Ray's consciousness returned with a soft flicker, like the dimming embers of a dying flame, hesitant to ignite fully.
Just a few moments ago, he felt like he had awoken from a deep slumber—one that hovered just out of reach before dissipating into the dense fog that shrouded his mind. Parts of his consciousness felt like it meant something, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall its details.
Where am I? Ray's thoughts sluggishly stirred. His mind was half awake, distant, and half-formed, but there was no denying the gnawing sense of unease that resonated within him.
Wherever he was, he was incapable of moving. His body was constricted, trapped in a strange, foreign material that clung to him like a second skin. Whatever bound him was hard, yet oddly fragile—like it could shatter if he tried to move with force. It felt alien. Unnatural. But so unmistakably real.
And then there was the darkness.
It pressed in on him from all sides, with an oppressive and suffocating air that wrapped around his body like a heavy blanket. Yet as oppressive and suffocating as it was, it didn't give off that feeling of comfort and peace that his soul associated it with. Strangely, he wondered why, although different, he felt a sense of familiarity from it.
Ray frowned at the thought.
Since when did I ever begin to associate the thought of darkness with the feeling of comfort and peace?
The thought slid through his mind like a whisper before he quickly dismissed it. He did not know. But did it even matter?
No.
What mattered was the present and the current reality that it presented.
* * *
The world outside his prison remained unknown to Ray. From it, faint slivers of light occasionally shone through. The sliver itself, though, was too weak to pierce through the darkness that shrouded him. Thus leaving him incapable of viewing his body.
And yet, even with how unnatural everything felt, there were sounds present.
Distant, muffled sounds seeped through the barrier that held him. From his standpoint, Ray could make out the soft whisper of wind paired with the sounds of rustling leaves, which reminded him of the outdoors (nature).
With each passing second, the muffled sounds of nature only made the claustrophobic pressure worse, as he could hear the sounds of the world beyond him. A world that seemed beyond his reach.
Hold on a minute. Am I outside?
Ray's thoughts sharpened slightly upon the sudden realization. Such a realization, however, only led to more questions. If he was outside, then where exactly was he? Was he kidnapped somewhere and placed inside a container of some kind?
Confusion slowly turned into a mild sense of unease. Which then in turn transformed into panic. The fear clawed at his chest, its icy fingers tightening around his heart, threatening to overwhelm him and take control.
Frankly, it was terrifying.
It left him with more questions than answers, but even then he fought to suppress it. He knew that succumbing to it would only hinder his ability to think with clarity.
Breathe. I need to stay calm.
Closing his eyes, Ray forced himself to take slow, measured breaths.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Good.
Each breath did little to ease his fear completely; other than waste the small amounts of precious air in his confinement, it did however push the remnants of that fear to the back of his mind where it couldn't overwhelm him. In doing so, it brought him some form of clarity.
Deep down, he was thankful; it was thanks to this technique (technique #1.25) that he was able to survive in stress-induced situations, which in turn helped him to keep his head when everything was falling apart.
* * *
With some semblance of clarity regained, Ray wriggled and shifted about within the confines of his oval-like prison, trying his best to gauge his position and the nature of the material that held him. Each movement was a calculated exploration—a careful approach to understand his surroundings a little clearer than before.
Then came the realization.
No… No way… This can't be right…
His heart skipped a beat as a horrible realization dawned on him. His surroundings, the shape, the texture—it all added up to something that his mind instinctually knew but chose to reject.
Am I in an eggshell?
Such a revelation had to be absurd. Impossible even. The simple notion of being trapped in an egg seemed ridiculous. And yet, the more he moved, the more undeniable the sensation became. Whatever this material was, he knew that he had to break it if he were to escape. If not, he felt that something terrible would happen.
So with no time to waste, Ray pushed against the shell-like substance, feeling the resistance give in slightly.
The resistance, however, soon came with a cost: a decrease in the already limited air supply. With each moment that Ray spent in that egg, be it thinking or pushing against the eggshell, he repeatedly took in small amounts of air, which slowly grew thinner over time.
Ray's heart pounded in his chest as the realization hit him like a truck: he was running out of air.
