhe's memories. As a mushroom, he had seen this person, and his observations combined with Anzhe's memories completed the real cause of Anzhe's death. Anzhe made a living writing novels, essays, and poems for people's entertainment, submitted to the base which periodically published these works. However, three months prior, the base disbanded this department to save increasingly scarce resources and manpower. At that time— "What book are you reading, Anzhe?" Josie asked. "I'm preparing for the selection exam at the base's supply station," Anzhe replied, marking notes in his book. "I think I'll enjoy the job there, and the pay is good too." Josie frowned at that. "Are you trying to change your civilian status?" He asked. "The exam is tough." "It's okay," Anzhe reassured. "Anzhe," Josie's tone became stern, "you've always known I wanted to venture out into the wilderness with you." Anzhe smiled gently, as if placating the capricious friend but also with a tinge of helpless sighing, "I'm not suited for the outside." "I'll protect you." Josie slung an arm around his shoulder, softening his voice, "I can't be without you. Follow me into the wilderness; we won't go to dangerous places." The fragments of memory were roughly like this. Ultimately, under Josie's persistent coaxing, Anzhe agreed to adventure into the wilderness with him. Josie was a member of a large mercenary group, with many achievements, and he easily introduced Anzhe, who was tasked with distributing and tallying supplies. But anything could happen in the wilderness, and one day, the convoy lost its way, drifting towards The Abyss's edge. By the time they realized the abnormal abundance of mushrooms there, it was too late. The Abyss's monsters wouldn't spare any prey within their grasp. For humans, even the very edge of The Abyss could be terrifyingly deadly. With three of their five armored vehicles destroyed, the people from those vehicles frantically moved to the remaining ones to escape. Amidst the chaos, Anzhe pushed Josie, allowing him to barely evade an attack from a winged creature in the air but tripped on the ground vines. Josie froze for a second, a second where the instinct to survive overrode everything else. Between pulling Anzhe and fleeing, he chose the latter, biting the bullet to run forward, being dragged onto the armor vehicle by the team leader- at that moment Anzhe watched their silhouette being heavily impaled by the monster's bone spike. The mercenary group engaged the monsters in fierce combat as they retreated. Their commotion was too great, attracting attention from the deepest parts of The Abyss where Anzhe happened to be venturing for spores, always returning empty-handed until that incident allowed him to quietly retrieve Anzhe from the chaotic battlefield. So now, faced with Josie, Anzhe had nothing to say. Faced with death, any creature's first response is to flee. Josie did nothing wrong, but Anzhe didn't like him. "You… seem different." Josie swallowed hard, "Are your injuries healed? Did you escape The Abyss?" Anzhe just looked at him calmly. "No, you're not Anzhe." Josie suddenly stepped back, his face pale, "You're a variant." "I'm sorry." Anzhe walked away, brushing past him, "I accidentally ate a poisonous mushroom, I can't remember you."