No, no, no—this can't be happening!
The already-sealed panic quickly swelled inside him as he shifted about in the eggshell even harder than before. His movements grew more frantic and wild as the seconds passed. His head soon began to feel light, his thoughts clouded by desperation.
Ray pushed harder against the now fragile wall with everything he had, and soon he was rewarded by a soft crack that followed.
Crack.
Ray's eyes widened as he realized that the shell was beginning to give way. It wasn't much, but it was enough to ignite a flicker of hope inside him.
With renewed hope, he put more power into shifting his weight against the shell. This was the final push that he felt that he needed to break free.
CRACK!
And it worked. He soon heard a loud cracking noise as the shell broke.
As he broke free from the broken shell, he lay there, sprawled on something soft and cool. Grass. His chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath sweeter and more lasting than the last. It was as if the fresh air was the most precious thing in the world.
I'm… alive.
Ray nearly wept with relief as his body trembled from the exertion, but that relief was soon short-lived. Just as he steadied his breathing, his mind slowly began to take in the information about the situation that his eyes presented.
What he saw left him halted his breath. His body, which he was accustomed to during the years of his previous life, felt wrong—different, to be exact.
Glancing down at himself, the features of his new form took shape, revealing quite a shocking discovery.
What the hell?
Ray's vision blurred slightly as his gaze focused on his body—his newly reborn form.
His skin, or what should have been his skin, was now covered by a thick set of keeled scales, which in turn gave his appearance a more rough and armored look.
His hands—no feet to be exact—were stocky, clawed, and covered in scales. The strangest part about his limbs, however, was the fact that he had six rather than the traditional two that you would expect of a human.
No, this can't be… this can't be real.
Ray slowly turned his head. His eyes fell on a short, thin appendage that was behind him. This appendage was covered in the same grayish-green scales that made up the rest of his body.
Staring at it more intensely now, he noticed that it swayed slightly. Its movement felt instinctive and different compared to anything else that he had felt before.
The sight of his tail sent another shock through him as the final piece of the puzzle finally fell into place.
Am I a lizard?
Disbelief clouded his thoughts. It has to be a dream. Yes, this must be a dream. Otherwise, how could any of this make sense? How could he—an attractive, good-looking male—turn into something so… monstrous? He was a human after all; humans couldn't become monsters.
But no matter how hard Ray tried to deny it, it only took a slight glance at his newly scaled body for the reality of the situation to settle in.
Ray slumped to the ground, feeling the weight of his situation pressing on him as he felt a sense of defeat.
Calm down, Ray, he told himself as he closed his eyes and took in a slow, steady breath. Panicking wasn't going to help. First, he needed to assess the situation before moving forward.
Slowly, Ray lifted his head, his gaze shifting from his body to the expanse ahead as he took in its vast scenery. What he saw left him speechless.
From what he could tell, he was inside a cavern, but calling it a mere cavern didn't give it justice. No, this place was a world unto itself—a massive ecosystem that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see.
Enormous trees, towering like skyscrapers, loomed ahead, their branches stretching out and twisting in strange otherworldly patterns. The soft ground beneath him was a rich tapestry of fallen leaves, roots, and stone with vibrant plant life that was littered about in tandem.
This… this isn't earth.
The thought came unbidden. What he saw here flipped his earth logic on its head. The thought of trees and plant life thriving underground with no sunlight just seemed impossible.
Hold on a moment, sunlight—
Ray glanced up, his focus mainly on the ceiling.
His eyes widened as he saw what looked like an ambient blue glow being emitted from the ceiling. The blue glow washed over the forest expanse, painting it in hues as it ran through the ceiling rock-like veins of a human body. Some of its veins were thicker and some thinner as they spread out in random directions.
Where the hell am I?
The question lingered in the air, unanswered as his eyes took in the full scale of his surroundings.
In here, he was alone, trapped in the body of a monster he didn't recognize, in a world that seemed to defy everything he knew.
And yet, for all the fear and confusion, there was something else stirring within him.
A desire to live. Regardless of his current form.
Whatever this place was, whatever he had become, he would figure it out. He had to.
Because there was no going back.